Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 335: Grandfather and Grandson (8)

Jeong Yeon-shin opened his eyes while lying down.

A faint light seeped through the narrow slit of his slowly lifted eyelids. Even with such a minuscule movement, he felt a distinct difference.

The muscles around his retina were lighter and more elastic than ever.

The scent of grass that had caressed his face faded into the distance. That was how Jeong Yeon-shin perceived the wave of energy that had spread from his entire body.

Even as the effects of his rebirth wracked his body with excruciating pain, his mind remained as calm as a mirror reflecting a still lake.

Amidst the difficulty of sensing his surroundings, there was one presence that provided immense reassurance. A being whose very existence was close to the martial aspirations he held—

Lord Singeom.

Even if the discussion they had was nothing more than a dream, it had been enjoyable.

He liked exchanging words with her. The savior who protected the fruits of the World Tree, the one who stood at the peak of martial arts.

Perhaps because he was now fully aware that his body had changed, he found himself looking forward to the moment he could finally face her directly. He also wanted to proudly display his accomplishment in attaining the pinnacle of mental swordsmanship.

“Yeon-shin.”

A familiar voice gently pushed away the remnants of his dream. It was a warm voice, just like before.

“......”

A large figure stood against the sunlight.

The image imprinted on Jeong Yeon-shin’s retinas quickly took form.

He had not activated Heaven’s Sight, yet the true energy embedded in his eyes reacted instinctively. It left him with a peculiar, slightly awkward sensation.

There were only a few people capable of guiding his extreme Jeong Family Internal Art.

If it wasn’t the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, then it could only be his grandfather. From the moment Jeong Yeon-shin’s breathing changed, the old man must have sensed his grandson regaining consciousness.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.

“...Grandfather.”

His voice was noticeably deeper than before.

He had undoubtedly changed. To achieve the goal he had set for himself before reaching his coming-of-age, he had taken on a body of that age.

A frame tailored to manifest his unique martial arts in an even more refined and powerful form.

Meanwhile, Ma Yeon-jeok’s shoulders quivered slightly as he gazed down at his grandson.

“The old man must have misheard. Who did you just call?”

“There’s still residual drowsiness in my body. I must have caused you concern, Grandfather.”

Jeong Yeon-shin calmly gathered his words and pressed his hands against the ground.

The soil beneath his palms was damp. There had been a significant amount of blood spilled from both him and Mo Yong Jung-rak.

This exhilaration is excessive. It still feels like I’m dreaming.

A strange vortex churned at the top of his Upper Dantian. It felt as if something was on the verge of surging through his entire body.

If he were to describe its nature, it was akin to the divine resonance embedded in Auric Rings.

His flesh, his martial energy—his very essence, the Qi and Vitality within his body—repeatedly merged and separated.

It was divine.

With every cycle of unity and disintegration, the sensation of Yang Guifei permeated his thoughts. He briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to drink alcohol and reach a pleasant state of intoxication.

And then—

Swish.

The tattered sleeve of his robe was gently pulled at the edge.

It was a cautious touch. A mixture of urgency and relief could be felt in the gesture.

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had only lifted his upper body, turned his head. The familiar energy brushing against his skin was unmistakable.

“...Master.”

A girl stood before him, smiling as if on the verge of tears.

It was the same expression she had worn when he had first taken her from the Lord of Ipwang Fortress.

The gracefully honed curves of her shoulders, sculpted through the Boundless Fist Art, were always satisfying to behold. It was as if a precious monkey had begun to take the shape of a person.

And more than anything—

It was through a martial art of his own creation.

Shin So-bin allowed him to experience the sentiment of an elder passing down his legacy to the next generation.

Even if Jeong Yeon-shin were to perish and disappear, she would continue the martial lineage. The more Shin So-bin’s reputation grew, the deeper the mark he would leave upon the world.

“Someday, you will become the Great Sage of the Heavens. How truly beautiful.”

He felt an inexplicable fondness for the successors of Seomye’s Martial Lineage. Perhaps because he had brushed so close to death.

“...The Great... what?”

A small chuckle returned to him.

Shin So-bin’s round eyes settled back into place. The corners of her lips curved slightly upward.

The Great Sage Equal to Heaven of Journey to the West—an entity often interpreted as the embodiment of martial arts itself. It was an exceedingly rare and high form of praise coming from him.

Jeong Yeon-shin had instinctively spoken, cutting off any worries before they could form.

