Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 396: Hidden in the Shadows (5)

The chirping in the distance did not cease with a single call. Once, again, and again... the sounds overlapped several times. At least two birds were involved.

The Senate leader paused.

“......”

The heated debate regarding the dismissal of the Master of the Sword Scorpion Unit and its alternative solution also came to a halt.

The long, continuous cries had one meaning.

The sacred sparrows raised by the Hwangbo family with their clan's secretive techniques. These were symbols of the high-ranking individuals within the Sword Scorpion Unit. No one beneath the Black Hierarchy dared possess such creatures.

The large ears /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ of the Hwangbo family head perked up like blades. He was a figure with deep knowledge of every magical creature within Ipwang Fortress, a rare sage in the martial world.

As the eyes of the assembly turned to the Hwangbo family head, he slowly opened his eyes.

“It’s the Black Swallow of Lord Bo Hyeol. It’s not just one. The Qiong Swallow of Master Tianlong, and the Thunder Swallow of the Master of the Sword Scorpion are also coming. Two of the next Black Three Kings... they’re probably entrusted with the intelligence. But why is the old lady of Xinchang...?”

“She is no fool. She must have been concerned about the loss of the letter,” said the young man beside him.

“It must be an important matter. The gathering decree was issued in Sichuan, so there must be news regarding Ma Gwang-ik. Wasn’t this the most crucial task recently?”

“The Black Swallows have gathered, so things must have settled one way or another.”

“Finally...”

Expectations and anxieties mixed in the air.

Ma Jin extended his metal, steel-blue hand. The prosthetic crafted by the Iron Clan’s artisans from Sichuan, a relic of powerful martial arts.

When his five fingers spread, it was as if he was wielding an energy beyond mere mortal techniques. A translucent aura burst into the air from his palm.

BANG!

The ceiling shattered in an instant. Large and small fragments fell, raining down around them.

Above the gathered heads of the assembly, three swallows descended from the blue sky, their sharp movements graceful as they passed through an open hole without any sign of hesitation—truly sacred creatures.

The chief general, Im Jin-myeong, gestured towards a nearby White Warrior.

“Send word to the secret guards. They’ll understand the signal when it’s about the roof.”

He reached out to the air.

A sky-blue swallow landed on his arm, its cry ringing out. It was the Black Swallow of Xinchang, a messenger bird.

The chief general immediately unfurled the scroll from the swallow’s talons. The paper was densely packed with writing, tightly inscribed in a script that appeared to be hasty but deliberate.

The handwriting was wild, almost resembling the rapid flow of thought rather than formal writing.

He shook his head.

“Lord of the Clan, let’s change it.”

Xinchang, who had just received a letter from the Hwangbo family head, nodded. The letter was from Lord Bo Hyeol, one of the most influential figures in the martial world.

The White Swallow of Master Tianlong brought the letter, which was now placed between the Hwangbo family head and Ma Gwang-ik.

The Senate leader, sitting in the upper seat, crossed his arms.

Soon, he was sitting back in his seat, glaring at the young members with sharp eyes.

The only elder who ranked higher than the chief general in the meeting room, the Senate leader, remained silent, only urging them forward with his piercing gaze.

“I will report immediately.”

The chief general, Im Jin-myeong, opened the letter from Lord Bo Hyeol and began reading it aloud.

The writing on the letter was elegant and dignified, flowing in a script that emphasized necessary points only.

The chief general’s eyes scanned the contents.

“...Sunchon Ik Lord Ha Do-un, passed during his mission in the Jinbu Formation. The culprit is... the infamous Pеng Yeol-ran.”

His voice was steady, his authority as an unparalleled martial artist evident.

Others in the room reacted differently. The atmosphere was heavy with unease.

Everyone knew of the former head of the Pang family. The grief caused by this news seemed to rise within them like an uncontrollable surge. The name of a legendary martial artist, a peak figure in the world, was enough to crush spirits.

With the disappearance of the Master of the Sword Scorpion Unit, the Ipwang Fortress was now surrounded by ill omens, and all of the martial world could feel the weight of the situation.

Even the fortress leadership could not breathe easily. Someone muttered under their breath.

