Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 345: Late but Arriving First (1)

Even if one is late in moving out, they can still arrive first.

Earlier, Jeong Yeon-shin had placed his hands and feet into the three streams of energy released by Bukgung Ah, using them to propel himself in his own unique path—an unconventional way of channeling energy.

In an instant, he calculated his movements.

Moving his body while visualizing the trajectory was not difficult for him, much like when he once followed the Grand Monk Wonjeok’s path, using the Golden Buddha Immovable Technique’s channel.

Now, however, Jeong Yeon-shin’s Hwanikbo carried a different energy.

It was no longer just about accelerating his body using the force of the energy or releasing power waves through his walking technique.

He now infused his steps with an incredibly potent intent, shortening the time it took for his advancing steps with extreme precision.

The method he had executed was akin to the profound skills achieved through centuries of immersion in both Taoist and Buddhist martial arts, an almost mystical application of martial prowess.

Each of his five steps was peculiarly fast and free.

“Bukgung Ah is indeed impressive,” he thought.

He felt a slight difference, perhaps the size of a single step. In the brief moment when he had loosened her hair tie, removing her outer robe by force, he had even left her waist unprotected. If this were real combat, he would have dealt a significant wound to her—right after killing Bukgung Ah.

Swish.

Jeong Yeon-shin grasped her hair tie and black robe with both hands, lifting them in unison.

The tie felt smooth, as though it were brand new, gently brushing against the sides of his skin, while the black robe, worn from withstanding countless battles, had a coarser texture.

The sensation was peculiar.

His older brothers, Jeong Nam and Jeong Jung, sometimes used to show off trinkets or mock swords they had stolen from the children of the warrior families across the river, boasting about how the villagers would try to take them back.

It was a playful game for the children of the wealthy landowners in the Shin Ya-hyeon region.

Whenever such games of capture took place, Jeong Yeon-shin would gaze over the village walls, watching the children chasing each other with a detached interest.

“I only saw it from afar.”

He thought to himself, finding it rather amusing.

"......"

Only the faint sound of rocks rolling could be heard in the sparring arena.

The audience, holding their breath, revealed expressions of shock and confusion.

The fact that Ma Gwang-ik lost his sword was nothing.

After all, the most famous martial technique of Seomye Jeong Yeon-shin was his Hwan-gang, not the swordplay. Even the name of his "Sword-wave Roaring Peaks" had not surpassed the one given by Cheonggirin.

But the black robe held by Jeong Yeon-shin was disturbingly intact. He had removed it without tearing a single fabric.

This was something hard to believe. He had struck at three fatal points—her neck, her arms, and her waist—all in a single blow.

To anyone who had seen the true nature of the combat, the meaning behind the fluttering robe and hair tie in his hand would be enough to send chills down anyone's spine.

"You... this...!"

Bukgung Ah, now wearing only a thin black martial outfit, stood frozen, holding Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword, her eyes wide in bewilderment.

Thud.

From one side, Great Lord Myeongryu, who had been watching them, moved. His bandaged body brushed against the ground with his black robe, and in the blink of an eye, he was right beside Jeong Yeon-shin, his shadow stretching ominously from his feet.

The presence was undetectable.

It was the domain of elevation. A martial technique so close to sorcery, it resembled a bodyguard technique. His palm, wrapped in bandages, reached forward silently.

There was no trace of the power of the Rising Step. His movement seemed as if it was etched into the space around him.

His technique had the air of a deadly assassination. Even though they were in broad daylight and surrounded by many onlookers.

“This was a skirmish disguised as a contest,” Jeong Yeon-shin thought.

He twisted the energy at the Yongcheon point of his foot, pushing the energy into his heel.

Once again, the Hwanikbo activated, and his body spun effortlessly to face Great Lord Myeongryu. His shoulder was just inches away from being torn apart by Myeongryu’s technique.

As soon as he raised his left hand, a faint glow emerged from his palm, colliding with Great Lord Myeongryu's palm and dissipating into the air, another late arrival in the contest.

The Golden Wheel-like aura of Jeong Yeon-shin’s technique shattered Great Lord Myeongryu’s energy, grinding it into nothing, a sensation that was intensely violent and destructive.

From the spectator stands, a refined energy made a sudden move, as if concerned for the well-being of those nearby. Jeong Yeon-shin, even as he moved, could feel the nature of the warrior, Jin Myeong-jo, and had learned from him.

But their contact had been brief. Before a full breath had passed, Great Lord Myeongryu had stepped back.

Hoo—

The muffled sound of his breath came from beneath the cloth wrapped around his face. Great Lord Myeongryu gazed at Jeong Yeon-shin for a while, then silently turned and left the sparring arena.

"......"

Silence deepened in the arena.

"Lord of Yeouicheon! Is that sword the one from the Mo Yong family?!"

A loud voice rang out, projecting power that reached across the crowd. All eyes turned to the Grand General, Im Jin-myeong, and then quickly to Lord of Yeouicheon.

Great Lord Myeongryu, still gazing at the sword, slightly nodded.

