Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time - Chapter 309

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 309: Xuanyuan (4)

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The Slayer Hero's black hat did not so much as stir. Its broad, bamboo-hat-like brim remained perfectly still, a sight that only proved how shaken he was.

There was something strange about the way he sat quietly, crouched in the corner of the bed.

Hyeon Won-chang glanced down at him and smiled faintly.

"I understand. It's a divine art that's hard to imagine in the backwoods."

"...Since my main family was destroyed, this is the most astonishing thing I've seen."

He seemed dumbfounded, yet also utterly incredulous.

The Slayer Hero was a person brimming with confidence in everything he did. He made no effort to hide his surprise.

As he glanced up at Hyeon Won-chang's hand, strange emotions flickered across his face. Shock, confusion, faint envy, and jealousy...

"What the hell is that? There's no way you could see through the qi structure of a sorcery art in so little time."

"Haha."

Hyeon Won-chang merely laughed. The Slayer Hero's brow furrowed.

"I heard rumors that an auspicious martial art had appeared in Desolate Fortress. But you, of all people, have entered the path of dharma-powered martial arts or the Daoist Three Pure Ones Power? I'd sooner believe your mouth had stayed shut for seven days and nights. No, that would be no different from a chatterbox practicing silent meditation. I simply can't believe it."

"Was that really necessary?"

"The martial art you learned must be extraordinary. Entering Desolate Fortress certainly paid off for you. This elder brother has never once traveled the martial world, just as you said, and is merely the young sect leader of a country sect."

"Well, you're absolutely right that the martial art is extraordinary."

Hyeon Won-chang lowered the corners of his mouth and changed the subject.

"More importantly, didn't you gather the scattered branch families and build a respectable sect? The Geum Family Assassins' Sect. I don't understand why you're still only a young sect leader. Going by your achievements, you've surpassed my father."

"How many families guard the gates of the Heavenly Demon's Tomb? To be recognized as sect leader, I have to pass the tests of several core branches. If an assassins' sect had a known location, could it truly be an assassins' sect? The scroll you unsealed lists the safehouses of three branches and the secret phrases used to call them."

"I don't care about that. What about my restrictions?"

Hyeon Won-chang quickly cut him off. At the same time, an inscrutable smile formed on the Slayer Hero's lips, the only part of his face visible beneath the hat.

"Seon-hwi. You were the last remaining member of the direct line. The sect leader of the Assassins' Sect and the Family Head of the Geum Family earn recognition from the branches and release one restriction at a time. Once they pass the tests of every branch, they become sect leader that very day."

"I am Hyeon Won-chang of Demon Wings. I doubt you truly want that either, Brother."

"Who knows. No matter what the family elders say, you should know that the former Family Head treated you as his son."

"I never once called him Father, so what does it matter..."

Hyeon Won-chang fell silent after that.

His mind felt muddled, as though crushed beneath a dream, but he still tried to sense his companions' presence. Beyond the inner residence, he detected familiar waves of inner power.

It was a martial art that immediately pulled his attention away from the family matters he had long buried.

* * *

Radiant Art Formation.

It was a divine art. Not because of its practitioners, but because of the martial art itself. Even without spirituality within it, it would have been called a supreme divine art.

Just as Myriad Flowers Rain was known as a peerless divine martial secret.

[Inner energy is refined within the body by breathing in natural qi. Natural qi refers to energy that exists on its own outside the bodies of linked practitioners, without artificial influence. Energy is force in motion, and the essence of force lies in every action that encompasses direction. As for action... you should already know.]

That was the introduction to the Radiant Art Formation. It was harder precisely because it had been written in simple terms.

It explained the very foundations of martial arts, then spoke of peculiar flows of inner energy as though they were obvious.

In truth, most of Demon Wings could not learn the Radiant Art Formation easily.

Its repetitive passages formed a messy tangle somewhere between consideration and arrogance.

The members of Demon Wings continued their desperate efforts whenever their Squad Leader was not watching. Even that was possible only because every one of them was a prodigy.

The masters of Desolate Fortress had always been diligent, but after learning the Radiant Art Formation, morning form practice became indispensable.