“Sichuan really has turned into a den of devils.”

“The Lord of the Seongmok and Master Tianlong are safe. Also...”

“What?”

The chief general paused for a moment, caught off guard. The Hwangbo family head, who had been conferring with Ma Jin, widened his eyes in shock.

“Lord Ma Gwang-ik has slain Pеng Yeol-ran! He cut down the head of the infamous Pang family with his own hands!”

His large hand slammed against Ma Jin’s prosthetic, sending a tremor through the room. A murmur of surprise spread through the assembly.

“That kid... did he take down the Pang family leader again?”

“The Pang family’s martial arts were the foundation of the righteous factions. If the former head of the Pang family were still alive, even if slightly weaker than Ma Gwang-ik, he would have been at the top...”

Before the elder from the Senate could finish his thought, he was struck by Ma Jin’s words, staggering backward in shock.

At the same time, Xinchang, who had been reading the cryptic letter, spoke up.

“A swift resolution of old grievances.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

It was a strange remark, brief but meaningful.

Trying to alleviate the tense atmosphere brought on by Lord Ha Do-un’s death, someone jokingly commented toward her.

“Isn’t it a little too much to openly favor the young lord in front of his old master?”

Her words, laced with both respect and surprise, echoed with the shock of Ma Gwang-ik’s achievements.

“...”

Xinchang did not respond. Her lips barely parted, and she could not hide the flicker of emotion in her eyes.

“The dignity of the fortress will stand tall in the world.”

She was the leader of the Ipwang Clan, a family with a rich history of producing Senate leaders, and had cultivated the martial arts of generations.

Even though the letter was rough and somewhat hasty, she had long since mastered the art of reading between the lines.

She had already read it all.

“No one can match his feats.”

As she spoke, the chief general placed the letter from Lord Bo Hyeol on the table.

In the brief moment that he absorbed all the information, his hand trembled slightly, shaped by both martial arts and calligraphy.

“This... this is...”

When the chief general stuttered, a look of doubt appeared on the Senate leader's face.

“Why do you stop reading? I understand that both good and bad news are mixed in. I also understand how much you value your daughter’s superior.”

“...”

“Ah, indeed, in some ways, it is true. Seomye is certainly the future of the fortress. They say she joined with the White Qilin of the Black Swallow, just the other day.”

The Senate leader, leaning against the back of his chair, gave a sharp glance toward the chief general.

“The path leading to the gathering of the great warriors must have more to reveal. Don’t delay. Shall I read it myself?”

The chief general regained his focus. Moments later, he spoke in a calm voice.

“From the Tang family, the leader of the Ten Sects, expelled Sunchun Ik, alone defeated Amifa and Qingseong, and successfully hosted the Martial Arts Tournament. The leaders of the Ten Sects, Sunchun Ik, and the Jinbu Lord were all defeated. Sunchun Ik fled, and Lord Bo Hyeol confirmed their deaths...”

He said it all in one breath.

The air was thick with intensity, as if the very atmosphere itself had frozen at the moment the Grand Chancellor finished speaking. The gaze of the Senate's Elder struck the letter on the table like a lightning bolt.

“...!”

The words written by the Bloodflame Cult Leader, Jin Myeong-jo.

The part discussing the deaths of the Thirteen Heavenly Lords was written in a different hand. The elegant semi-cursive script had changed into a formal, upright style.

The four characters “Ma Gwang-ik” lay before the Thirteen Lords, a truth that left no room for doubt. The leader of the Bloodflame Cult, known for his dignity and unwavering resolve, had spoken the unvarnished truth.

“...They gathered in the northern black territory. Thirteen Lords, excluding the ones who followed the Heavenly Lord to the Imperial Seat, have wiped out the Thirteen Heavenly Lords and are now advancing northeast.”

The Grand Chancellor spoke.

But the leaders of the Ipwang Fortress didn’t speak another word.

The absent head of the legendary Sword Corps’ eyes devoured the room, as if it had been consumed by the gravity of his presence.

The young Lord’s achievements, which would shake the very foundations of the world, the long-dormant power of the Sword Corps that had been buried since the founding of the empire... A chilling wave of awe surged through the room, as if a storm had swept over the assembly.

