Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 320: Hyeon Won (15)

The grand city stretched endlessly, a forest of tiled roofs covering the landscape.

The core leaders of the Blood Sect, including Salhyup, were scattered throughout Taiyuan.

They had all mastered martial arts that allowed them to sense the size, distribution, and gaze of the surrounding crowd.

It was called Hogum Sense Technique—a supreme skill known across the martial world.

“Have those monsters really disappeared? Just a few days ago, the city was in chaos.”

“Who knows... Either way, it’s best not to go out after dark. I heard that all the children of the Zhang family, who run the fabric store near the well, vanished. Let’s finish delivering this and get back home quickly.”

“Yeah, yeah. If we hold out, sooner or later, the military or Ipwang’s swordsmen will step in. Before we see the full moon three times, at least. That’s how it’s always been, according to my father.”

“To be honest, even if they do come, I’m ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) worried. The other day, I caught a glimpse of someone leaping across three rooftops at once. Ipwang’s warriors aren’t invincible, after all. These days, warriors are dying all over the place... No matter how skilled a single swordmaster is, one treasured sword can’t beat a hundred iron ones.”

“Who knows? Maybe even Prince Nezha of Ipwang will come. The whole city of Pyeongyang was in an uproar recently. Zhuge Cheonsang, the Reincarnated Dragon, is dead.”

“Hah! The Lotus Prince? Dream on. You’d be lucky just to meet one of the White-Clad Warriors and be able to bow to them.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same.”

This conversation drifted through the streets as a group of merchants pulled a cart stacked with straw.

Though dozens of Blood Sect assassins were overseeing the trial, not a single bystander noticed them.

They had perfected their concealment arts to an extreme degree—melding into the city's rhythm while controlling the very perception of their surroundings.

They lurked in shadowed alleys, rooftops, and watchtowers, standing just inches away from oblivious city guards.

They were present, yet not present.

Even the group gathered on the roof of a wealthy merchant's mansion followed the same rule.

Three black-cloaked elders stood alongside Salhyup, his dark hat casting a shadow over his sharp features.

Above them, a transparent, dome-shaped Qi barrier muffled all sound—a secret technique of the Blood Sect.

One of the elders, a wrinkled old man with a sword scar across his nose, was the first to speak.

“Vice-Lord, the more I think about it, the more amazed I am.”

“Elder Orchid Sword, please speak freely.”

Salhyup kept his gaze fixed on the rooftop where Hyeon Won-chang stood, awaiting his trial.

A look of satisfaction settled in the elder’s eyes.

“It won’t be long before you ascend as the Blood Sect’s new lord. You have gathered all the lost techniques of our branch families... I’ve long believed that you would be the one to erase the division between the direct and branch bloodlines. And it seems my judgment was correct.”

“It wasn’t me who gathered them—it was Seon-hwi.”

“But it was you who led him to do so. All the elders have been deeply impressed. Isn't that right?”

The elder turned his head, and the other two elders nodded in solemn agreement before each offering their own remarks.

“After the Heavenly Demon Temple was destroyed, without you, our sect would have scattered and perished. The entire Elder Council has long been in awe of you.”

“You have surpassed the direct bloodline despite being from a branch family. There is no such thing as an illegitimate birth in the martial world.”

“Indeed, indeed.”

Orchid Sword Elder nodded.

He never once glanced in Hyeon Won-chang’s direction, his eyes solely focused on Salhyup.

“With the techniques that Geum Seon-hwi gathered, combined with our sect’s original scrolls, the Dark Bloom Severance Technique will finally be completed. The moment you master it, you will be formally acknowledged as the Lord of the Blood Sect.”

The Dark Bloom Severance Technique was the secret art of the Blood Sect’s lord—created and bestowed upon the sect by the Heavenly Demon himself.

Mastering it also meant unlocking the seals restricting the lord’s full power.

It was a technique that only the rightful successor could obtain, with various portions scattered among the branch families to prevent unworthy hands from claiming it.

Only one final line of the technique was kept within the main sect, and safeguarding it was the duty of every Blood Sect Lord throughout history.

Salhyup listened in silence as the elders showered him with praise, then suddenly let out a soft chuckle.

“All those scrolls are in Seon-hwi’s hands now. He holds them as a rightful direct heir. Are the elders really considering forcing them from him?”

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

Even Orchid Sword Elder, who had been beaming with approval, averted his gaze.

It was clear that each of them had already made up their minds, yet none dared to speak their thoughts outright.

Salhyup’s smile sharpened, exuding a dangerous aura.

“I would rather Seon-hwi not break our sect’s laws. Even after the previous lord’s death left us in ruin, we have still managed to rebuild a proper structure.”

The rooftop fell silent.

None of the three elders nodded in agreement.

“Vice-Lord, we elders have learned much from the calamities we suffered. The idea of ‘direct lineage’ is nothing more than an outdated technique. And if one’s blood is tainted, then all the more reason to erase it.”