It was an immense relief that it linked Demon's Light with the Seom-ye Martial Lineage.

Outdoors.

It was a dim morning beneath towering cliffs.

As the slightly fresher air drifted quietly past, marking the time of day, the Languid Flame Dragon casually shook out his hands and snorted.

In truth, he had learned the Radiant Art Formation more easily than anyone else in Demon Wings.

"Our Squad Leader still doesn't know, does he? He thinks he made a perfect secret manual, one that is easy even to learn on your own."

Dark circles stood out beneath the hollow eyes hidden under his long, hanging bangs.

No one would have taken him for a peerless genius from his appearance, yet the loose air about him somehow gave him the bearing of a young nobleman.

"It's definitely a divine art... Hah!"

Shin So-bin's fist shot straight forward, bursting the air with a bang. It was the True Barrier of the Sihwa Boundless Fist.

Her silk-like hair and sleeves fluttered together with her powerful aura.

The Languid Flame Dragon only glanced at her once before continuing.

"Such devoted care. You show him all the respect due a Squad Leader while treating him like the youngest child. It leaves me dizzy all over again. Demon Wings was famous as a band of battle-crazed fiends, too."

"Family affection is something a wastrel wouldn't understand."

"Isn't it strange? This young master is clearly a Blue Uniform of Desolate Fortress, so why do I still feel like I'm wearing coarse cotton rags? The hierarchy in Demon Wings clearly needs some work."

"Of course. Senior Huangbo's attitude toward the Squad Leader is the same."

"There must be an art of the tongue among Demon Wings' martial arts. This must be another thing only I don't know. Won-chang, am I right?"

"Mr. Hyeon."

Hyeon Won-chang emerged from the dim hall.

Step.

The faint footfall unique to an assassin pushed through the dawn air.

They had heard the news of the Zhuge Family Head's slaying, which had thrown all Shanxi into turmoil.

Following the map drawn on the scroll, it was time for the first test. As Demon Wings, they would become the protective qi shielding Jeong Yeon-shin.

The Slayer Hero, Hyeon Won-chang, the Languid Flame Dragon, and Shin So-bin moved together.

* * *

People also called Shanxi Jin, after the ancient state that had once occupied the land.

Taiyuan was the provincial capital of Shanxi and had once been the capital of Jin. As a great city steeped in the civilization born along the Yellow River and the origins of martial arts, it possessed a deep history.

The land itself was vast.

All manner of mysteries, martial lineages, and untold sides of history still lived and breathed there.

Countless groups moved busily through the light and shadows of a city inhabited by tens of thousands.

That was why no one paid attention when dozens of birds rose from the distant mountain ridges.

A forest overlooking the enormous city below.

Step.

A woman in red, her hair hanging like ebony, stood atop a high branch.

Her pale face was almost white, and her single crimson eye gleamed enchantingly. At the end of her fixed gaze stood an old-fashioned guesthouse.

The Seventh Apostle parted her lips.

"May I kill them?"

"You're still clinging to that revolting way of speaking. Why are you asking me?"

A figure standing atop a floating sword answered from one side of the undergrowth. It was Baek Seo-gun, the Sword Venerable, a woman with half-gray hair and an imposing presence.

She wore an expression of disgust and did not even look at the Seventh Apostle.

Her eyes remained fixed on the guesthouse beyond the city wall, hundreds of paces away.

The Seventh Apostle's lips curved into a smooth smile.

"Because you deserve respect."

That was all. She said nothing further.

Leaves just beginning to take on a green hue flickered beneath their feet.

Baek Seo-gun did not bother asking more or trying to understand. The demonic and unorthodox paths were a world of madmen.

The martial artists who lived in them were each obsessed with their own values.

Among them, the Red Clan of the True Blood Physique was known in the highest circles of the martial world as a little monster driven mad by the pursuit of Martial Extreme.

No one had been surprised when that girl rose to the rank of Apostle. She had been made of different stuff.

Shaaah.

When a cold wind swept through the brush like a wave, Baek Seo-gun quietly watched the entrance of the distant guesthouse.

'They called him Grand Preceptor.'