Why had it been the Thirteen Lords?

Why had they gathered there?

Because it was a land of turmoil. Six warring factions in the region of Sicheon, a midpoint where the great Lords of the Ming Dynasty and the newly-formed external territories met. A violent land.

The massacre of the Thirteen Lords had marked the beginning of their demonstration of power. The world’s strongest factions had begun to view Ipwang Fortress as merely a supply depot for their military operations, causing the peace-loving warriors to halt in their tracks.

The disturbance didn’t take long to arise.

Suddenly, the Sect Leader Ma Jin erupted in a furious outburst. It was a reaction to the death of Suncheon Ik-Ju, a tragedy that no one dared to halt.

The Elder’s wrinkled hands, resting on the table, tensed with barely-contained strength. It wasn’t jealousy or anger.

He was the one who revered Ipwang Fortress above all else. The raw strength emanating from his suppressed emotions crushed the table beneath his grip.

Crack—

“We must go to Beijing. The Lords must prepare.”

“What do you intend to do?”

The Grand Chancellor asked. Without even looking at him, the Elder replied.

“I have something to prepare. Let’s go see the Imperial Beast of Strength.”

“...We will remain here, guarding the fortress.”

The Grand Chancellor replied.

***

In the inner chambers of the Dark Night Lord.

A place filled with all kinds of bows, both long and short.

Jeong Yeon-shin sat across from two of the Sect Leaders. Between them sat a small table, and a faint, aromatic steam rose to caress his face.

None of the three touched their teacups. They had just begun discussing the past of his maternal grandfather and the legends of the Hwasan region.

The two Sect Leaders seemed as if they had made a grave decision.

They had added a significant remark earlier.

“If you hear this today, whatever Jeong Yeon-shin does from now on will become far easier.”

“It was when Binni was young. Seven disciples from the Gu Pae Ilbang gathered in one place. They were already known as prodigies of the world.”

The White Medic spoke.

She, along with the former Sect Leader of Cheongseong.

The Grandmaster of Wudang’s famous sword.

The master of the Hwasan Sect, the Sword of Sacred Fire.

The Sword Empress of Jomang.

The Abbot of Shaolin.

The Lord of the Open Sect.

“They had no fear. We didn’t even acknowledge the Longfeng Alliance and wandered through the world as lone swordsmen, gathering and scattering as we pleased. At that time, we were like dragons. Yes, we thought of ourselves as such.”

They were the heirs of the old factions. The revered heroes of the martial world, hailed as the small Immortals. The future leaders of the mountain sects.

They only had eyes for each other.

“It was until we met a handsome young man from Ipwang Fortress. It was after the True Dragon Alliance was massacred by the Gold Seal Lord, and his teacher passed away.”

The bloodshed of the Thirteen Lords.

It was the time when pride in martial arts bubbled to the surface.

When young warriors brimming with vitality met, a natural progression occurred.

“And now, that young man is the leader of the Open Sect. He said, ‘The study of the Ipwang Ma’s martial arts is nothing but a ruthless art. There’s no need to share a drink.’ It was a challenge, a provocation of sorts.”

“Amateurish.”

Jeong Yeon-shin muttered absentmindedly, his head slightly tilted. Am I in a position to judge anyone?

“Amateurish, you say?”

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“...Isn’t it customary to bond over a drink with elders you meet for the first time? I don’t understand why someone would deliberately make enemies.”

“The Lord could say that. Even Laozi said that the one who doesn’t create enemies is invincible.”

The Grandmaster of the Double Wall Sword smiled as he spoke. He had great admiration for Jeong Yeon-shin’s character.

The White Medic also smiled, sipping the tea, silently drinking in the energy flowing from Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Well, the reply from that young man of Ipwang Fortress was sharp. He said, ‘If we were to duel with drunken fists, you’d likely lose. So, enough of this nonsense.’”

Her gentle voice failed to hide the playful nature of the young master’s words.

Jeong Yeon-shin felt a deep sense of embarrassment. Without him or Ma Se-in, how would the Open Sect have fared?

I must trust only myself.

He stifled the shame that tried to rise within him.