Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 378: The World (2)
Jeong Yeon-shin sharpened his heightened perception, expanding it in all directions.
The lines drawn by countless weapons touched his skin like icy threads, and the reverse techniques needed to counter them formed blazing patterns in his mind.
The Tenfold Gate Masters' eyes widened.
—Hwoooosh!
Jeong Yeon-shin spun the shaft of the Fang-Heaven Halberd with one hand, his movement fluid as his waist twisted effortlessly.
The long spear naturally drew a sweeping arc, extending its reach behind him.
—Puuuhk!
A powerful shockwave erupted—the abdomen of one of the Tenfold Gate Masters, who had been charging from behind, was impaled through.
A deep trench was carved into the ground, tearing through the earth in the aftermath of his advance.
The halberd pierced clean through his back, and semi-transparent wind scattered from the ruptured energy within the spear strike.
Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his brow.
Grandmother Ak could have honed that thrust even sharper.
[That spear strike... It’s mine...?!]
[How...?!]
Releasing the halberd's shaft, Jeong Yeon-shin caught the falling axe from above and immediately hurled it forward.
The moment the axe left his grip, a propulsive shockwave burst forth from his palm, flaring like a colorless blaze.
Then—
—Boom!
The head of the shield-wielding Tenfold Gate Master exploded on impact.
The earth was torn apart, scattering debris like shrapnel, as shattered boulders were flung high into the sky.
[What...?!]
The surviving enemies’ collective intentions converged into shock.
Jeong Yeon-shin gathered Radiance-Wheel Energy at the Yongcheon Acupoint beneath his feet and twisted in place, catching the wind with his entire body.
The formation of the Tenfold Gate Masters was already ruined.
Even the leaders of the Thirteen Heavens of the Unorthodox Ways would have struggled here.
Empty Moon Dance.
This was their final trump card—the technique of their absolute years.
In truth, this was the first time Jeong Yeon-shin had ever been pushed this far since his rebirth.
If he broke this formation, victory would be his.
He would be breaking through the weight of their accumulated years.
—KWAOOOOOOOOM!
He slammed his palm, clad in Hwan-gang, against an incoming Segmented Whip.
Simultaneously, he activated Weighed Force Manipulation.
The force embedded in Hwan-gang was transmitted through the whip—all the way into his opponent’s grip.
A powerful shockwave split the dust apart, opening a massive divide on both sides.
The hand gripping the segmented whip twitched uncontrollably.
Then—
He used Golden Thread Binding Technique.
The iron whip coiled in reverse, ensnaring another sword-wielding Tenfold Gate Master and binding him tightly.
With his other hand, he spun the Iron Cudgel in a reverse grip, driving it straight into another opponent’s solar plexus.
—Zzeeeeeooooong!
A short, but intense vibration shot up to his elbow.
It was powerful—his opponent had fully unleashed their Cudgel Art with bursting force.
The shaken figure rippled like a distorted reflection in water.
[Ugh!]
The barehanded Tenfold Gate Master, their true body, staggered backward with a groan.
The strike had carried over to the real body, passing through the connection of spiritual essence.
[How dare you, brat...!]
The wounded Tenfold Gate Masters regenerated and lunged at him once more.
—Tap!
Jeong Yeon-shin caught an incoming spear thrust barehanded.
It wasn’t ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ difficult.
He had already mimicked the exact same grip and energy wave movement—there was no resistance at all.
With a simple redirection of the spear shaft, he impaled an approaching enemy wielding a hook blade.
Boom!
The air detonated in a fierce explosion.
[This... This is impossible!]
The barehanded Tenfold Gate Master detonated his energy, directing it toward his Empty Moon Dance clones.
His face twisted in disbelief.
Jeong Yeon-shin caught his expression in his peripheral vision.
Then—
He moved.
Behind him, his afterimage remained, formed by the sheer density of the air rippling in his wake.
His body was already moving faster than his energy dispersion could keep up with.
Shape in Disarray.
[......!]
The space around him slowed—thick and viscous, like moving through a marsh.
Yet this realm of transcendence followed a different flow of time.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes gleamed with a piercing blue radiance, his gaze darting swiftly.
