Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

It was when he was lying on a tall tree, gazing at the window.

The Seventh Apostle saw and heard clearly. The mutterings of something insignificant came through as a distinct voice.

It was due to the sensory path of Blood Arts. She had cast it to capture even a single trace of the young sect leader's inner breathing.

Her heightened hearing absorbed everything.

—Surrender first and devote yourself to the main family. I'll only make you clean my feet. I'm sincere.

The vile voice of the Namgoong mongrel defiled her ears.

Step.

She took a step. She moved without a second thought. The insolent one had to be disciplined.

As always, The Seventh Apostle's movements were executed the moment she willed them.

She came crashing through the inn's entrance while wrapped in wind from body techniques.

Before she knew it, she was clutching the Namgoong brat's cheek, slowly lifting her up. The feel of the powder smeared on her face was utterly repulsive.

She could not frown. The boy who would create the world's only divine technique was watching her.

She put on a smooth smile.

"You."

She felt the cold gaze of the young Grand Master, which always excited her. The Seventh Apostle thought,

'My small and noble Grand Master, your dignity is my prestige.'

"What did you just say?"

She asked the Namgoong mongrel whose face she was holding.

Namgoong Mi could not answer. Her eyes bulged, and she only exhaled pained breaths.

Silence fell over the inn.

Only the shattered fragments of the door clattered belatedly. Such was the suddenness of the Seventh Apostle's appearance.

The overwhelming presence she exuded added to the impact. The explosion of energy that accompanied her Flash-Step was immense.

"..."

Everyone in the inn focused their gaze on Jung Yeonshin's group. Many had been discussing the Namgoong and Desolate Fortress.

A considerable number immediately recognized the martial robes of Desolate Fortress. Waves of astonishment spread.

"Is that truly Desolate Fortress?"

"Blue robes, and that age…."

"But more than that, that, that…!"

A master who pushed their martial senses to the extreme was a rare being. There were none in this inn.

Yet the Seventh Apostle's presence suppressed people regardless of their perception.

She exuded a chilling aura that burrowed deep into their spines. It was the characteristic of a powerful unorthodox master.

'Her robes are red.'

Jung Yeonshin thought. The red robe draping the Seventh Apostle's body was clearly made of Pure Blood silk.

It was strange for someone of her stature in Blood Flame Cult to appear without disguise. It would have been more fitting to conceal her presence with her refined blood energy.

'There's no other choice.'

He must drive her out. Even if the robe bore no markings of Blood Flame Cult, he had to. Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin were nominally part of Namgoong Mi's entourage.

'If I want to carry out the challenge under this pretext….'

The boy exchanged glances with Namgoong Hwashin. Their eyes communicated instantly.

At that moment—

"Huuuuuk…!"

Namgoong Mi let out a groan mixed with breath. The Seventh Apostle's fingers pressed more forcefully against her cheek.

It looked as though she was torturing her. Her unseen finger techniques seemed to have already sealed her pressure points.

"She's not answering."

Her tone was casual, and her face remained unchanged. Only a faint smile lingered, making her all the more terrifying.

Even her beauty, with flowing black hair and divine red eyes, appeared demonic.

"..."

The inn fell into complete silence.

With the strength of her grip infused with deadly energy, she could crush her face in an instant.

Jung Yeonshin changed his mind. If Namgoong Mi died here, Desolate Fortress might be held responsible.

He needed to placate the Seventh Apostle's unpredictable mood. He immediately sent a sound transmission.

—What do you think you're doing?

There was no reply. Just like Namgoong Mi.

Jung Yeonshin stared intently at the Seventh Apostle. He did not turn his gaze but showed only his profile.

Yet it seemed there was no more strength in her grip on Namgoong Mi's face. She was listening.

'Vile blood demon. Impossible to read.'

The boy rested his hand on the hilt of the Desolate Sword and slightly raised his heel. It was a standard preparation for a sword draw.

But his internal energy was different. The moment he activated Jung Family's Dynamic Art, a solemn energy enveloped the room.

Namgoong Hwashin, taking a similar stance, also emanated a forceful aura.

A breeze stirred within the room, carrying traces of killing intent.

—It was a sworn pact.

