Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 387: Society of Sacred Swords (3)

A vortex of blurred energy spiraled upward, stretching toward the heavens.

Though Phantom Moon had shaped a dome of false sky, it could not reach the real firmament.

And yet, at this moment, the updraft of divine starlight was carving cracks into that illusory ceiling.

KWAKWAKWAKWAKWA—!

At the surface of the swirling storm, the shattered fragments of the Radiant Wheel flickered in and out of existence.

The air resonated with a crushing roar, akin to boulders being ground into dust.

The phantasmal battlefield, once unshakable, was beginning to crack apart.

And within the eye of the storm, trapped, was the Greatest Under Heaven of Sichuan.

Suspended forcibly in midair, her waist-bound gourd had already been shattered beyond recognition.

"This... This is...!"

Her golden-feathered defensive aura was being shredded apart by the relentless cyclone, blood seeping through the gaps of luminous currents.

For years, Ma Gwang-ik had effortlessly walked upon air, utilizing Void-Stepping Technique as naturally as breathing.

Simply being lifted into the sky would not have constrained her movement.

Normally.

[They say the Flower Rain of Sichuan can even trap a Flood Dragon. A mere human would be no different.]

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.

His defensive aura, rooted in Ten Thousand Blossoms, was a storm that followed his intent—its movements seemingly chaotic, yet intricately controlled.

And now, Rising Star’s vortex had integrated the subtle mysteries of the sword, making every shift of the current a deliberate variation in form.

"......!"

Ma Gwang-ik could not counterattack.

She struggled within the gale, but the moment she tried to move a wrist, her entire arm was wrenched away.

When she tried to release internal force from the Yongcheon point of her sole, the sheer weight of the spiraling winds pressed against her legs and thighs, forcing her to lose balance.

It was no longer the same Jeong Yeon-shin she had met in Jinmun, where she had first tested him.

The slicing winds that bent and coiled through the air were now composed of infinite variations—each movement refined by experience gained in this very battle.

"A... A......!"

[Die now.]

The quiet gaze of the Demon Wings Lord locked onto her.

He perceived the subtlest movements of muscles and tendons, sensing the ripple of energy through meridians before she could even react.

A master of anatomy, armed with an intuition beyond mortal senses.

Equalized strength.

Neutralized internal energy supremacy.

Refined counterforce through shattered remnants of defensive energy.

All of it woven into the Celestial Dragon Harmony, manipulating every fragment of radiance.

Throughout this battle, he had thoroughly unraveled her techniques.

Ma Gwang-ik’s combat style was built on close-quarters grappling and overwhelming internal force—even Phantom Moon was designed to enhance her martial prowess at short range.

She had already fallen prey to his swordplay once before, at the very beginning of this confrontation.

Now, with Ten Thousand Blossoms fully realized, she and the Flood Dragon it was designed to hunt were one and the same.

A bird cannot escape a storm.

There was no defense.

SCREEEEEECH—!

Her scream was not merely human—it was a cry akin to a falcon's, reverberating across the battlefield.

She was not shouting with her voice—she was screaming with her entire being.

Jeong Yeon-shin stood still, maintaining Rising Star’s radiance.

‘Just a little longer.’

The burning sensation in his Upper Dantian was proof that Rising Star was a technique that could overpower even a transcendent martial artist.

Dizziness meant nothing.

Even though Ma Gwang-ik blurred into multiple images, his mind held firm.

And then—

The semi-transparent vortex let out a thunderous crack, as the Phantom Moon’s heavens finally fractured apart.

A storm of hundreds of slicing winds unraveled, dispersing dust across the battlefield.

SHAAAAAAA—

The gentle glow of starlight returned to ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) Jeong Yeon-shin’s body.

He briefly lowered his gaze.

The scattered fragments of light converged once more at his heart, restoring the Radiant Wheel.

Its power was spent, yet his breathing steadied.

A few moments of cultivation would be enough.

‘Defeating the Greatest Under Heaven of Sichuan... it was not as costly as I expected.’

His vision cleared, and there she was—a ragged figure, barely clinging to life.

Ma Gwang-ik lay crumpled in the dust, her once-pristine robes reduced to tatters.

Between the shredded fabric, there was no unbroken flesh—only a gleaming crimson sheen of blood-soaked skin.

A pool of dark red spread beneath her, seeping into the parched earth.

Haa......

A faint breath escaped her lips.

Despite everything, her internal breathing technique remained active, generating the feeble pulse of lingering energy.

Jeong Yeon-shin briefly recalled the Lord of Ten Gates—the man who had cheated death multiple times, even against him and the Lord of Bloodflame Sect.