Every weapon closing in to carve his body apart only intensified the surge of enlightenment within him.
—Swish! Crash! BOOOOOOM!
Hundreds of lines intertwined, overlapping into a brilliant, chaotic web.
Jeong Yeon-shin seized every weapon in the hands of the Tenfold Gate Masters.
He was completely entranced—there was no gap between his techniques.
A spear thrust became an axe strike, a sword deflection redirected into another’s fatal wound, each motion seamlessly weaving into the next.
Every time he struck, the mountain beneath them shook violently, trembling under the weight of his assaults.
His afterimages scattered in all directions, following the overlapping trajectories of dozens of weapon forms.
The light etched in the air formed an enormous lattice of interwoven brilliance.
And then—
He arrived at the real Tenfold Gate Master.
The scattered afterimages merged back into one.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand landed on his opponent’s abdomen.
A double-layered vortex of Hwan-gang swirled within his palm, tearing at the very earth beneath them.
“That’s enough.”
[What...?!]
“There’s nothing to see in your Hundred Strike Fist.”
—BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A deafening explosion, as if lightning had struck the earth itself.
A massive shockwave rose like a tidal wave, engulfing everything.
The Tenfold Gate Master was hurled backward, his entire protective energy shattered, the remnants dissolving into the dust-filled air.
They scattered like faint stars dissolving into the clouds.
“......”
The crowd—who had fallen silent long ago—only grew quieter.
Even those on distant peaks and along the nearby mountain paths stood completely still.
The supreme martial masters, who had perched on high tree branches with arms crossed, were frozen in place.
Even those who had arrived with silk canopies and palanquins, as if to enjoy a grand spectacle, had stopped fanning themselves.
Even if one’s movements were as fast as light,
The flow of a duel could always be grasped.
The hesitations of the Tenfold Gate Masters in the final moments made it clear.
The fight was over.
—Ssssshhhh...
A dense smoke blanketed the hillside.
It was as if a cloud had descended upon the peak, enshrouding everything in a thick veil.
Then, the silence shattered.
The air erupted with frantic voices, desperate calls slicing through the mountain’s serenity, an uproar of disbelief and uncertainty.
—BOOM!
A massive dust storm scattered in all directions like a whirlwind being torn apart.
A brilliant white sword streaked across the sky, embedding itself into the scabbard of the Bright Wing Lord's blade with a resounding impact.
Like ripples spreading across the surface of a lake, the dust dissipated, revealing a stark scene.
Standing at the center, Bright Wing Lord Ma Gwang-ik gazed forward, his expression unreadable.
Blood dripped from multiple wounds across his body, yet the sight was not gruesome—instead, it carried a certain nobility, reminiscent of the aristocrats of the Bloodflame Cult.
Across from him, a single figure lay sprawled—the Tenfold Gate Master.
The symbolic armor he once wore had been stripped away.
The shattered fragments of his once-impervious plate gleamed in the sunlight, pieces scattered across the battlefield.
A sacred weapon, indomitable even when caked in dirt, had been utterly destroyed.
And it was just one.
The rest of his clones had vanished.
—Kuhak!
The fallen Tenfold Gate Master coughed up blood, the sight stilling the tongues of all who watched.
"...Is it over? For a moment, it felt like we were watching a battle between divine warriors..."
"Sir! What in the world just happened?"
"M-Ma Gwang-ik... is standing alone."
"The Dark Flame Monarch has won!"
"Impossible...! The Ten Thousand Soldiers of the Grand War Formation... defeated?!"
The frontmost spectators, standing closest to the battlefield, fell into a stunned silence, while those further back—unable to see clearly—grew increasingly restless.
Strangely, it was the nobles and high-ranking figures who recovered their composure first.
"Messenger falcons! Bring the messengers at once! Are all three still secured?!"
"This isn't the Destruction Sovereign, but a mere young lord... How could Ma Gwang-ik have won...?!"
"Send a dispatch to the main fortress of Ipwang in Yangyang. No, on second thought... we should inform the first son instead of the second. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, after all."
"Pull yourself together. You're the heir—you can't afford to be distracted here. Tell me—how do you think this defeat will impact the martial world of Sichuan?"
