Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 333: Grandfather and Grandson (6)

The surroundings were engulfed in light. A sword fist, materialized through divine techniques.

The Heart Sword bestowed by the Lord of Ipwang Fortress was fundamentally a technique that attuned to the opponent’s energy flow.

Jeong Yeon-shin seized control of the sword fist, which had been resonating with Mo Yong Jung-rak’s energy, making it his own.

Mo Yong Jung-rak’s Life-Cutting Stroke was formed from fragments of true energy that enhanced sword strikes. With the Brilliant Wheel Qi, it was ripe for the taking.

Hwaaaaaak—!

The Northern Darkness Sword was engulfed in blue flames, its shape distorting into the form of a blade. The force was akin to an inferno, the sheer sound of it consuming the air was deafening.

[How dare you...!]

Mo Yong Jung-rak’s will resounded faintly, like an echo.

The flame—composed of energy waves—spread like a wildfire up his entire body, starting from the sacred sword he had plunged into Jeong Yeon-shin’s abdomen.

The layered force of the Eight Directions Energy Blast raged outward, tearing through the surroundings like a storm.

It was no longer merely a single technique. This was the force of a sun devouring the heavens.

A close-quarters engagement.

At this distance, Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword was conveniently short.

The deafening roar did not cease. His blurred hand movements transitioned into a devastating sequence of strikes, relentlessly tearing into Mo Yong Jung-rak.

Jjeojeojeojeong—! Blue sparks erupted violently. Each and every impact was monstrous.

Even amidst this, Ma Gwang-ik, the Lord of Bright Wings, firmly clenched his sword.

Convulsions rippled through his body due to the piercing wound, only to subside under the control of Jeongga’s Movement Art. Not even a groan escaped him.

Never missing a strike, the mark of a true martial deity. His unwavering spirit etched a frown on the forehead of the Holy Radiance Sword General.

This can’t be...

He, too, was among the most formidable warriors in the Liaodong region. A swordsman raised to defend his family from the enigmatic threats posed by the Northern Tribes.

His pursuit of Heavenly Demon Martial Pulse was never for personal glory.

To withstand the strike of a Northern Combat Deity, one would need even the legendary armor of true energy, woven by the Heavenly Demon of old.

The sacrifice of countless lesser sects was inevitable.

When Ma Gwang-ik’s sword descended upon him, Mo Yong Jung-rak altered the nature of his Protective Qi.

As soon as the sacred force of energy waves brushed his robes, it blazed into heat like fire. At the same time, Mo Yong’s peerless internal energy manifested its full might.

The outermost layer of the Light Barrier transformed into the Invincible Heavenly Qi of the Mo Yong Clan—a formidable shield.

Kwaaaang!

And yet, Ma Gwang-ik’s energy shockwave burrowed deep into his body.

Instead of shielding him, the Heavenly Demon Armor, layered with Invincible Heavenly Qi, only amplified the impact, like fuel to a fire. Mo Yong Jung-rak’s vision blurred violently.

In the transcendent realm, his gaze locked with Ma Gwang-ik’s.

He had been constantly reshaping the framework of his Protective Qi, but suddenly, he felt something strange.

This brat...?

The child’s gaze was unsettling.

Even as he mercilessly broke apart Mo Yong Jung-rak’s Protective Qi with relentless sword strikes, those blue-lit eyes calmly studied his entire body.

A gaze filled with Azure Radiance. It was impossible to tell what he was seeing.

The perception of a peerless master was sharper than any needle. Mo Yong Jung-rak felt something profoundly bizarre.

It was as if he had returned to his childhood—like a frog hopping around the well of the Mo Yong Clan’s inner courtyard.

A young child, fascinated by the shape of its forelimbs and hind legs, had crouched down and cast a looming shadow. The frog, paralyzed, could only blink—until it was crushed to death by an awkward and innocently brutal stroke of the child’s sword.

His mind contracted in a chilling, suffocating sensation. He felt as though he were plummeting into an indescribable abyss.

Jjeojeojeojeong!

Before Mo Yong Jung-rak’s muscles could even react, the Azure Flame Sword was already striking those exact points.

His Neiguan Acupoint on the right wrist, the Jianyu Acupoint on his shoulder, and both Xuehai and Yanggu Acupoints at his knees—points critical for mobility.

The moment those areas were lifted, dozens of lightning-like flames locked them down.

The impact sent violent shockwaves through the air, and even the rebound force of the counter-strike was entirely captured in Ma Gwang-ik’s vision.