“...Where do I even begin? The Radiant Sword Corps, yes... you truly managed to reach the Radiant Sword Corps... But no, first of all, just look at yourself... Even after seeing it with my own eyes, I can hardly believe it!”

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s sworn comrades stood behind his first disciple, each gazing down at him with different expressions.

Hyeon Won-chang had his eyebrows raised high, openly displaying his relief and admiration, while Tae Yeom-ryong, lost in thought, merely chewed on a poppy leaf.

“Yeon-shin.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

Ma Yeon-jeok, seated casually on the ground, locked eyes with Jeong Yeon-shin. His expression was peculiar.

“Your rebirth was... strange. Originally, I intended to guide your energy circulation using the Jeong Family Internal Art, but your body seized the flow of Grand Circulation on its own. The process wasn’t natural, yet I deemed it best to observe.”

“So that was you, Grandfather.”

“Hmm?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“...In any case, I understand the situation now. Your current body is truly...”

Ma Yeon-jeok trailed off. It was uncharacteristic of him to leave words unfinished. Yet the sharp glint in his fierce eyes, crackling like lightning, remained unchanged.

The formidable energy innate to Ipwang Fortress’s Rogue Lords rippled in response to his thoughts.

Only his grandfather had noticed. The transformation of his grandson’s body—its exact nature.

Could he possibly know what I was thinking even within my mental landscape...?

Jeong Yeon-shin discreetly observed his grandfather. Thick eyebrows, an uncreased forehead—Ma Yeon-jeok’s face gave nothing away.

“All that remains now is to build your achievements.”

His grandfather’s words prompted Jeong Yeon-shin, who had subconsciously been tensing his legs, to swiftly respond.

“Yes, I am grateful, Grandfather.”

“Rest first. Rebirth consumes an immense amount of internal energy and stamina. Look at you—you’ve lost weight. Even if you ate by the bowlful, it wouldn’t be enough. I should go and catch three or four wild boars right away...”

Boom!

The ground trembled.

When Jeong Yeon-shin lifted his head, he saw a streak of pink tearing through the distant sky.

Ma Yeon-jeok had leaped.

One moment, he was offering advice to his grandson, and the next, he had suddenly launched himself into the air.

It was because he had immediately discerned the hunger in Jeong Yeon-shin’s weakened body.

I am quite hungry, but still...

Leaving his grandfather’s antics aside, Jeong Yeon-shin stood up.

His vision felt unfamiliar.

From his vantage point, Shin So-bin’s pitch-black crown was visible beneath him. When he shifted his gaze slightly, even Hyeon Won-chang’s Hero’s Sword was now beneath his horizontal line of sight. His eye level was nearly equal to Tae Yeom-ryong’s.

Bone Renewal. His very skeleton had been reshaped.

Rebirth. His body had been remade.

Among all the experiences he had gained in the martial world, this was the most mystical.

As he lightly clenched his fist, the muscles in his forearm flexed like a living blade.

The sensation was different.

His meridians and muscles felt as if they had been forged from Black Iron.

Rustle.

Shin So-bin, who was the same age as him, straightened her back so stiffly that the hem of her robe brushed against his. Yet even then, she barely reached Jeong Yeon-shin’s chest.

From the side, Tae Yeom-ryong swallowed the poppy leaf in his mouth and smirked.

“This is strange... strange, yet familiar...”

Meanwhile, Hyeon Won-chang awkwardly rubbed his forehead with his palm.

At that moment—

“Lord Ma Gwang-ik.”

A man clad in a black hat—Salhyup, Geum Jon-hwi—approached silently.

He playfully tapped his younger brother, Hyeon Won-chang, on the shoulder before pressing his fists together and bowing toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

“One of my greatest regrets has been resolved today.”

He spoke calmly, yet his words were heavy.

“Until the Mo Yong Family and the Tai’mo Stronghold are eradicated, the blood feud will not be over. But with the Radiant Sword Corps lying in ruins like this... my faction’s movements will be much freer now.”

Casually mentioning the destruction of an entire sect.

Even if their leader had died, such words could not be taken lightly. The Salmun Assassination Sect had long placed hidden figures among renowned martial factions, and their influence was undeniable.

“You’re Hyeon Won-chang’s elder brother, I believe.”

At Jeong Yeon-shin’s remark, Geum Jon-hwi waved his hand dismissively.

“There’s no need for formalities. You’ve performed a miracle today. From now on, the lower you humble yourself, the more difficult it will be for others. If a man who has slain an absolute master acts too modestly, no one will dare find «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» fault in even the slightest arrogance.”

“I’m too used to this to change now.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly.