The commotion spread like wildfire.
Yet despite the growing uproar, few dared to move.
The battle’s result was too monumental—the shockwaves of its consequences had only just begun.
A countless crowd stood rooted in place, murmuring among themselves.
—Piiiiii!
From all around, messenger falcons and spiritual birds took flight, flapping their wings furiously.
The master of the Thirteen Heavens of the Unorthodox Ways had been defeated by the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.
The martial world was about to be thrown into upheaval.
"...A mere black-clad warrior has climbed all the way up to this point."
The fallen Tenfold Gate Master slowly opened his mouth, his gaze not on Jeong Yeon-shin, but on the distant sun.
He was one of the Thirteen Heaven Lords—a transcendent being.
Even now, his eyes shimmered with pitch-black power, allowing him to stare into the sun without flinching.
"...Truly absurd."
His voice was hoarse but unwavering.
The Lord of the Grand War Formation.
His vital energy was waning rapidly, yet his inner breathing remained deep.
Even as his throat filled with blood, his voice did not falter.
Jeong Yeon-shin observed him in silence before parting his lips.
"You should have expected this."
"...Expected what?"
"The parasites feeding on the people’s suffering have harmed even the warriors of the rightful path. This was never just a duel."
"Then... what was it?"
"A national sentence."
"Ha...! And you think I should have expected a judgment?"
The Tenfold Gate Master burst into laughter.
"Such nonsense. No matter how mighty the Sacred Sword Division, they are but one of seventeen factions.
Even if the righteous sects joined forces, it would only prevent annihilation, not guarantee dominance. Any sect with a supreme martial master would naturally consider your forces insignificant."
"A corpse has no need for a long tongue."
Jeong Yeon-shin dismissed his protest with finality, his voice unwavering.
The Tenfold Gate Master spoke no more.
"......."
"Now, die."
It was as if the words themselves carried a divine decree.
Slowly.
The Tenfold Gate Master's breathing ceased.
The dense aura of invisible energy that had once emanated from his body vanished like a lie.
A lifeless corpse remained.
"Lord of the Gate!"
"General! Grand General!"
The remaining Tenfold Gate disciples rushed forward, their armor clanking noisily.
Jeong Yeon-shin paid them no mind.
His priority was killing the remaining Lords of the Thirteen Heavens.
He needed to preserve his strength.
Just then—
"Ma Gwang-ik!"
One of the disciples checking the corpse suddenly shouted, his voice thick with resentment.
His gaze lifted, his eyes burning with malice.
"We are not the true main force of the sect!"
"......?"
"Are you not curious? Where are the countless affiliated sects under the Unorthodox Ways, the Sunmaren, and the Golden Dawn Sect?
Where are the warriors of Yeo Ryeong and the Forsaken Sword Sect, who allied with the main sect?
Why have none of them appeared?"
The man raved with fury, but before he could say more, he was struck in the nape and collapsed.
The attacker was one of his own fellow disciples.
"We apologize for his disrespect, Bright Wing Lord. You are the rightful victor of this duel."
The man folded his hands in salute.
"We shall now retrieve our lord’s body and leave."
Jeong Yeon-shin watched them in silence before turning his back.
The Unorthodox Ways would reveal nothing more.
Even if he interrogated them, they would not speak.
Still, he measured the time in his mind.
If the Lord of Sunmaren or the Golden Dawn Sect failed to appear, he would descend the mountain immediately.
Placing Radiance-Wheel Energy at his throat, he finally spoke.
[The next traitor—step forward.]
—Hwoooosh!
A gust of wind surged up the hillside, carrying with it the rustling leaves.
The black hem of his battle-worn robe fluttered wildly in the wind, its fabric stained with blood.
***
The masters of the Qingcheng Sect and Emei Sect had taken refuge inside a cave along a nearby cliffside.
The disciples accompanying the Tenfold Gate Master were far from elite warriors, and neither the Lord of Sunmaren nor the Golden Dawn Sect had shown themselves.
They could not afford to let their guard down.
—Rumble.
