Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 394: Hidden in the Shadows (3)

The air vibrated with multiple shockwaves.

Whoooosh—

The arrow, darkened by an unknown presence, trembled violently beneath the pressure. It couldn’t move forward despite the weight pressing down from above.

A wave of energy rippled outward, spreading in a dark ring.

It was a strange occurrence.

The dark archery master, So Jeon-ju, had released the arrow only after accurately sensing the enemy’s presence just moments before the intrusion.

The Sungwang Arrow Technique was a traditional martial art that forbade shortcuts, and it was not to be confused with the martial arts of less disciplined sects.

It was a martial art based on patience. Releasing an arrow required great precision, a delicate and intricate skill.

‘How did they move...?’ So Jeon-ju’s eyes scanned the intruder, trying to grasp the truth of the situation.

Not only had the point of impact been anticipated, but even the precise moment of impact had been foreseen.

The arrow wasn’t lodged in the body or the legs, but it rested just beneath the feet—this was evidence of the intruder’s ability to harmonize their energy, which seemed to manipulate the very moment of action.

Had their movement altered the course of time itself?

So Jeon-ju shook his head inwardly. The figure before him wasn’t a martial master from Shaolin or the head of the Celestial Gate.

He could tell from his experiences watching those who became revered in their youth through martial prowess. In terms of age, this intruder was far less experienced.

At that moment...

The arrow, still gripped by the young man in midair, jolted violently. It then slowly tilted vertically, and with a sharp crack, it pierced the marble floor below.

Boom!

The fletching of the arrow quivered with the force of the impact.

The prince of the faded clan instinctively understood. The intruder had momentarily trapped the arrow beneath their energy, savoring the flow of the bow's power.

It felt as though the intruder had studied every nuance of the arrow’s construction with a refined sense of awareness.

What conclusion had the intruder drawn?

A strange chill ran down So Jeon-ju’s spine. Slowly, he spoke.

“There’s no need for formalities before an impending disaster.”

“......”

The young man, who had silently descended, glanced around without responding.

The sunlight that had filtered through the swirling dust brushed across his face, creating an almost dreamlike effect. His movements seemed to blur the lines between dream and reality.

So Jeon-ju fell silent for a moment. This wasn’t the appearance he had imagined before releasing his arrow.

At that moment...

A subordinate, who had been reloading his bow, shouted sharply.

“Do you even know the meaning of safety?! No matter how hostile a sect may be, this isn’t the way to behave! Are you aware that you’re nothing but an insolent rogue...?!”

The Shadow Night Sect is a powerful faction devoted to a righteous cause. So Jeon-ju’s right-hand man was as loyal as any servant to the royal bloodline.

They must be skilled in both martial arts and diplomacy. As such, their words carried the weight of authority, a skill refined to provoke thought in those who heard it.

The subordinate had, in that moment, bought So Jeon-ju enough time to reload the bow once more.

As soon as the words were spoken, the subordinate turned to So Jeon-ju with a gesture.

Whoosh—

So Jeon-ju’s bowstring snapped. The wind was a sharp gust that emanated from the intruder’s finger. His subordinate could only watch in stunned silence as splinters of wood flew into the air.

It was a terrifying display of self-assurance. There was no hesitation in the intruder’s movements, a sign of utter confidence in their own abilities.

Whether the intruder recognized his own unrefined nature or saw himself as invincible didn’t matter.

‘This technique won’t work on him...!’

The wind that shattered the bow was like a flash of light. The gap in speed was insurmountable, even for someone skilled in internal martial arts.

So Jeon-ju shook his head, gesturing toward his subordinate.

“There’s a rare and exceptional skill in play here. He’s already noticed our movements. Don’t act rashly.”

“That fast?”

The figure observing from the side spoke, his lips parting.

“Is that... the Ghost Hawk?”

The bird perched on So Jeon-ju’s shoulder fluttered its wings slightly, scattering a few gray feathers in all directions.

It resembled a small hawk. Only the feathers, their shade, differed.

“Ah,” So Jeon-ju murmured, the faintest of smiles touching his lips.

“So this was the goal.”

“He’s said to use the bird to send letters to the Shadow Night Sect,” the young man explained, his gaze sharp and transparent.

So Jeon-ju met his gaze, feeling a sense of reluctance. He knew well the nature of his own energy—it would be impossible to deceive this observer.

‘The use of the sword... it’s like something I’ve seen before...’

The breadth of his opponent’s strike was incomprehensible, as though it could extend well beyond the length of the Great Sage’s hand.