Jung Yeonshin continued through sound transmission.

—You've broken it so blatantly. Three hundred zhang reduced to one step.

"..."

—You've deeply disappointed me, the Seventh Apostle.

The Seventh Apostle's shoulders flinched. It was an unbelievable sight.

Her slender frame, hidden by the immense pressure of her aura, now appeared fully exposed.

The blood silk robe no longer seemed like heavenly armor.

'A trap?'

Jung Yeonshin calmly waited for an opening. He barely resisted the urge to strike immediately.

Rushing in would invite a counterattack. Was this haughty emissary of Blood Flame Cult mocking him? For a moment, he almost failed to continue pressing her.

—Are you abandoning our deal for martial arts?

"..."

—Twelve seconds remain in the pact for the Demon Roaring Blood Art. Are you declaring that you'll sever everything with your own hands? That's what your actions say.

"No…."

The Seventh Apostle murmured faintly, lowering her head slightly.

Jung Yeonshin furrowed his brow.

It was bizarre. It reminded him of Namgoong Mi's theatrics.

How many people had died at her hands? Did she mock them this way too?

The blood spilled to refine her deadly art must be unfathomable.

Her absurd display angered him. The surge of energy from Jung Family's Dynamic Art brushed coldly past his Heavenly Pillar Point.

It had to be intentional. It was a deliberate provocation befitting a sect emissary.

'The openings are blatant. Could I kill her here?'

Jung Yeonshin had already activated Radiant Demon Arts. Transparent streams formed in his mind.

Invisible strands turned into trajectories of blades within his thoughts.

The sharp lines extended outward, but the moment they reached the Seventh Apostle, they crumbled helplessly.

It meant no strike in the Radiant Demon Arts could deal a decisive blow. His instincts confirmed it.

'I must cooperate with Namgoong.'

The White Qilin Namgoong Hwashin understood Jung Yeonshin's thoughts without words. They could match seamlessly in technique.

If every sword strike against the Seventh Apostle was blocked, they had to create variables through the first exchange.

Just as Jung Yeonshin was about to draw his sword—

Swish!

"This is why."

The Seventh Apostle muttered briefly, her smile gone.

With a single motion, she spun Namgoong Mi around and grabbed the back of her neck. In an instant—

She slammed Namgoong Mi's head into the table. The motion was as fluid as a martial art technique.

Bang!

The table and her forehead collided with a tremendous impact. It didn't stop at one strike. She didn't even use much energy.

Her actions seemed more like venting anger, laced with malice, as if ignoring the stares of the entire room.

Bang! Bang!

Namgoong Mi's lips released the sound of air escaping her lungs. She, too, was a trained martial artist.

She didn't lose consciousness immediately. Each time her head bounced up, her raw, ragged breaths echoed loudly.

'She's daring us to come in.'

To Jung Yeonshin, it appeared as the Seventh Apostle's provocation. Without further hesitation, he executed the formulas of the Radiant Demon Arts.

The energy of Jung Family's Dynamic Art took on a luminous intent in an instant.

Wooong!

Before even half a breath passed, his entire flow of energy reacted. From his right hand, a white sword light flared.

Simultaneously, the swift sword technique of Radiant Demon Arts burst forth like a streak of light from his waist.

Saaaak!

As expected, there was no resistance. The Seventh Apostle immediately stepped back, employing footwork to retreat.

Before dodging, she had thrown Namgoong Mi onto the table. No one paid any attention to Namgoong Mi, who was sprawled out.

'For now, it's fine.'

Keeping the Seventh Apostle in his sight, Jung Yeonshin swept his gaze briefly over the table. He caught sight of Namgoong Mi's face, flushed red on the forehead, her eyes clouded.

"Hah…."

"Was that a sword strike just now? They say Desolate Fortress has many promising young talents."

"Truly, a spectacle of refined martial arts!"

The onlookers erupted into admiration as if watching a neighbor's fire. Even the act of drawing his sword now seemed normal in their eyes.

Perhaps, to them, the blue-robed martial artist from Desolate Fortress was merely exuding his commanding aura in a standoff. No other explanation fit.

'That's a relief.'