True transcendent martial artists were remarkably resilient, rivaling even the long-lived aristocrats of the Bloodflame Sect.

‘The head.’

STEP.

He took a measured step forward, his body stabilizing as Pure Guidance Internal Technique regulated his energy flow.

The sound of ragged breathing grew closer.

Ma Gwang-ik’s body shuddered.

"Don’t... come any closer..."

He did not reply.

As he stepped into striking range, the dust at his feet scattered outward.

At that very moment, the natural energy that had been flowing toward her nose suddenly stopped.

A step that severed momentum.

Floating Wing Step.

Her golden eyes trembled.

"Footwork... can stop internal breathing...?"

"I expected to complete Eight Steps by fighting you."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke casually.

Reversing her counters had been thrilling, but his footwork had not progressed as much as he had hoped.

It was a minor regret.

The future held more opportunities—and once he left this battlefield, he would inevitably become a storm that swept across all of Jianghu.

Countless transcendent martial artists would challenge him.

"At least I was able to refine Rising Star. Wasn’t my defensive aura rather impressive?"

"That wasn’t... just a defensive aura..."

She was a defeated warrior, yet she spoke firmly.

Jeong Yeon-shin only said what he needed to say.

"With all the power expended at Cloudveil Peak, the remnants of Sichuan’s demonic sects should be depleted. The influence of the Everfrost Order and the Fallen Sword Sect will be limited beyond their own territories."

"I... don’t know..."

Her cracked lips moved, and she slowly raised her head, meeting his gaze.

"How... did you do it?"

Finally.

The Greatest Under Heaven of Sichuan, who once looked down upon the world, had turned her full attention to Jeong Yeon-shin.

The hungry, obsessed gaze of a true martial fanatic—the kind that only transcendent warriors possessed.

“What?”

“That technique just now... it wasn’t just Ten Thousand Blossoms. The dispersal formula, force aura, sword projection, each fragment with a different form... No human mind should be able to process all that at once. Did Wudang teach you Dual Mind Synchronization to hunt me down...?”

Dual Mind Synchronization, a transcendent martial art of the Wudang Sect, allowed one’s consciousness to split into multiple threads, processing different battle flows simultaneously.

Jeong Yeon-shin had considered the concept once before.

If he could simultaneously trigger the Final Thunderclap—which discharged all his energy at once—and Celestial Dragon Harmony, would he be able to push his limits even further?

Wuuung—

While intensifying the Grand Circulation of his Pure Guidance Internal Technique, stabilizing his body, he shook his head briefly.

"I simply layered the mysteries of swordplay onto my defensive aura and treated it as a martial art of its own. The concept wasn’t difficult to grasp."

“...That’s just wordplay.”

"They say transcendent masters unleash all the techniques they’ve cultivated in a single life-or-death moment. Your Phantom Moon broke its boundaries and broadened my insight."

He had merged two independent martial arts.

As he idly traced the hilt of Thunderclap, Jeong Yeon-shin thought, Now that I have a grasp on it, I can go even further.

The golden hue in Ma Gwang-ik’s eyes dimmed.

“...It’s different. Phantom Moon isn’t a technique—it’s an impression. Even if you breathe through your upper dantian, you shouldn’t be able to...”

"Is breathing so difficult?"

“......”

In the sudden stillness, Jeong Yeon-shin refined his realization.

Ma Gwang-ik was acknowledged as the Greatest Under Heaven of Sichuan.

Even in what seemed like casual exchanges, there were insights and revelations hidden in her words.

She had a way of reaffirming things he already knew, making them feel newly profound.

Even her view on Phantom Moon was worth engraving into memory.

‘Not a technique, but an impression...’

Jeong Yeon-shin tightened his grip on his sword.

"Earlier, you said you were heading for the world beyond. I’ve heard you don’t move unless it concerns mystical beings. Where were you thinking?"

"The southernmost land."

"The Imoogi of Haenam has already been slain by my patriarch."

Jeong Yeon-shin recalled his maternal grandfather’s face. He had heard the story in passing while discussing the affairs of the transcendents.

Perhaps she was familiar with the former leader of the Divine Sword Corps, because Ma Gwang-ik flipped her response as easily as turning her palm.

"Then the west."

"Why?"

"It’s my homeland. A place of beautiful mountains."

She spoke lightly.

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded slowly.

"See it after death."

There was no reply.

The moment his Phantom Step disrupted her energy circulation, it was over.

She had borne the full force of Celestial Starshine and failed to recover from the grievous internal wounds.