He had seen something similar in the peerless swordmasters of his youth, those with swords capable of severing entire mountains, and who wielded impossible skills like Heaven’s Edge and Crouching Earth Technique.

So Jeon-ju’s martial achievements were among the highest for his age group, but now, they felt irrelevant.

He felt as though, if he were to strike, his own neck would be severed first—his opponent’s reach exceeded any measure he had.

At last, the prince of the fading clan opened his mouth.

“Who are you?”

“I am Ma Gwang-ik of Ipwang Fortress.”

The young man spoke slowly. So Jeon-ju’s eyes widened, though his expression remained stoic.

“Your skill surpasses rumors. Your presence and demeanor are as impressive as they say.”

“The mastery of your technique is profound.”

“It’s odd to hear compliments from someone so lowly. You must have come to claim the Ghost Hawk, correct? Will you leave it if I hand it over peacefully?”

So Jeon-ju asked, and in the same moment, his subordinate turned to him with a sharp, questioning glance.

The Ghost Hawk was an invaluable asset to the Shadow Night Sect. It was not just a rare creature—it was sacred, bound to the sect’s direct line of succession.

Only those who had mastered the unique martial arts and noble bloodlines could command the hawk, and it would always find its way to its master, no matter where they were.

It could not be compared to the messenger birds, which often ended up lost or eaten by predators.

“The damage to your sect is extensive. Even now, the tremors of battle shake the earth. Though we’ve spared the trees, we can’t say the same for the fields.”

So Jeon-ju spoke softly, his subordinate lowering his head in shame.

“You’re mistaken,” the young man replied, cutting through the moment. He could sense the presence of the magic binding the hawk to So Jeon-ju’s life force.

So Jeon-ju felt a chill, as if the poisonous nature of this power was rising, ready to strike.

"Misunderstanding?" So Jeon-ju echoed.

“You are traitors who have stolen from your people. Even if you escape execution here, you won’t avoid your capture."

The young man spoke calmly. He had seen too much suffering to be moved by the royal lineage’s grievances.

The famine that had stricken the land was no natural disaster—it had been orchestrated by powerful factions, thriving off the suffering of the masses. The Shadow Night Sect had done the same.

“Now, I ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) begin to feel the weight of this. The Ipwang Fortress has arrived,” he added.

So Jeon-ju slowly ran his fingers over the broken bowstring.

A deafening rumble reverberated through the area.

A great disturbance had arrived.

The twelve Black Pillars and the swordsman before him—he stood firm, imposing and relentless.

The young man’s expression was neutral as he demanded the surrender of So Jeon-ju. The pressure was unbearable.

So Jeon-ju, finally, let the shattered bow fall to the ground with a decisive clink.

“First, allow me to retreat.”

***

The rumors spread like a storm.

The Unhui Peak Tournament held in Sacheon had caused a significant upheaval. The consequences of the battle's content and result were immense. Some individuals became so well-known that they quickly became targets of the martial world.

Seomye and Mu-maek were prime examples.

“It’s all over! It’s too late!”

The girl in the white martial uniform shouted bitterly. Her long braid swayed atop a horse.

It was Baek Mi-ryeo.

Ahead of them, Hyeon Won-chang, dressed in a blue hero’s garb, shook his head as he led the way.

“Master’s lightness technique is too fast to compare. It’s nothing like our slow horses.”

“It’s because of the cheap blues and whites that are holding us back,” a man, lazily draped in a blue cloak, sneered. It was Ma Gwang-ik, the Tae Yeom-ryong, his eyes casting faint shadows beneath them.

Baek Mi-ryeo’s eyes sharpened.

“What did you say?”

“Thanks to your remarkable lightness skills, Master’s technique doesn't fall behind when compared to yours. If we started first, we would have arrived much earlier.”

“Are you saying that speed alone matters?”

“Your tongue is too long for a mere subordinate.”

“In the end, the first to meet with Master would have been me, wouldn’t it? A drunkard and a playboy can’t compete with Seomye Mu-maek’s most devoted disciple, who acts with such discipline.”

“Disciple, huh...? Did you join the Yeongang Sect?”

“No interest in the peripheral martial arts.”

“You speak like a flowing stream. Here lies the future Great Sword Master.”

Hyeon Won-chang smiled slightly, not intervening. Jeong Yeon-shin's martial arts were about mastering short intervals, a unique five-position technique.

Whether the immature playboys or drunken nobles spoke, the one capable of using Great Technique was already decided.