While feeling reassured, Jung Yeonshin also found it odd.

No one in the inn had fled. Their breaths were irregular and intense.

Excitement and tension filled the air simultaneously, as if they couldn't miss the rare chance to witness such a battle between masters.

This city of Huangzhou had three major roads leading to Huizhou Province, Jiangxi Province, and Southern Zhili.

With its bustling trade and logistics, many martial artists were said to pass through. The rumor that only those with nerves of steel dared to venture out proved true.

Even with a fight between masters unfolding, no one fled in panic.

'The crowd of commoners is surprisingly diverse.'

Setting aside the sense of expanding his perspective, Jung Yeonshin remained tense. He couldn't take his eyes off the Seventh Apostle, who kept her head lowered.

He had no idea when she might unleash a deadly strike. A stockpile of dozens of fire bombs wouldn't be more terrifying than her.

"Young Hero Namgoong."

"Don't worry about the half-second gap. I'll cover you right away."

A reassuring voice came from the rear diagonal. Jung Yeonshin gave a slight nod.

It was his first time using a narrow inn as a battleground. With Namgoong Hwashin's Azure Stream Movement, he believed they could respond fluidly.

Then it happened.

Step.

Suddenly, the Seventh Apostle turned her body. Her posture still appeared subdued.

Lightly stepping forward, she walked out of the inn. Her movements seemed unreal.

—Come again. I'll take one strike.

It was her sound transmission, suggesting a duel and retreating.

As soon as she left the inn, her presence soared onto the rooftop and gradually faded.

Jung Yeonshin stood still, gripping the Desolate Sword.

'If her words are true, I'll have to sever her right arm first. She won't give up her neck.'

He paid no attention to the Seventh Apostle's inscrutable intentions.

The achievements and merits he could gain by taking the head of a Blood Flame Cult emissary were secondary. She had to die, just like Namgoong Mi.

"Oh… The young master of Desolate Fortress drove out the unorthodox scum."

"What was her identity? She seemed to be from the Blood Flame Cult."

"She wasn't a blood demon. Didn't she have black hair? Surely not an Apostle."

"Her eye was red…? I don't know. I only saw her profile, and she had one eye."

The spectators hesitated to approach Jung Yeonshin's group, merely whispering among themselves.

Even those who didn't value their lives seemed to think differently when facing a master directly.

The unexpected commotion ended anticlimactically. While it might have appeared well-handled, to Jung Yeonshin, it felt absurd.

Had he truly subdued the Seventh Apostle? He couldn't accept that.

'I must stand firmly on my own strength. Depending on an enemy's whims is beyond reason.'

As he resolved himself, Namgoong Hwashin, who also hadn't sheathed his sword, approached.

He looked at Namgoong Mi with a complicated expression.

"We need to find a physician. She won't be able to stand for a duel like this."

"…Yes, we should."

Jung Yeonshin nodded slowly.

The once-peaceful day had turned chaotic. The group couldn't leave Huangzhou immediately.

Namgoong Mi needed to be mobile for their mission to have meaning.

Four days passed.

During that time, they found a physician for Namgoong Mi and rented an annex of the inn to stay together.

Whenever Namgoong Mi groaned in her sleep, only Namgoong Hwashin reacted.

'Does blood still mean family?'

Jung Yeonshin quietly focused on developing new techniques and meditations. He lay down, lost in thought.

It was deeper meditation than ever before. Even as the light of dawn gently swept into the room, he remained immersed.

On the fifth day, when the sun illuminated the world—

Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin were visited by a group of martial artists. They brought a commotion from the moment they arrived at the inn.

It felt like a festival.

The energy and presence were undeniable, enough to revive Namgoong Mi's spirit.

Lying on the bed, Namgoong Mi looked at Jung Yeonshin with a pale face, smirking.

Her expression amid the noise seemed to say:

No matter what you are, you must listen to me.

"Azure Qilin! It's the Azure Qilin Young Master Namgoong!"

"Namgoong Se-jin in Huangzhou…?"

"That inn! Weren't the Desolate Fortress martial artists there?"

Azure Qilin Namgoong Se-jin.

The young master of the Namgoong clan had arrived after hearing rumors about his younger sister.