Even the most esteemed masters of the Orthodox Nine Sects, hailed as immortal sages and enlightened bodhisattvas, were not spared from the aftermath of the duel.
As the crowds above stomped and shouted, loose stones and dust trickled down upon them.
It was madness.
"So it's true... Ma Gwang-ik won. I still can't believe it."
"This is unnatural. A martial artist of his level at that age... It’s as if Bodhidharma himself has been reborn."
"That wasn't the same man I saw at the Han-Zhong Martial Alliance. We might have to acknowledge another violet-clad master in Ipwang Fortress."
Their voices were laced with astonishment and resignation.
The young generation of rising martial artists spoke among themselves—Jeok Un-ryong of the Qingcheng Sect, the Golden Palm Maiden of Emei, and the Young Sword Lord of Mount Song.
"......."
The sect leaders of Qingcheng and Emei sat in silence at the cave entrance, seated in meditation.
The only movement was the gentle breeze brushing against their robes.
Then—
"Satae."
A young man, dressed in pristine white robes, his sharp features as keen as a blade, called out.
It was the Sect Leader of Qingcheng.
The Abbess of Emei, Baekyak Satae, turned her head.
"Speak."
"I shall step forward in the next duel."
"The young abbot will not allow it. Despite his gentle heart, his decisions are as unyielding as steel."
"A child must listen to his elders. Such is the natural order and law of the world."
"A child? Judging by appearances alone, there is no youth more extraordinary than him."
The Qingcheng Sect Leader offered no response.
The Tenfold Gate Master had fallen.
Ma Gwang-ik had already exceeded expectations.
If he continued to defeat the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens, his fame would be unmatched—but it was too great a risk to let him stake his life on such a slim chance.
And then—
—Hwaaaaa!
A bone-chilling presence slithered into the cave, sending an eerie darkness creeping over the surroundings.
An overwhelming demonic aura—unmistakably monstrous.
It had appeared suddenly.
"It’s the Lord of Sunmaren! Disciples, begin your breathing techniques!"
"Do not open your mouths!"
—The Duel Arena.
On the distant slopes of Misan’s Unhoe Peak, an elderly figure in a black robe strode forward, parting the mist as he ascended.
Each step left behind a dark, smoldering footprint, and despite being hundreds of feet away, his ghastly aura spread like suffocating poison.
—Rumble.
Black waves of energy flickered against the sunlight, making the sky seem dim and flickering.
He was the master of the previous generation's Lord of Sunmaren.
A living incarnation of the Underworld Flame King.
His very presence demanded silence from the crowd.
The Sect Leader of Qingcheng rose as if responding to an unseen command.
From the hem of his robes, alternating blue and red energies flickered in turn.
"Satae, I will take my leave."
"Hmm..."
Ma Gwang-ik, now face to face with the Lord of Sunmaren, looked perilously vulnerable.
Unlike the elder, whose demonic energy roared like a raging tempest, the young warrior simply stood there, observing his surroundings.
[So, you called me a mere beast. And that is why you stand before me so irreverently?]
"Old man, you’ve come at the right time."
[Your insight is laughable. Do you think I am on the same level as some lowly imperial soldier?]
The Lord of Sunmaren’s voice sent his demonic aura surging in all directions.
It was a presence of unparalleled magnitude, his energy flowing without restriction.
"There is something you need to hear."
The moment Ma Gwang-ik finished speaking—
—Woooom!
The weapons scattered across the battlefield—all the discarded blades, spears, and axes—suddenly levitated into the air.
It was a familiar sight to the audience.
All the weapons spun on their own, slowly encircling Ma Gwang-ik and the Lord of Sunmaren.
It was a bizarre harmony.
Was this Ten Thousand Blades Returning to the Heavens?
Or was it the profound truth of Sword Mastery?
—Crackle! Crackle!
Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com.
Among the great ring of floating weapons, streaks of holy white light flickered, darting through the air like striking lightning.
As the scene unfolded, some of the monks from the Emei Sect clasped their hands together and chanted, "Amitabha."
Then, the Lord of Sunmaren moved his lips.
"...I concede."
—Step.
The Sect Leader of Qingcheng, who had been about to leap into battle, froze in place.