Forcing him to maintain the stance while burdened by the recoil of his own technique.

Mo Yong Jung-rak’s body was in worse shape than when he had pierced Ma Gwang-ik with his Heavenly Destruction Stroke. His internal injuries were piling up layer upon layer.

This level of perception, insight, and anatomical mastery was something only a person who had devoted their life to studying the human body could achieve.

Someone incomprehensibly attuned to the human form.

The intense blue radiance in Ma Gwang-ik’s eyes was an unrelenting penetration of Mo Yong Jung-rak’s entire being.

For the first time in his life, the peerless swordsman of the Mo Yong Clan felt his skin crawl. He couldn't tighten his grip.

So young, yet his core muscles and internal organs were honed to the extreme.

Jeong Yeon-shin, while gripping Mo Yong Jung-rak’s sword, remained utterly immovable, like an ancient monolith. His entire existence was martial arts incarnate.

Mo Yong Jung-rak’s will echoed outward.

[Do you even realize what you are doing...?!]

To slay the master of an ancient noble house alone—such an act would make him the target of all of Murim.

The slaughter of a patriarch.

Not merely crossing the line drawn by the martial world—but shattering it beyond recognition.

They still clung to the unspoken principle of non-interference.

This was why no martial artist could ever befriend the Master of the Divine Sword Corps.

Without reinforcements, he would forever be alone, no matter where he went.

And he would inevitably draw the attention of the greatest warriors in the land.

The monsters of martial arts, many of whom wandered without a fixed abode, would not ignore whispers of a new prodigy.

Nor would the strong, hungry for fame, resist the urge to challenge him. His duel records would pile endlessly.

[Can you bear the weight of the martial world?!]

Yet Mo Yong Jung-rak felt no shame.

His life’s purpose was far removed from preserving his honor in Murim.

To reclaim the lost light of the Mo Yong Clan, once bearers of Yan’s radiance. To free his house from the shadow cast by the Northern Combat Deity.

That was all that mattered.

But Jeong Yeon-shin heard none of it.

So this is the profundity of the Fire Realm... The energy flow near the patella subtly coils around the Inner Knee Eye Acupoint, making it easier to circulate energy through the Preserving Life Meridian...

As he struck down upon his opponent’s entire body, Jeong Yeon-shin unraveled the energy composition of the Heavenly Demon Armor, layer by layer.

It was said to be the ultimate technique woven together over a lifetime by the Holy Radiance Sword General. Even without meaning to, it was laid bare before his eyes.

Through the grip of his sword hilt, he could feel even the infinitesimally fine mesh that made up the structure.

At first glance, the Protective Qi appeared to flow like a shimmering aura, but in truth, it was an exquisitely intricate weave.

It was as though the Heavenly Demon’s energy had been tailored like an elegant robe—something displayed to be admired, flaunted. The very essence of the Heavenly Demon’s temperament could be inferred from it.

The will imbued within the incantation tickled his entire body.

It was different from Bodhidharma.

This was an intent that sought to engrave its presence into all of existence and become immortal.

Beyond mere transcendence—this was divine mystery.

A single moment stretched out like eternity.

And then, suddenly—

Something lodged within the technique spoke directly to Jeong Yeon-shin’s Upper Dantian.

[Arrogant.]

It was incomprehensible.

Could it be a lingering will, infused into this formless divine incantation? A will that had endured the passage of time, flowing forward like an unceasing current...

Jeong Yeon-shin thought absentmindedly.

I could probably weave one too.

A Protective Qi suited for the Brilliant Wheel Qi...

Kwakakakak—!

Shards of deep blue true energy erupted before his eyes.

Mo Yong Jung-rak’s Protective Qi was shattering into countless fragments.

Like a scattering constellation, pale streams of energy brushed through Jeong Yeon-shin’s hair as they rose into the night sky.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he heard the sound of laughter.

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And before he knew it, he was standing atop a devastated mountain ridge, its landscape turned to ruin.

At his feet lay Mo Yong Jung-rak, motionless.

He had withstood an inferno wrought from sword strikes, his entire body consumed by flames of energy. His physical form was barely intact.

His lips moved soundlessly.

“...A Northern Combat Deity... a Liaodong invader...”

His voice escaped in fragmented, breathless whispers.

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced down at him, then slowly began to pull the sword from his abdomen.

He carefully realigned his internal organs with Jeongga’s Movement Art, preserving his energy. The completely severed parts were tightly bound with True Energy Coagulation.