Ma Gwang-ik’s complexion paled. Death was closing in fast.

Jeong Yeon-shin asked,

"Why were you so obsessed with the Flood Dragon that you destroyed innocent lives and disrupted the people’s peace?"

"Because it was my heavenly mandate."

The moment she spoke of divine will—

Hwaaak—!

A sudden burst of golden radiance spread from her body, spilling out toward Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet.

For a fleeting moment, the massive form of a golden bird shimmered above her before fading away.

"Humans cling to their names... They crave recognition from those who come after them..."

Her words came softly.

The usual dry mischief she displayed after a drink lingered in her golden eyes.

"But some want to return to the heavens without leaving even a trace of their presence. They don’t want to be tainted by your hands."

A miraculous sight unfolded.

Her body began dissolving into golden light, fading rapidly.

A gentle breeze stirred the hem of Jeong Yeon-shin’s robes, carrying with it a faint ripple of energy.

Was she truly human?

Or had she been a supernatural entity all along?

The mystical beings of the world rarely left remains, for even their corpses became objects of human greed.

"I am not dying in defeat. I am transcending the mortal realm—"

Boom!

Suddenly, a colorless shockwave slammed downward.

"......!"

A forceful impact shattered the golden glow, suppressing Ma Gwang-ik mid-ascension.

Her body became clear again, the golden radiance completely extinguished.

Jeong Yeon-shin brushed off his hands and re-adjusted his sword stance.

"Even after I’ve disrupted your techniques once, you still try these useless tricks."

Since arriving in Sichuan, he had encountered many martial arts incorporating sorcery.

By now, if the casting time wasn’t instantaneous, he could seal it with a single shockwave.

It was time to end this journey through Jianghu.

"Die now."

The Divine Sword, Thunderclap, flared into a streak of lethal light.

The blade slashed down from above, severing Ma Gwang-ik’s neck with a dull yet decisive strike.

Her head rolled to the ground, an expression of utter shock frozen on her face.

At the same time, cracks spread through the space above.

The domain of Phantom Moon collapsed, revealing the vast night sky.

Jeong Yeon-shin closed his eyes.

He had scattered the residual shockwaves of Ma Gwang-ik’s techniques using Pure Guidance Internal Energy, allowing himself a brief moment to restore his reserves.

The battle outside was still raging.

With the collapse of Phantom Moon, the essence of the Flood Dragon, which had nestled in his heart, was now vanishing.

‘I must remember the sensation of this perfected divine power.’

As he imprinted the feeling of his Auric Wheel into his mind, he turned his thoughts to his comrades.

The battlefield was filled with elite warriors of the Great Factions.

Each one was far stronger than an ordinary rogue martial artist, and there were hundreds of them.

No matter how skilled they were, they would have to wager their lives to stand against such overwhelming forces.

‘And I have yet to fully heal from my wounds...’

Slaying Sichuan’s Greatest Master had come at a steep price.

His injuries—internal and external—were severe.

His meridians were ruptured, his bones fractured, and his muscles torn.

The circulation technique he had triggered was nothing more than a temporary patch.

He had no elixirs left.

The Monk’s Purification Pill from Shaolin was gone.

The Heavenly Rebirth Elixir from the Celestial Pagoda had already been used during his Body Reformation.

Even the mystic medicine allocated to the leaders of his sect had been destroyed by Ma Gwang-ik’s earlier attack.

Saaa—

The night sky grew broader.

Standing motionless, Jeong Yeon-shin contemplated his remaining techniques.

He could no longer use Thunderclap Lightning Ridge or Floral Void Palm—

Any technique that rebounded energy or consumed excessive internal force was too dangerous.

‘I’ll use Hundred Strikes with one hand and supplement it with swordplay.’

Just as the thought settled—

Slowly—

The curved space of Phantom Moon fully dispersed.

The expansive night sky unfolded.

The mountain air was thick with the scent of blood-soaked grass.

Beneath the twinkling starlight—

A field of corpses lay before him.

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Broken weapons were scattered across the land, impaled into the ground like gravestones.

Several massive craters marred the terrain, remnants of powerful wide-range techniques that had shattered the battlefield.

The stench of pooled blood was overpowering.

It was a night of eerie silence.

Among the countless lifeless bodies, a handful of silhouettes stirred.

Some turned their heads, others struggled to rise.

Under the soft glow of the stars, their jet-black robes shimmered faintly.

"......."

Jeong Yeon-shin silently locked eyes with them.

At his feet lay the severed corpse of the Leader of the Golden Dawn Sect