Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

Chapter 38 – A Monk’s Debt of Gratitude (2)

The martial artists whispered among themselves.

“The Desolate… Desolate Fortress…?”

“That can’t be. Why would the Desolate Fortress come here?”

“The eminent monks of Shaolin were with the magistrate bastard! There’s no way the Desolate Fortress wouldn’t show up!”

They truly displayed the chaos of the black factions.

When the back-alley ruffians learned low-level martial arts and became martial artists, they were called the black faction. They were those who failed to become proper martial artists.

It was then that a hefty, bald brute pulled the axe he had stuck into the table.

The man seemed to have learned martial arts befitting his natural strength. His eyes, bloodshot with drunkenness, glared at Yeon-shin.

“This brat is an expert from the Desolate Fortress? These guys are brothers?”

The man gripped the axe handle and suddenly hurled it. The sound of the air being torn was intense.

Won-chang remained motionless with his arms crossed. He even smiled.

Boom!

Yeon-shin drew his sword in the blink of an eye and deflected it away.

The axe shattered into pieces instantly. The sudden surge of power in his hand gripping the Desolate Sword created a gust of wind.

Some fragments of the axe scattered in the air.

“Channeling the power of a fist into a sword strike…!”

Won-chang, who was smiling nonchalantly nearby, exclaimed in admiration.

He seemed to have recognized it as the Point-Blank Blast of the second tier of the Eternal Blossom Fist. Perhaps it was because Yeon-shin created and used his own martial arts.

He had easily reached the stage where he could freely infuse different energies into his attacks.

‘The Desolate Fortress, Nine Great Sects, and Thirteen Heavens are like clouds above.’

At that moment, he realized that his martial arts belonged to a different world than the average local martial artists.

Compared to the Fierce Asura Sword of the Tyrant Sword Sect, it felt as trivial as a fly.

He didn’t even need to use the Fatebreaker’s Codex to stack qi. The axe throw felt incredibly light.

“Was throwing axes your way of starting a conversation?”

As he stepped forward with his sword lowered, the members of the black faction were terrified. Yeon-shin paid no mind and approached confidently.

Even if he left the others alone, he couldn’t leave the hefty bald man. The throw was clearly an attempt to kill.

How lightly he had used his hands until now, it was as natural as flowing water.

It was different from the Mantis Sect, which had to face Yeon-shin within its own martial arts sect.

There would have been more than a few commoners who had been victimized.

“Wait, wait, let’s talk!”

The man seemed to have lost the will to resist after witnessing the power of the Point-Blank Blast. At the same time, the Desolate Sword flashed.

The white light spreading from the long blade illuminated the man’s despairing face.

Shhh-!

The splattered blood shone vividly, as if urging for an answer. The remaining men’s complexions changed.

After the Jeong family’s annihilation, rumors spread of a bloody wind blowing through the marketplace.

There had been a war among the black factions over the local market.

He heard the story.

The Chief Steward of the Jeong family had formed a merchant group amidst the chaos and grew it with incredible skill.

Their main trade was in agricultural products, and their skill in negotiation and distribution was such that they quickly expanded beyond Xinye County.

However, the estate’s forests and assets were the foundation of the merchant group. The black faction martial artists wouldn’t leave it alone.

They said they blinded the magistrate with great wealth, then attacked and dismantled the merchant group.

A sect called Xinye Baekmu Faction was thus formed.

“Rotten bastards!”

Won-chang was furious.

The courtesans who had been with the martial artists of the Xinye Baekmu Faction quietly returned to the brothel.

They didn’t even scream. It seemed they were accustomed to blood.

It was unclear what the magistrate was doing.

“I believe you can handle it well.”

“A day should suffice, right?”

“Considering it’s the land of your family. If you ask, I can help.”

It was a trivial matter for the experts of Demon Wings.

The seniors patted Yeon-shin, the youngest, on the head or shoulders and headed to the guest rooms.

With his calm nature and stable martial prowess, Lightning Flash had already gained trust within Demon Wings through just two missions.

“Can I punish the magistrate?”

“It’s possible once you become a black robe.”

Yeon-shin’s question was answered by Ma Jin. He continued speaking.

“You’ve already annihilated the Mantis Sect alone. You are clearly stronger than back then. A local black faction like the one in Xinye County shouldn’t be difficult. Do you need any more help?”

“I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you.”

“I’ll investigate this magistrate thoroughly upon my return. Much seems likely to surface.”

With words of gratitude, Yeon-shin bowed. As he turned, Won-chang was smiling brightly.

“I’ll go with you. Sending a young master like Jeong on a righteous journey alone? The name Lightning Flash would be insulted.”

“It’s not a righteous journey, though.”

“How is sweeping away a black faction sect not a task for a hero? Others fear even a scratch and won’t do it.”

“Should I add your name to the Jeong family’s Fish Scale Map?”

The Fish Scale Map was a detailed land registry.

It was a joke suggesting they might give him a piece of land, but Won-chang shook his head seriously.