Clang—

The bloodstained sacred sword slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

Mo Yong Jung-rak’s murmuring ceased.

He slightly tilted his head. His gaze, which had been fixed on the distant sky, finally shifted to meet Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes—a dazed yet piercing stare.

“...I see.”

The Holy Radiance Sword General raised one corner of his lips.

“I was... a frog as well.”

His final breath dissipated into the air in a clear, unwavering voice.

***

The Sky-Piercing Sword of the Mo Yong Clan shot forward once more, kicking off a tree branch.

It had to deliver this shocking news to the main household.

How could this happen?!

It was unthinkable.

That Ma Gwang-ik, of all people, would kill the Clan Lord...

The presence of a peerless master held immense weight in the martial world. As a messenger, the Sky-Piercing Sword had to deliver the news faster than anyone.

The main family would no longer be able to hold their ground.

The moment the death of the Holy Radiance Sword General became known, martial artists with grudges against the Mo Yong Clan would flock to them.

So, too, would the countless enemies of the Northern Regions.

A clan that had lost both its patriarch and heir had no future to plan for—only survival.

Ma Gwang-ik! Ma Gwang-ik...!

His rage boiled over.

He wanted revenge.

But how?

He had heard Hu Gae of the Beggars’ Sect held disdain for Ma Gwang-ik. The Fanged Blades of the Ruined Sword Sect and the Ghost Archers of Amya Battlefront were unlikely to view Ipwang Fortress’s Seomye favorably either.

With some effort, he could uncover even more enemies.

Ma Gwang-ik’s movements...

Whoosh!

Suddenly, his vision went dark.

A hand gripped the back of his head, yanking him out of the air with impeccable technique, slamming his head downward and breaking his movement art.

He began falling through the air.

There was no way to resist.

He could feel the cold edge of a dagger pressing against the nape of his neck. A foreign energy force burrowed into his paralyzing acupoint at the back of his head.

Thud.

His entire body went numb as he collapsed to the ground.

As his vision spun, he caught sight of a curved smirk.

It belonged to an assassin, clad in a black hat.

Salhyup Geum Jon-hwi.

"We’ll question you later. There's something urgent right now."

The Sky-Piercing Sword was dragged back the way he had come, still held by the nape of his neck.

The first thing that entered his vision was Ma Gwang-ik.

Lying next to the Clan Lord’s corpse, his eyes °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° were closed.

Something was off.

He was definitely unconscious.

Of course.

Just as the Sky-Piercing Sword twisted his lips—

“I have received word from my subordinates—a thousand-strong military force is heading north. Officially, it's for northern reinforcements, but...”

Geum Jon-hwi’s words trailed off.

A man in a pink robe gave a slight nod.

Ma Yeon-jeok sat by his grandson’s side, his face solemn.

“That will do. Hand it over.”

The words were not directed at Geum Jon-hwi.

The three top warriors of the Ma Gwang-ik household, all of whom looked equally grim, responded instead.

“Should we call this fortunate?”

Tae Yeom-ryong muttered as he pulled out a gourd flask. His movements were swift as light.

Inside was the treasured water from the roots of the Celestial Tree, known to instantly heal internal wounds.

Jeong Yeon-shin had thrown it into Tae Yeom-ryong’s bag earlier, telling him to drink it instead of liquor and stop reeking of alcohol.

“Elder, here.”

Hyeon Won-chang produced a Summoning Pill.

It had been a reward from an old mission.

As someone devoted to Buddhist teachings, the Grand Warrior of Ipwang lacked expertise in martial arts and had been forced to accept it under pressure.

He had kept it all this time, knowing he couldn't refuse his master’s orders.

And now, it would be used.

“Wait... Is this a Hwasan Sect’s Plum Blossom Pill? When did you—?!”

Even Shin So-bin, rummaging through his robes with awkward movements, found a wooden box engraved with plum blossoms.

Ma Yeon-jeok poured all the elixirs into his grandson’s mouth.

Ordinarily, this should never be done.

Secret elixirs required proper methods of consumption.

But Jeongga’s Movement Art cared little for such rules.

Ssshhk.

A hand, smoothened by time, pressed against Jeong Yeon-shin’s heart.

“Wake up.”

On top of the old man’s hand—

a woman’s hand gently overlapped it.

A reaction came immediately.

From Jeong Yeon-shin’s body—

Crrrack—!

A bizarre omen arose.