Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 362: Tenfold Perfection (3)

The divine sword bestowed by the Tang siblings.

It felt like an extension of his own body.

The moment Jeong Yeon-shin grasped the sword’s hilt, he realized that he could now wield Ten Thousand Blossoms in the Rain’s (Mancheon Hwawu) Absorption Technique and Emission Principle through a weapon.

The extreme state of unity between mind and sword extended from his palm to the sword itself, allowing him to manifest the Ten Thousand Blossoms in the Rain technique through the blade.

The Silent Divine Sword of the Sword Sect’s Patriarch.

The Thunder-Rousing Sky Sword of the Namgung Clan’s greatest swordsman.

The Dog-Beating Staff of the Beggars’ Sect Leader.

The Flame-Purging Demon Bow of the Shadow Night Lord.

Each of them symbolized absolute authority and martial supremacy in the world of Murim.

Among them, the Divine Entrance Sword of the Society of Sacred Swords’ leader and the Obliteration Sword of Ipwang Fortress’s Lord were rarely drawn, yet they ruled Murim through sheer fear alone.

The sect leaders of the great orthodox factions possessed sacred weapons that rivaled even the greatest artifacts.

Some sacred relics, like the Jade Buddha Palm of the Shaolin Abbot, were used solely as supreme symbols. Others, however, could elevate a martial artist’s skills to their absolute peak, the twelfth level of perfection.

Even the shattered Falling Star Sword became an even deadlier weapon when wielded by the Lord of the Mo Yong Clan.

Yet, at this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin coveted nothing.

The vast, ochre-colored land stretched endlessly, overturned by the previous battle.

Only the wind whispered softly, kicking up dust and tugging at his tattered robes.

He stood there, sword lowered, retracing the events of mere moments ago—consolidating his enlightenment.

So, this is possible.

Just before—

He had deflected the Dragon Manifestation Sky Cannon of the Ghostly Tyrant King while simultaneously conjuring a sword wind imbued with Ten Thousand Blossoms in the Rain.

In the fleeting instant of his opponent’s forty-five transformations, he had infused a halo of sword energy into the drifting dandelion seeds around him, sending them forward as silent messengers of death.

The Ghostly Tyrant King had been using his internal energy to replace the shattered bones and ruptured organs Jeong Yeon-shin had destroyed with Yi Gi Yu Geom.

In his desperate bid to take Jeong Yeon-shin down with him, he had no chance to reinforce his body with defensive energy. A fatal wound was inevitable.

“To wield the great Ten Thousand Blossoms in the Rain with nothing but a sword and a single golden dandelion...”

Peng Yeol-ran’s gaze, losing focus, lingered on Jeong Yeon-shin.

The tattered remnants of her red robe fluttered at her feet. No longer did it resemble a groom’s ceremonial robes of a joyous day.

She tilted her head slightly upward.

“Quite poetic. The Lord of Gold and Dawn will be pleased with you.”

Her voice carried an emotion too complex to name—perhaps a mixture of admiration and resentment.

“So I created Dragon Manifestation Sky Cannon, only for it to be extinguished before it could even be measured against Soaring Thunder Dragon Slash...”

Peng Yeol-ran murmured bitterly.

She had just referenced one of the Three Supreme Techniques of the Greatest Warrior in Sichuan. That alone proved the depth of her obsession.

Jeong Yeon-shin had glimpsed the lifetime of martial mastery contained within the Dragon Manifestation Sky Cannon.

He could have consoled her, offering the kind of meaningless comfort exchanged between righteous martial artists—

I have inherited your technique. The Lord of Gold and Dawn will surely see the echoes of your Dragon Manifestation Sky Cannon one day...

But he didn’t.

He had lived long enough, undergone the rituals of adulthood.

He had seen the world as much as any elder and had long since stopped feeling sympathy for people like Peng Yeol-ran.

“You called the old fiend—who killed Suncheon’s Lord Ha—your master.”

“...The old fiend?”

“Was it true?”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice was calm.

Peng Yeol-ran’s gaze drifted downward from the empty sky.

“How cruel of you. I am about to depart—shouldn’t your attention be on me?”

“Don’t spew nonsense.”

Jeong Yeon-shin cut her off.

The moment he had confronted the Ghostly Tyrant King, he had forcefully activated his upper dantian to its peak. He had sharpened his senses, ensuring he could discern truth from falsehood in his opponent’s words.

When the Ghostly Tyrant King had declared that he had killed Suncheon’s Lord Ha Do-un, there had been no deception in his voice.

Even so, Jeong Yeon-shin had to confirm.

—I seek only to teach my junior proper manners. But if another Grandmaster wishes to intervene, do speak up now.

Ha Do-un had been displeased with young Ma Gwang-ik.

Yet, despite his disapproval, he had fully acknowledged Jeong Yeon-shin’s achievements, martial arts, and potential.

People die so easily.

Even those close to him.

Jeong Yeon-shin suppressed the rising fury within him.

The same emptiness that had swallowed him when the Jeong Household was annihilated threatened to resurface.

If Ha Do-un was truly dead, then his remains must be recovered.