“The true hero doesn’t accept rewards.”

He seemed like an unreliable figure in the Desolate Fortress. Recently, Yeon-shin often thought this.

Wasn’t Won-chang truly a great hero worthy of being in stories?

He was also a handsome man with a hearty impression. The hero’s headband on his forehead suited him perfectly.

‘It just doesn’t feel real yet.’

The two headed straight for the Xinye Baekmu Faction. It was not far away.

They arrived without needing to use the Desolate Fortress’s martial arts techniques.

It seemed like they were using a small manor of a local power as it was, with an antique front gate firmly closed.

“It’s almost a shame to cut it down.”

Contrary to his words, Hyeon Won-chang had already drawn his Desolate Sword.

With a single step of his footwork, he spun like a northern wind.

The refined force on his sword’s edge rang sharply, and as the Rotational Strike severed the gate, Yeon-shin stomped the ground.

Crack-!

Wooden fragments scattered in the wind enveloping Yeon-shin’s body.

Through the now open view, martial artists armed with various weapons came into sight. They were already prepared.

It was said that it was the larger sects that hesitated to clash with the Desolate Fortress.

Smaller sects were often ignorant of the news and did not easily sense rumors. They lacked the ability to know their enemies.

It reminded him of Cheong Myeong’s comment about how the term “ignorant” applied to such people.

The Xinye Baekmu Faction. Their attitude was truly arrogant.

“Only two ignorant fools came! I’ll make fertilizer out of you as well!”

A man with an arrogant expression and imposing stature emerged. He seemed to be the leader, the master of the Xinye Baekmu Faction.

“What are you waiting for? Kill them!”

Yeon-shin didn’t stop his charge.

With a hazy beam of light, the Radiance Sword Style brushed past the master’s neck.

He had just broken the dantians of the underlings and collected documents related to the Jeong family.

Four people crossed the threshold of the Xinye Baekmu Faction. Their eyes scanned the surroundings, filled with shock and amazement.

It seemed due to the many black faction martial artists lying groaning on the ground.

“Oh, it’s too late already.”

“This, what on earth is this…?”

Two monks, an older middle-aged man, and the magistrate of Xinye County dressed in official robes.

It seemed they had heard rumors from the tavern and came.

“Aren’t you… a child of the Jeong family?”

The chubby-faced magistrate recognized Yeon-shin.

Even without frequent interactions, they knew each other’s faces.

The martial sects and the magistrates were not separate entities.

It was common for the martial sects to aid in maintaining order when manpower was lacking.

Likewise, the magistrate often provided convenience in tribute and business, forming a symbiotic relationship.

“Th-The Desolate Fortress? Is that you?”

“Young master!”

Leaving the stammering magistrate behind, a person rushed to stand before him.

“You’ve truly become a martial artist of the Desolate Fortress! Wearing a blue robe, indeed! It’s like a dream!”

The middle-aged man’s face brightened, the Chief Steward of the Jeong family.

It seemed the rumors of Lightning Flash’s exploits in Shaanxi hadn’t yet reached Hanam.

“I heard you were not doing well, Chief Steward.”

“I lacked strength.”

The Chief Steward gave a wry smile. Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes. The aura approaching was different than before.

It was quite clear and weighty. It was a change unlikely without studying proper orthodox martial arts.

“Did you join an orthodox sect?”

“Yes. At my age, I became a secular disciple of the Shaolin Monastery. Fortune favored me. I am truly grateful.”

It was indeed a surprising event. Expressing the ups and downs from losing the merchant group to becoming a Shaolin disciple in words would take a long time.

The expression on his face revealing complex emotions was enough.

The Chief Steward seemed to have sought the help of Shaolin to eradicate the black faction in Xinye.

During the catastrophe that annihilated the Jeong family, he felt his extraordinary nature. Such an exceptional man was rotting in the Jeong family.

He introduced the old monk standing quietly beside him.

“This is my master.”

“I am Won Jong.”

The old monk in yellow robes raised his right hand in front of his chest.

It was called a half bow, a unique Shaolin gesture.

His face, staring intently at Yeon-shin, was weathered with time.

“So, you are Venerable Won Jong. I am Jeong Yeon-shin of the Desolate Fortress.”

When Yeon-shin made a fist salute, a voice interrupted.

“The young hero’s skills are truly remarkable! I am Gak Jeong!”

A young martial monk who had been looking around approached.

He was very handsome. His neat head and generous, long ears were impressive. A martial monk of Shaolin’s famous elven race.

Before speaking with them, discerning their status was difficult, but it was clear he wasn’t of elder-level age.

Little Divine Monk Gak Jeong. His name was already well-known.

He was said to be one of the Eighteen Arhats of the Shaolin Monastery and a master of Shaolin martial arts. He wasn’t an ordinary prodigy.

“Master. May I speak with this person?”

“As you wish. But before that.”

Venerable Won Jong, with his weary eyes, looked directly at Yeon-shin.

“Do you have any connection with our monastery?”