“The elder is correct. We will not beg Geum Seon-hwi for anything. We will break his bones if necessary. We can seize Huangbo’s heir, activate all of our sect’s ancient traps, or place the leash around Ipwang’s offspring... No ancient clan will ever dare to bow to anyone.”

“The Young Master of the Mo Yong Clan has already arrived with his uncle, the Grand Ritual Sword. The longer we delay Seon-hwi’s trial, the worse the situation will become. We must act swiftly. Bamboo Sword Elder spent half the day waiting for a mere—”

It happened then.

Salhyup’s eyes widened sharply.

He had been casually turning toward the elders, his mind focused on their talk of torture, when he suddenly snapped his head back toward the city gates.

And there—

A blinding radiance erupted.

A decrepit old woman shot down toward the boy.

Salhyup’s perception slowed to a crawl. Not just the movement of his pupils but even the way light hit his retinas and transmitted the image to his brain—everything seemed to stretch in time.

He barely had a moment to react after recognizing the face of the one who had become the target of Jukgeom Geum Yeon-sang.

Is this insane?!

Time slowed to an extreme.

A dagger emerged from the old woman’s sleeve as she descended. At the same moment, Yeonhwa Nata, who had just passed through the city gate with two others, turned his head.

The line of sunlight grazing his jaw momentarily resembled the gleam of a blade.

Swish.

Yeonhwa Nata’s pitch-black sleeve lifted. His hand cut through the space between them with unnerving ease, piercing into the moment as if he had stepped into another timeline altogether.

There was no great surge of inner power, not even the faintest ripple of energy. And yet, his reflexes exploded across his body like lightning. Salhyup felt it.

“......?”

Jukgeom Geum Yeon-sang, who had been streaking down from above, had a flicker of surprise in the wrinkles around her eyes.

But she had no time to react.

Yeonhwa Nata’s movement had been nothing short of preternatural.

The moment he turned his head, his extended hand coiled around the attacker’s wrist. His motion was unnervingly smooth, as if he had calculated everything in advance.

It felt like a master of Goldflow combat was performing a prearranged sparring form—one they had trained in for a lifetime.

Wooong—

A wave of energy rippled from Yeonhwa Nata’s grip.

Only in that final moment did he exert force.

It wasn’t overwhelming, just intensely concentrated—almost sacred in nature.

Had this assassin’s techniques not purged the presence of demonic energy from their style, the mere act of being caught would have been enough to end them.

Salhyup immediately grasped what Geum Yeon-sang must have been thinking.

There’s still a chance.

The old woman’s knee surged forward, her captured wrist suspended midair.

The Hocheon Divine Body Technique, an esoteric technique of the Assassination Gate. A brief movement generating immense force, channeling the power through the entire body and amplifying it into the grip.

A prime foundation for full-body explosive strikes. At Jukgeom’s level, even a fraction of a second would allow her to unleash an invisible wave of sword energy.

Her wrinkled eyes curved with lethal precision.

But suddenly, a murky dust cloud burst up, tangling her hair.

Yeonhwa Nata yanked her wrist.

A seemingly minuscule motion generated a concentrated shockwave around her, as if she had been trapped inside a miniature storm.

At the same time, the indistinct flow of Geum Yeon-sang’s sword aura was severed—cut apart in countless, pitiful strands.

A completely different level of combat.

For a fleeting instant, the old woman recalled something she had warned her disciples about time and time again.

—Your judgment is your lifeline.

“Huh...!”

A drawn-out gasp escaped from Jukgeom’s throat, something between a sigh and a death rattle.

Her body, still plummeting from above, twisted violently before crashing down in a vicious arc.

Kwaaaaaang—!

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The ground shook in an instant.

Blood sprayed through the thick cloud of dust.

The slow-moving perception of an assassin’s time was obliterated, crushed beneath overwhelming force.

Among Yeonhwa Nata’s companions, a woman with a greatsword slung over her back spoke up lazily.

“Someone you know? With your reputation, I’d think you’d have stacked up thousands of grudges.”

“No.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had just slammed the old woman into the earth, slowly released his grip.

His fingertips momentarily brushed against the attacker’s shriveled wrist, but he felt no pulse.

He had only exerted just enough force to match the attack he had received, yet she had died instantly.

Yeon-shin hesitated for a brief moment.

Damn.

A sharp numbness spread through his body. The full-body shockwave he had unconsciously triggered had further compressed his already-injured pressure points and muscles.

But he had no choice. He had to match the incoming strike—a strike infused with the intent to kill, honed by a lifetime of assassinations.

“Where did they come from? That was a ridiculous distance to cover.”

“Indeed, that wasn’t any ordinary level of movement skill.”

Gun Yu-rin and Jeon Baek surveyed their surroundings.

The street had become eerily silent.

Strangely enough, not even the city guards rushed forward.

Only the scattered pedestrians, throwing them cautious glances while slipping away, remained. Their reactions suggested this kind of violence wasn’t uncommon.