At the very least, something of his existence should be preserved.

“Where is Senior Ha’s body?”

He asked.

“...You truly have no interest in me at all, do you?”

Peng Yeol-ran let out a self-mocking laugh.

Even now, her breath was growing fainter.

Her face, which did not suit a dying warrior, bore an unnatural calm.

Jeong Yeon-shin frowned.

“If you don’t answer properly, I will make it known beyond this battlefield.”

“...What do you mean? None of this matters. I am about to cross the Three Paths River...”

“I will spread the word that the previous Lord of the Peng Clan was a disgrace. That his greatest technique was nothing more than a mere parlor trick that lasted less than a second.”

“...What?”

"The Lord of Gold and Dawn will be the first to hear of this. Once I leave here, my next stop is Sichuan."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke quietly.

At once, the smile vanished from Peng Yeol-ran's face.

A duel between martial masters was never something to be dismissed as a mere fleeting exchange, yet the phrasing carried weight.

Especially to those who valued their honor above all else.

Peng Yeol-ran let out a soft sigh between ragged breaths.

"Stealing the Lord of Seonmok from you and Ipwang Fortress came at a steep cost. I lost the pride of my lifetime..."

"Enough of this nonsense. Answer me properly."

“...Suncheon’s Lord Ha Do-un left no body behind.”

Suddenly, Peng Yeol-ran's voice rang with clarity. A final burst of strength before death.

The colorless flames flickering in her gaze met Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes.

"What?"

"Unlike you, he had to endure the full force of Dragon Manifestation Sky Cannon with his entire body."

"......."

"His bones and flesh were torn to shreds. There was nothing left to retrieve. If you want to blame someone, curse the Lord of Gold and Dawn, who used him as a sacrifice for divine ascension."

Peng Yeol-ran finished speaking, her tone eerily calm.

Even as her face drained of all color, she showed no regret.

She had slain Suncheon’s Lord. She had seduced the Lord of Seonmok.

She had left no failures behind.

It was as if she had utterly humiliated the Seventeen Swords of the Society of Sacred Swords—the supposed foundation of the world.

For a martial artist who had indulged in every pleasure Murim had to offer, this was the perfect death.

"......."

Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent as he readjusted his grip on his sword.

Then—

Behind him.

The face of Li Shi-myeong, the Wind Monarch, twisted with urgency as he fought against Hahoe Wi-jin of the Celestial Forest Division.

One of his legs had been broken, and he was barely dodging the colossal fists of Hahoe Wi-jin.

Yet the moment Peng Yeol-ran’s dying words reached his ears, he abruptly twisted his body and leaped backward.

Toward the cliff where the wedding ceremony had originally been held.

Boom!

The ground shattered outward in all directions.

Li Shi-myeong was a master of leg techniques. The power he had cultivated through a lifetime of training was immense.

The instant his back took the brunt of Hahoe Wi-jin’s punch and his foot struck the earth, a razor-thin line carved through the air.

In the blink of an eye, he had crossed the vast distance—

And at its end stood the Lord of Seonmok, Cheon So-so.

She stood motionless.

Her face was veiled by a red wedding veil, concealing her expression.

From the moment chaos had erupted due to Jeong Yeon-shin, she had remained frozen in place.

Kwak!

The Wind Monarch seized both of her shoulders in an instant.

"Cheon So-so...! Cheon So-so! Listen to me! Your husband is in danger!"

The warriors of Seonmok had been taken hostage.

A forbidden spell had been placed upon their minds.

The Ghostly Tyrant King’s seductive arts were known to ensnare both men and women alike.

And so, Ice Jade Cheon So-so had completely turned her back on Ipwang Fortress.

Nothing that belonged to the Lord of Seonmok was truly hers anymore.

Not her body, not her mind.

Not even the sacred sapling of the Heavenly Tree, which she carried in her arms.

"I can still save Peng!"

A mad light flickered in Li Shi-myeong’s eyes.

The Way of the Wind, the martial path he had pursued his entire life, could not be completed without Peng Yeol-ran.

She had to live.

[You bastard! Where do you think you’re running?!]

Even as a bald-headed brute barreled toward him at terrifying speed, Li Shi-myeong only focused on Cheon So-so, rapidly whispering through pursed lips.

"Burn the sapling! Make sure its life force is completely transferred to your husband! If you do that, everything will—"

"...Disgrace of my clan."

Cheon So-so’s voice rang softly.

Her lips moved beneath the red veil.

"Fool."

"What?"

"You really believed it, didn't you?"

She lifted her head slightly.

"You thought the leader of the Society of Sacred Swords could be swayed by a mere woman? Even after seeing Seomye?"

"What the—!"

Li Shi-myeong’s eyes widened.

The Lord of Seonmok should not have been able to speak so clearly.

She should not have been able to maintain her composure.

How could she possibly be in her right mind?

She had even spent the night before her wedding with the Ghostly Tyrant King.

Her will should have already crumbled, leaving her to obey without question.

So much had been invested to break her.

The unorthodox Peng Clan had poured nearly all their accumulated artifacts ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ into this ritual.

Compared to that, simply killing her would have been laughably inexpensive.