Even he could feel it—his stance was steadier than ever before.

“Heh.”

Salhyup lifted the brim of his black hat slightly, revealing a face filled with admiration.

“Your conduct is truly noble. A martial artist who may one day become Lord Singeom knows how to follow the proper order.”

“You flatter me.”

“I may have offended you with my actions earlier. I was merely overwhelmed with excitement at reuniting with my younger brother. I ask for your understanding.”

He had intended to bring Hyeon Won-chang into Salmun. This was an apology directed at Lord Ma Gwang-ik.

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Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.

“It is enough if Salmun remains silent about today.”

“Silent? In what sense...? Surely, you don’t mean to hide the death of an absolute master when the Lord of Simmu-ryeon himself has already come and gone? Even for our faction, that would be...”

“Not the outcome of the battle—what happened to me.”

“Ah, Bone Renewal and Rebirth...!”

Geum Jon-hwi nodded deeply.

“The personal information and altered appearance of a high-ranking warrior from Ipwang Fortress would be worth a fortune. The kind of thing those who care little for lives would cling to as their last hope... I understand your meaning. The name Yeonhwa Nata may spread across the world, but no one will recognize you first.”

Jeong Yeon-shin silently bowed and turned away.

He needed to distance himself from his grandfather. The conversations exchanged in his dream with Lord Singeom could not be allowed to manifest into reality.

It was then—

Geum Jon-hwi’s voice carried from behind him.

“There was a battle down in Gojin-ri. The Great Young Lord of Simmu-ryeon was leading an army of martial warriors northward when he clashed with a top-tier master—one said to have red pupils and long black hair. There are rumors that one of the Three Supreme Masters, the Blade Sovereign, was with them. If you wish to avoid trouble, you might want to take note of this...”

Jeong Yeon-shin paused for a moment.

Then, he extended his right hand to the side.

Whooong—

A hum resonated from the corpse of the Mo Yong Clan Head. The cry of a blade.

A sword flew straight toward him, landing perfectly in his grasp. A dazzling white light flowed down its surface. It was Mo Yong Jung-rak’s Meteor Sword.

“That’s right, you can’t forget that! I’ll make sure the scabbard is properly worn in!”

Hyeon Won-chang’s excited voice rang out as he retrieved the scabbard from the waist sash of the Mo Yong Clan Head’s body.

“Master, where are you headed?”

A casually thrown question. It was Tae Yeom-ryong.

Jeong Yeon-shin answered plainly.

“Gojin-ri.”

“...Go on ahead. I need to retrieve my Great Snow Sword first.”

Tae Yeom-ryong said.

Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight nod before setting off.

Behind him, the voices of the Salmun brothers drifted through the twilight, subdued yet clear.

“So this is our farewell. Why was it Ipwang Fortress?”

“My life is like floating duckweed. There was no grand purpose. I simply despised those who tormented others.”

“Even the way you speak has grown distant. You’ve taken quite a liking to Lord Ma Gwang-ik.”

“He is a comrade who has shared life and death with me. It is the same for all of us. Put simply, he is closer to a lord. He bestowed upon us martial arts more precious than our lives...”

“Do you truly have no destiny with Salmun?”

“I have my own goal.”

“...?”

“In a few decades, I want to share a drink with an old man.”

“You mean Lord Ma Gwang-ik.”

“That old man was once a country boy who entered Ipwang Fortress with me in his youth. A boy who knew nothing...”

Hyeon Won-chang spoke slowly.

“He and I will have roamed the martial world together as comrades of the Imperial Rogue Sect, creating martial arts that never existed before, using our sharp tongues to make villains clutch their stomachs in rage, and at times, cutting off their heads. We’ll recall those days, lifting each other up, each with families of our own, bragging about our children... reminiscing... exchanging sips of Bamboo Leaf Green.”

“...So you will never use the surname Geum.”

“I am Hyeon Won.”

“I understand now. There is nothing more to say... I wish you good fortune, Hyeon Won the Great Hero.”

A dramatically formal voice accompanied a deep bow.

Step.

A faint sound came from beside Jeong Yeon-shin as he silently descended the sloping path.

A small, light presence followed him.

She carried the scabbard of the Northern Sea Sword and its shattered blade in her arms.

It was Shin So-bin.

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly became aware that his martial robe pants now barely covered his calves.

He glanced downward.

The hem of his short overcoat was dyed in the colors of the setting sun.

When he lifted his head again, the edge of his sleeve, which now barely reached his wrist, momentarily shimmered with a deep violet hue.