“It is my first time meeting Shaolin experts.”

“However, your body is quite remarkable. It’s as if you have mastered the Yijin Sutra.”

The Yijin Sutra. It was a martial art known to all martial artists. Its origin was widely recognized.

It was said that the Great Master Da Mo created it to cultivate the bodies and internal energy of monks.

The Seventy-Two Arts of Shaolin were said to begin and end with the Yijin Sutra.

The Chief Steward, as well as Gak Jeong, widened their eyes.

“Come to think of it…”

The words of Gak Jeong, who was examining Yeon-shin’s physique, trailed off. The Chief Steward just stood quietly, filled with admiration.

Even though he knew Yeon-shin had been cultivating his body for nearly ten years by creating Jeong Family Dynamic Training, he was still amazed.

Though he had become a secular disciple of Shaolin, he didn’t speak carelessly.

“Young hero Jeong. I don’t think you have stolen and learned our temple’s secret arts. That’s impossible.”

Gak Jeong spoke up.

“However, I have a good idea. I understand that your skills are quite reasonable from a secular point of view. But, from the perspective of someone who has only honed martial arts and the Buddha’s way in the mountain temple, it seems a bit excessive. Since it’s certain you’ll become one of the top masters in the world, this humble monk cannot help but be concerned.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“A martial artist speaks with martial prowess. I have mastered the Iron Palm, Yijin Sutra, and some of the Seventy-Two Arts’ external techniques. Although Yijin Sutra includes internal techniques, you seem to have cultivated your body with a dynamic art. How about granting the victor’s request by competing with physical achievements? If you accept, I will give you this.”

Gak Jeong took out a small wooden box from his robe and opened it.

A pungent herbal scent wafted out, revealing a small pill.

“It’s the Bright Pure Pill. I have made it by transmitting my clan’s secret art to our temple’s Medicine King Hall.”

“The Bright Pure Pill!”

Won-chang, who had been watching nonchalantly, was suddenly startled.

He had just come out from the pavilion after searching for wealth to distribute to the commoners.

While the renown of the Great Elixir and Lesser Elixir encompassed the world, recently, medicines like the Bright Pure Pill from Shaolin were gaining a reputation.

It was said to rapidly heal injured meridians. It was due to the fusion of Shaolin’s Medicine King Hall’s medical skills and the elven secret techniques.

‘I’ve heard it’s quite a precious medicine.’

Even if one suffered internal injuries, they could immediately fight again. Perhaps this was Shaolin’s fair-mindedness.

Their cautious offer of medicine first, despite wanting to guide him, was impressive.

It would be a rare thing in other martial sects.

Yeon-shin stared quietly into Gak Jeong’s clear eyes and nodded.

As he accepted the wooden box, Gak Jeong grinned.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Haha! Thank you for accepting my meddling. And you never know, young hero. You might need to take that medicine immediately.”

It was an interesting challenge. He was implying that Yeon-shin might suffer internal injuries while competing with him.

Considering the formidable Shaolin martial arts and the Little Divine Monk’s fame, it was quite plausible.

“What is your request, Master?”

“If I win, listen to my Buddhist lecture for one shichen.”

“……?”

“What? Did you think I’d ask you to shave your head and join the main temple?”

Gak Jeong, who was loosening his limbs, seemed like an intriguing person to Yeon-shin.

The mix of a martial artist’s competitive spirit and a Buddhist disciple’s transcendence seemed to create a peculiar personality. It wasn’t a bad feeling.

“Let’s begin.”

“Good.”

As he took his stance, Yeon-shin instinctively knew.

If they used internal energy, he would still be far behind the Little Divine Monk Gak Jeong.

However, the degree of physical training was different. He had achieved greatness by training solely with Jeong Family Dynamic Training for a long time.

He thought it was worth a try.

Smack!

As soon as the martial competition began, dazzling fists and kicks poured in. Fists and legs traced all sorts of trajectories, striking his entire body.

Only his eyes moved as he wished. He absorbed the essence of the Shaolin fist and kick techniques one by one.

Pa-rak! Thud!

The fist that struck his shoulder wasn’t light. Without any qi, powerful martial arts flowed from Gak Jeong’s body.

For twenty exchanges, Yeon-shin didn’t make a single effective counterattack.

It was then. Suddenly, Gak Jeong’s robes flapped with discipline.

It was only for a moment. With two steps of the Point-Blank Blast, he suddenly charged at a forward angle.

It seemed to be the Dragon Fist, one of the Five Shaolin Fists.

Thwack-!

The rising fist erupted from his solar plexus. Was it a technique that embodied a dragon’s ascent within a human body?

Even without any internal energy, a cloud of dust rose. It was as if he had intended to kill him.

“Hm?”

Instead, Gak Jeong was pushed back two steps. The footprints imprinted on the dirt floor were deep.

Yeon-shin stood quietly with a serene face. He remained in the exact spot where he had been standing when the martial competition began.

“……”

“Have you finished, Master?”

He asked quietly.

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