She stared suspiciously at Jeong Yeon-shin, who stood higher than her.

"How did you get the Meteor Sword?"

"Ma Gwang-ik’s victory in taking the head of the Seonghui Great Sword King! It’s a trophy! Return it immediately!"

This was a critical moment to boost the morale of the Ipwang Fortress warriors, who were in a dire situation.

The Grand General shouted again, his words cutting through the air. His chin was surrounded by a hazy aura of internal power.

"Ma Gwang-ik Jeong Yeon-shin has claimed the head of the Mo Yong family’s patriarch! He killed the Eight Guard Master alone! As the victor of this contest, he should be free to choose his next mission! No one can question his decision!"

The application of the Ninefold Arts was extraordinary. By turning his inner energy into pure power, it brought the future of Ma Gwang-ik’s Great Sword closer than ever.

A ripple of reaction spread.

Beneath the sparring arena, the martial artists of the faction stirred restlessly. It was the forewarning of chaos.

Officials and guild members, who had been listening in from beyond the fence, quickly scattered in all directions.

The sensation in the air was so intense that it could be felt without focusing. The tension was overwhelming.

Even the spectator stands felt the same way.

With a sudden leap, Ak Su-rim looked at Jeong Yeon-shin with wide eyes, bombarding him with questions, while Lord of Yeouicheon handed the Meteor Sword back with an expression that suggested he had much to say.

“How many steps was it?”

“Five steps.”

Ah.

With a short sigh, Bukgung Ah slowly parted her lips, her demeanor far more subdued than usual.

“There are still two more rounds to go... but the Grand General is certainly making a fuss. I thought I would be the one after Yongga.”

Jeong Yeon-shin gave a brief bow and sheathed his sword. Bukgung Ah was right. This meeting of the Great Lords was exceptionally competitive.

The six black-clad warriors were to split into pairs of three, each group battling until two emerged victorious, who would then face off for the final winner.

Just then, Jin Myeong-jo suddenly stood up, declaring that it was a waste of time. He wasn’t participating in the contest and would leave the decision to Ma Gwang-ik, the Great Lord.

Wrapped entirely in black robes like a noble bat, he glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin before lowering his gaze to the Grand General.

“Having witnessed a truly deserving act of merit, I find myself unwilling to move. I shall return.”

Amidst the chatter, Ma Gwang-ik, who had been enduring Ak Su-rim’s chatter, lifted his head.

Such nobility was something he had never seen in his life. With a slight nod of acknowledgment, Great Lord Bo Hyeol leapt into the air and disappeared across the sky.

Ak Su-rim’s incessant chatter lingered faintly at the ends of his robes.

“I won’t do it either. How can I manage that step? Unless my condition and luck are at their best today...”

***

Jeong Yeon-shin avoided the countless strikes from the martial artists of his faction and returned to Great Lord Ma Gwang-ik's chambers.

All the rewards were exchanged for Golden Needle Medicine and Essence Pills. His energy reserves had now reached a point where they could no longer be increased through the usual supply channels.

The distribution of rewards was entrusted to Baek Mi-ryeo and Cheongmyeong.

“Lord Mo Yong...,”

“Look at this list. This would be more than enough to supply the white-clad warriors. We could fill dozens of bags.”

Cheongmyeong smiled as he spoke. The reason being that Ma Gwang-ik’s stores, once drained by his previous defeats, were now overflowing.

“Please set aside my share separately. Right now, I’ve been tasked with a mission that will take me from Sacheon to Shingang. I plan to depart first.”

It had been quite some time since Suncheon Lord, Heavenly Sage, and Seonmok Sovereign had set out for Shingang. With even the condensed ceremony now complete, there was no reason to delay any further.

―The reports indicated that the leader of the Bloodflame Cult met with the chief of the Golden Seal Sect in Sacheon. They are likely planning to take the Dragon's Inner Circle to enhance their martial abilities once again.

This was the Grand General’s report.

Jeong Yeon-shin planned to make this his last mission before proposing a promotion to the Lord of Ipwang Fortress. By then, she would likely have returned to her homeland.

There was much to do.

Once back in his ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) office, Jeong Yeon-shin quickly attended to the remaining duties. Amid his busy schedule, he couldn’t help but think of his uncle Ma Jin, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.

―Your handwriting is quite fluent, so I’m sure you’ll have no problem writing the letters.

His uncle’s words rang true.

He swiftly distributed tasks to his comrades, sent out supply requests to the Grand Commandant’s Office, and reviewed the progress of his allies' Extreme Mastery Techniques, all without issue.

As for the Extreme Mastery Techniques, there were no questions, likely due to the meticulously written secret manual. This brought him great satisfaction. Ma Gwang-ik, though slow, continued to grow stronger.

“I’ll go ahead. Be careful and follow me.”

The only one capable of matching his speed was Tae Yeom-ryong, whose immense energy reserves allowed him to almost keep up. However, due to the increasingly perilous martial world, it was wiser to travel together under the command of Great Lord Ma Gwang-ik.