Had the Seventh Apostle been hostile to Jeong Yeon-shin, Baek Seo-gun would have drawn her sword at once to cut off her head. Yet if her mad obsession was directed at Seom-ye's martial talent, there could be no better guard.

Baek Seo-gun's position was awkward, but she had long decided not to break Seom-ye's shield. The Sword Venerable of Henan would soon have to return to the Heart Martial Union.

"Why aren't you going?"

"What?"

"Some insignificant people followed my precious Grand Preceptor inside."

"It would not look good to outsiders if the Leader of Demon Wings of Desolate Fortress were seen with me. Why are you here, then? Following Seom-ye in secret like a petty thief."

"The Grand Preceptor doesn't like me."

Her voice sounded like a murmur. The calm end of her sentence trembled as though it might break off at any moment.

She did not look cowed. Rather, she resembled a child learning martial arts for the first time, reciting a mnemonic formula before adults. This side of herself felt unfamiliar and frightening to her.

Baek Seo-gun inwardly found the sight of that pitiful little back of the head absurd, but did not show it.

Who could understand a blood demon whose eyes had been fixed on martial arts since birth?

The two remained still for some time, until suddenly a huge shadow fell behind them.

Whoosh!

The sunlight vanished from the forest.

There was no sign of it, no aura.

It descended like a pillar of lightning bursting from a clear sky.

Having completely concealed his overwhelmingly vast presence, he was all the more absolute. After a long time, the Heart Martial Union's Alliance Leader, known as the Martial Emperor of the Prince of Commandery, had appeared before the one person who served as his right hand.

His presence was so transparent that it raised goosebumps.

"An unexpected companion. What brings you here?"

Until that voice, like something scraped up from the depths of the earth, rang out, Jeong Yeon-shin had been inside the guesthouse practicing sword-control techniques against a group of strangers.

To survive the harsh martial world with his body still unwell, he needed an art that stood apart from all others.

* * *

Three figures landed atop a wall roofed with old tiles.

It enclosed a compound with a huge main residence, annexes, a latrine, and a small well spread across the grounds. There were few people around because a great incident had occurred there not long ago.

It was where the Zhuge Family Head and Lotus Nezha had clashed. They said the aura of masters of supreme transcendence affected even nature itself.

The Gongya Family.

A desolate air hung over the place. Not even insects chirped nearby.

Though the midday sun shone brightly, an eerie chill suited the ruins before them.

Among the three figures surveying the scene, the martial artist standing in the center spoke. He was a middle-aged swordsman clad in pitch-black martial garb.

"They say Demon Wings' Great Tongue Sword follows the Leader of Demon Wings. Unless there was an exceptional reason, he would have appeared here as well. Find him."

"Squad Leader, the martial prowess of Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings, appears to have exceeded our expectations. I fear he may become a major variable."

"...Reports surrounding the Zhuge Family Head's slaying are steadily being confirmed. Yet the Leader of Demon Wings' martial prowess was also seen at the Martial Alliance Assembly's grand founding ceremony. Even if he has achieved an unbelievable increase in power, he could not have faced Jegal Cheon-sang's Crouching Dragon Rebirth and emerged unscathed. His internal and external injuries must be severe."

"I understand. I will carry out your order."

There was refinement in their bearing. Even when the two martial artists on either side twisted their feet to launch themselves forward, they carried the dignity of a prestigious family.

The refined aura of the Body Movement Scripture sent long ripples through the hems of their trousers.

"I came because I sensed the coarse aura of the Moyong Family."

The voice seemed to spill forth with boiling strength. Its nature was far removed from anything like restraint or refinement.

"What...!"

The three spun around, unable to hide their shock at the sudden presence.

They faced a man.

For an instant, it felt as though a brand had been seared onto their retinas.

The man's appearance seemed to force itself into their eyes. It clearly was not intentional, yet that was how it felt.

"Senior..."

The middle-aged swordsman in black trailed off as he took in the intruder.

Short black hair fell roughly around a face with strong, sharply defined lines.

His body was suffocatingly solid, as though layered in iron armor, while an aura reminiscent of a massive fortress flowed from his entire form.