Gun Yu-rin leaned to one side, tilting her head.

“I did hear rumors about some chaos breaking out in Taewon. Something about masked lunatics running around butchering people.”

“Isn’t that a common occurrence?”

Jeon Baek blinked in response.

“Maybe. But Taewon’s usually somewhat under control. Not that I should be the one saying that.”

The daughter of the Sim Mu-ryeon Lord gave a sheepish chuckle.

At that very moment—

A brilliant meteor-like light streaked over the high walls, slicing through the turbulent air, hurtling directly toward the side of Jeong Yeon-shin’s head.

It was as if it had always been there, seamlessly interwoven into the fabric of reality.

A frigid gleam carved itself into the air.

It was sword light.

BANG!

Was she trying to make a good impression? In an instant, Gun Yu-rin, who had instinctively moved to block Jeong Yeon-shin, was sent flying.

At the same time, a translucent shockwave rippled outward in concentric circles, and an exquisite sword tumbled to the ground at Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet.

“Young Lady!”

Jeon Baek gasped and immediately dashed toward her, but before he could reach her, a voice draped in false nobility resonated from behind the wall.

“Just now... he clearly failed to react, didn’t he? The so-called Bright Wing Lord?”

“It appeared that way to me as well. I can only admire such refined perception.”

“He’s still far beneath his father.”

Two figures descended lightly from the top of the wall.

Tap.

Their footsteps were featherlight. The kind of movement that instantly betrayed the fact that they had been trained in elite martial techniques.

Their appearance only confirmed it further.

Their silk robes were without a single crease, and the delicate pink hue suggested wealth. They were immaculately dressed, as though they had their garments pressed daily.

The young man at the front wore a gilded mask depicting the Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal—the legendary Monkey King. His subordinate, standing slightly behind him, wore a grotesque ghost mask twisted into a perpetual grimace. To those untrained in martial arts, they would look like true monsters.

These were, without a doubt, some of the criminals responsible for throwing Taewon into chaos.

Rumors of masked figures wreaking havoc had spread widely, yet the military had done nothing. People had begun to murmur that the world was turning upside down.

Whoever they were, they had enormous influence. Their need to conceal their identities was proof enough.

People like them could not afford to be exposed.

Am I caught up in a three-way struggle now? All because of the Heavenly Demon Vault?

Had the Bright Wing Lord’s presence drawn them in?

Countless presences began to stir in the surrounding area. The clash of blades rang out from different corners of the street.

Jeong Yeon-shin could feel it—his enemies were closing in, forming a massive encirclement around him.

Thud! Thud!

Powerful bursts of internal energy filled the air, dense and overwhelming. The pressure was staggering—a suffocating web of martial prowess.

“Seeing you up close, it’s obvious now. Bright Wing Lord, I don’t see any protective energy around you.”

The masked man in the Great Sage mask spoke.

“They say you achieved the great feat of slaying the Reincarnated Hidden Dragon. A feat like that doesn’t come without consequences. I can see it clearly—this isn’t you holding your energy back. You simply don’t have the strength to unleash it.”

A deep, bluish light flickered within the eye holes of the mask.

Jeong Yeon-shin immediately sensed something ominous.

It was similar to the presence he had felt from Baek Mi-ryeo and the Sunmaren Lord of Sichuan—the tainted aura of demonic energy.

“You must have regretted it. If you had stayed put while your father went to find you, you might have been safe.”

The masked man continued slowly.

“You’ll die without ever knowing who I am. But once I extract the core of your mystical power and hand it to the short-legged artisans, I’ll possess a peerless treasure. With the Heavenly Demon Armor and the Jade of Arcane Power, I could shatter through the North and Xinjiang without opposition.”

A faint, cold chuckle laced his words. There was confidence, bordering on arrogance.

Not only did he have the audacity to approach Yeonhwa Nata directly, but he also possessed an uncanny knowledge of Jeong Yeon-shin’s current condition. His perception and information network were formidable.

And his speed was nothing to scoff at, either. The moment he sensed the brief clash, he had arrived in an instant.

Jeong Yeon-shin silently observed the masked man, his head tilting slightly to one side.

For a brief moment, a sliver of white light flickered across his eyes.

“Your tone is strange.”

“...What?”

“When I saw you at the Hanzhong Martial Alliance, you acted like a proper noble heir. But now, you seem like someone who’ll end up practicing bedchamber techniques in the future. It’s impressive how shameless you are at your age.”

“...What?”

“You’re the Young Master of the Mo Yong Clan, aren’t you? Act like it, Mo Yong Myeong-jun.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.

For a moment, the masked man froze.

Silence fell over the street.

TL note:

Jukgeom means "Bamboo Sword" and is often used as a title or nickname for master swordsmen. In the context of Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time, it is the title of Geum Yeon-sang, signifying her mastery in assassination and sword techniques.

Yeonhwa Nata is the title of Jeong Yeon-shin, which translates literally as "Lotus Manifestation."