The era of famine and plunder had arrived. The entire martial world was now an enemy to Ipwang Fortress.

Once Jeong Yeon-shin had arranged the ranks for the rear division, which included Baek Mi-ryeo, he left the chambers.

Strange mists had begun to rise in regions like Sacheon, Cheonghae, and Shingang.

Among these, Cheonghae and Shingang were outside the country’s borders, meaning the search area was vast.

It was said that a few high-ranking figures would scatter to conduct the search. According to the Grand General, a couple more would be joining.

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As the victor of the contest, Jeong Yeon-shin had recommended Great Lord Bo Hyeol and the Lord of Yeouicheon for active participation.

Having proven his martial prowess by eliminating Lord Mo Yong, Jeong Yeon-shin had been assigned the task of overseeing the well-being of his comrades in the rear, a responsibility best suited to those of impeccable character.

While the Grand General had a slightly disapproving expression, Bukgung Ah watched Jeong Yeon-shin with an intrigued look, though she didn’t show much resistance.

“Lord... Yeon-shin, are we going to keep traveling together like this?”

“As long as your inner demon’s condition isn’t healed.”

“What if it never heals?”

Wearing a broad white robe with black hair that cascaded like ebony, a beautiful blind woman walked beside Jeong Yeon-shin. Her striking features naturally attracted the attention of those around her, and as they walked, they eventually reached the main gates of their homeland.

“That’s it, right there.”

A voice suddenly rang out.

A middle-aged woman standing in the middle of the wide gates pointed at the Seventh Apostle. One sleeve of her elegant black robe hung limply like a withered branch.

Her fair face bore a mix of venom and elegance. Once, her gaze had seemed to look down upon the entire world, but now it seemed almost insignificant when directed at Jeong Yeon-shin.

“That lowborn creature dared to commit such an atrocity against me, someone who bears the blood of the celestial lineage? How dare they act so recklessly in their homeland...”

A distant branch of the imperial family—Jeong Yeon-shin’s maternal aunt.

The man standing beside her was the Lord of the Sword. He smiled at Jeong Yeon-shin but furrowed his brow as he listened to her.

“Are you referring to the esteemed figure by the side of the next Lord of the Sword?”

“Esteemed figure...?”

“Of course, they must be someone important. No one close to a hero would be an ordinary person.”

As Jeong Yeon-shin approached, he noticed the sudden shift in Jeong Yeon-shin’s maternal aunt’s expression. She stiffened at the sight of him.

But Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t acknowledge her. He simply exchanged a gesture with the Lord of the Sword, while his aunt’s faction revealed their true nature, showing no filters in their behavior.

The Lord of the Sword smiled warmly and wished Jeong Yeon-shin well.

“I’ll see you at the Imperial Palace next time. Good luck to you.”

Those selected as candidates for the Purple Medal were to face the Emperor in front of the entire court. His words were a final, gracious farewell.

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded briefly before passing them by, his steps radiating an enormous presence. It was almost overwhelming for his aunt.

The oppressive force he exerted made her silent, and for a moment, she was reminded of the Great Lord Ma Gwang-ik’s presence.

―There are many with the surname Jeong in the world.

With a sly smile, the Seventh Apostle poked Jeong Yeon-shin’s maternal aunt in the shoulder with a long finger before moving on.

***

From Ho Gwang Province to Sacheon Province.

Many days passed.

Now, Jeong Yeon-shin no longer needed a steed.

The technique of Ten Li Swift Steps had etched constellations into the ground, and the golden ring in his heart continually spun, providing propulsion to his heels with every step.

The Seventh Apostle's technique, resembling the Void Skill, could barely keep up with him.

They reached the endless snow-capped mountains.

The two of them traveled together, maintaining some distance. Each day, when Jeong Yeon-shin shared the formula, the Seventh Apostle would inquire again the following day.

And today was noon. The sunlight was bright and white.

It seemed that spring had not yet reached Sacheon Province.

Below the snowy peaks, in a narrow gorge surrounded by white ridgelines, a stream of water flowed slowly, not yet completely frozen.

This was the only path one must cross to enter the basin of Sacheon.

“Don’t step on the ice over there. It’s very thin. One of my servants fell victim to the cold water,” a figure said, seated leisurely in the shadow of a mountain peak, fishing with a bamboo rod in the icy waters.

The figure raised their chin slightly.

The faint smile revealed in the sunlight had a peculiar tilt, and the air around them was strangely noble, almost as if mocking everything.

Because of this, Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly recalled the word "So Cheon" (literally "Laughing at the Heavens").

An overwhelming sense of familiarity struck him like a bolt of lightning, and he could even feel the same reckless attitude as Tae Yeom-ryong, as if letting go of everything.

“I have a suggestion. It’s to feed a certain greedy leader of the Golden Seal Sect some humble pie,” the figure said, a smile crossing their face after a brief shudder.

“Why don’t we go hunt dragons together?”

“Enough nonsense.”

Jeong Yeon-shin replied.