"Do you know why the color of the Society of Sacred Swords’ leader is black?"

"This can’t be...!"

"Because it represents an untainted mind. Unlike you martial artists of the secular world, we are different."

Cheon So-so whispered.

The Ghostly Tyrant King was about to be lost forever.

Li Shi-myeong, spiraling into panic, suddenly looked up—

Beyond the red veil, a pair of serene, ice-blue eyes met his.

Ice Jade Cheon So-so.

The Lord of Seonmok.

She was of noble lineage, just like the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.

Because of that, she could harness the sacred energy of the Heavenly Tree’s sapling, which was precisely why the unorthodox Peng Clan had made her their target.

The Peng Clan had long since solidified their dominance within the grand formation. They had placed their own Heavenly Tree sapling in Cheon So-so’s hands, attempting to use it as a leash to control her.

But Cheon So-so, who had been brought here by the Lord of Gold and Dawn, had anticipated this.

For among everyone trapped within the formation, she alone understood the profound abilities of the Heavenly Tree.

"It prevents unwanted intrusions, preserves settlements in their rightful form..."

If she wished to avoid being swept away by the collapsing formation—if she wished to halt its disintegration—she had to embrace the sapling.

Even if it meant that its overwhelming spiritual force would erode her mind.

She had endured an agonizing length of time.

She had withstood much.

There were moments when she had nearly lost consciousness entirely.

But now, it was over.

Her youngest kin had arrived, transformed beyond recognition.

Just as the elders of their homeland had once reshaped battlefields, carving new orders from chaos—

She steeled her mind as if it were a sword.

She cast a sidelong glance toward Jeong Yeon-shin, who stood in the distance, locked in battle against the Twin Kings’ Army.

The youngest of the One-Pyeong Sword Pavilion’s masters was looking straight at her.

"Karma."

Cheon So-so mouthed the word like a mantra.

It was the price that the Wind Monarch and other foreign warriors would now have to pay—the retribution for underestimating the black-clad warriors of Ipwang Fortress.

A glacial light flickered in her eyes, as frigid as the frost of the northern sky.

She had her own martial mastery.

She had demonstrated that much in the battle where Jeong Yeon-shin had wagered himself and his subordinates.

Fwoosh—

Cheon So-so’s midnight-black hair lifted as the air around her chilled in an instant.

The Frozen Heaven’s Unwavering Ice Technique.

The Wind Monarch, Li Shi-myeong, who had been frozen in stunned disbelief, suddenly clenched his grip on her shoulders.

He had already lost one knee to Hahoe Wi-jin. If he lost his balance here, it was over.

But Cheon So-so didn’t care.

There were three figures clad in the black of Ipwang Fortress here today.

And one of them had transformed so drastically that he now bore the qualifications of the Purple Mantle.

Ipwang Fortress would not allow anything less than an overwhelming display.

Whoooosh—!

A pristine white wind swept outward from her in all directions.

The ground beneath them began to freeze with a brittle cracking sound.

Beyond Li Shi-myeong’s shoulder—

—"Ha! So that’s how it is! This body... was defeated both in skill and spirit...?!"

A flash of silver streaked through the air—

Jeong Yeon-shin’s Seomye struck like a beam of light, slicing through the Ghostly Tyrant King’s neck without hesitation.

Perhaps Li Shi-myeong sensed the unbelievable aura behind him.

As his face twisted in shock and he instinctively turned his head—

Cheon So-so’s hand blurred within the swirling frost.

Clang—!

“Hnghh...!”

It was an ice-imbued palm strike.

It struck Li Shi-myeong’s solar plexus like a hammer, shattering through him.

He gasped in pain, baring his teeth like a wounded beast, unable to conceal his despair.

“Y-you...! Damn hounds of the imperial family...!”

Crack!

His already contorted skull exploded.

Hahoe Wi-jin’s fist, crashing down from above, was like a compressed hurricane.

It ground Li Shi-myeong’s skull and spine to dust, scattering blood in every direction.

"Reinforcements have arrived, Seomye."

"I see that."

Hahoe Wi-jin and Cheon So-so exchanged a brief nod.

At that moment, they saw it.

Their junior, surrounded by a luminous, formless lotus—

The air around him swirling with countless white dandelion seeds.

His presence was overwhelming.

—"Suncheon’s Lord, the Lord of Seonmok, the Celestial Forest Division... if there is another who dared to interfere in the deaths of these warriors, speak now."

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Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice boomed from afar.

It was more akin to a snarl than a spoken declaration.

These were words unfit for a gathering of the Huangbo Family, the Beggars’ Sect, and the Kunlun School—

Yet the sheer force behind them made it sound like a declaration of war from one of Murim’s most supreme masters.

Hahoe Wi-jin and Cheon So-so kicked off the ground simultaneously.

Not to stop him—

But to stand at his back.

Boom!

As their figures arced through the air, the exasperated voice of Huangbo Gon, the Divine Beast King, rapidly approached.

“...Perhaps now would be a good time to sheath those lethal blades? The liquor brewed with the tea leaves here is quite enjoyable, you see...”