“I wonder if news of Master’s arrival has reached the main sect. We’ve been on the move for nearly a week now, and it’s about time a storm hits Yangyang...”

“I wish I could split myself in two.”

“Why?”

“I need to see the Old Sect Leader’s face. I still can’t quite believe it...”

“The main sect must be having heated debates right now. The Black Star Sect may have given us some satisfaction, but it’s certainly a crazy move.”

Their journey never slowed, though occasionally, their pace would falter. Increasing numbers of masters with sharp senses and keen judgment would challenge their path.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Ipwang Fortress, Ma Gwang-ik?”

“And so?”

“Looking at his appearance, he must be a reckless man from the Hwangbo Sect. You, however, have no business here, so step aside.”

“What?”

“Someone who learned Seomye Mu-maek’s technique, step forward. I want to see the martial art that defeated the Phoenix of Jin with my own eyes.”

Even now, the same scene was playing out.

Tae Yeom-ryong’s eyes narrowed into faint arcs. The dark shade under his eyes deepened, making it seem like he could collapse onto the ground at any moment.

In contrast, a fiery energy surged from his body, causing his clothes to flutter like a blazing fire.

“...I had no right. I’ve made a mistake.”

The swordsman, who had concealed his face with a bamboo hat, took his stance and retreated.

This had happened many times before.

The vast lands were filled with all kinds of figures. Even if they were knowledgeable of rumors, few truly understood their own place.

It was partly due to the trio forming the One-man Alliance. Ma Gwang-ik’s mid-tier masters, including Cheongmyeong and Baek Mi-ryeo, suddenly received a letter from the Censor's Bureau and headed north to Beijing.

This was after confirming Jeong Yeon-shin’s safety.

Baek Mi-ryeo furrowed her brows.

“What if we catch up and show them what’s what? This isn’t the first time.”

“Do you think you’ll handle it?”

A strange voice entered the conversation seamlessly.

“......!”

The group quickly raised their heads.

A handsome man with a bold presence sat casually on a branch, exuding no sense of energy.

Any martial master with experience could guess his identity. It was the realm of Fang Zhi, the Ghostly Tiger.

Baek Mi-ryeo and Hyeon Won-chang’s faces shifted with surprise—not because of his difficult-to-read realm, but because his face was remarkably similar to Tae Yeom-ryong’s.

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The man smiled.

“I owe Ma Gwang-ik a great debt for the Dragon’s Dance technique. Now I see he’s trained even his juniors. Truly impressive.”

“...Who are you?”

Tae Yeom-ryong asked, his voice somewhat empty.

“I came to deliver a message to Master, but it seems I’ve come to the wrong place.”

It was Hwangbo Gon, the King of Divine Beasts, the figure known for his unmatched martial prowess.

***

The Shadow Night Sect’s headquarters.

Ma Gwang-ik, the Great Master, decided to stay in the gray forest. He had ordered those without martial skills to be tied up and sent to the Censor's Bureau.

This wasn’t the end.

Many martial artists were sent to evacuate the common people of the Faded Clan. They headed in the opposite direction of the entrance.

Likewise, they were blocked by a mysterious formation. The grandmasters of the Great Sects endured repeated assaults from the Sungwang Sect.

“Seomye, do you want to try breaking through? It’s just a matter of time, really.”

“I’ll first sever the connection between Ghost Hawk and So Jeon-ju. The safety of our Sect Leader is my priority.”

“I’ll turn back and try first.”

Amidst this, So Jeon-ju remained silent. With his eyes slightly closed, he withstood the pressure of Tae Yeom-ryong’s oppressive presence.

Jeong Yeon-shin asked, already knowing the answer.

“Why go this far?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

So Jeon-ju muttered calmly.

They stood in the forest outside the residence.

Whoooosh—

Suddenly, the sky seemed to split apart. Sunlight poured in from both sides, and the formation at the rear was completely torn apart.

“It seems this is the Shadow Night Sect after all.”

“It seems so.”

It was the voice of an older woman, followed by the voice of a young man.

Their figures appeared from the sunlight, their long hanbok and dobok fluttering in the wind.

They were the most revered figures in the martial world.

A powerful aura enveloped the air, causing some of the Black Star Sect members to widen their eyes.

“I was waiting for your recovery, but I didn’t expect you to leave so soon...”

“We’ve considered the Black Star Sect’s contributions in the Unhui Peak Tournament. You, the true successor of the Hwasan School, are truly remarkable.”

Ami and Cheongseong, the heads of the old factions, descended in front of Jeong Yeon-shin.