Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

How many days had passed?

Jeong Yeon-shin had no sense of time.

It had been after rushing along the river and crossing over a couple of mountain ridges. He had fought shoulder to shoulder with the Seventh Apostle and faced So Cheonmujuk.

After several fierce battles, his energy points had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion. It wasn't just his meridians and blood vessels that were close to rupture—his purple robe, which was usually resistant to tearing, had a gaping hole around his abdomen.

A gust of wind swept through the bloodied, gaping wound between his ribs. Without a combined attack, facing such a formidable foe was impossible.

The pain, as if his body might tear apart at any moment, surged through his whole being.

Though his body felt as though it was pierced by countless blades, a strange, detached sensation lingered as if it had been a long time since he had fallen into a trance, casting off his martial intent and swinging his sword. Was it because he was facing someone like the symbol of turmoil?

It was an unknown ravine. Sunlight poured down like long blades of a sword from the cliffs rising on either side of the valley.

Jeong Yeon-shin, standing on a ledge beneath it, threw several strikes with his sword.

Boom! Thud!

The transparent shockwaves scraped the cliffside.

The aftermath of the powerful strikes sent rocks flying in all directions. With the intense friction came the sound of rocks scraping down the cliff, forming a cave that looked like the shape of a crescent moon.

Jeong Yeon-shin, the Seventh Apostle, and the leader of the Bloodflame Cult, So Cheonmujuk.

The three of them crashed through the air, dashed across the walls, and stepped on branches jutting out between the cliffs, crossing paths like streaks of light.

The colors of deep purple, red, and pure white flickered among the intense energy waves, occasionally splashing with red blood.

Boom!

So Cheonmujuk tore a chunk of flesh from the side of the Seventh Apostle. In an instant, a white wind swirled around, tightly wrapping around the Apostle’s skin with a sharp sound.

It was a maneuver to momentarily block the overwhelming regenerative ability of So Cheonmujuk’s blood.

The master of the Bloodflame Cult’s hand technique.

Her fingers, dyed as transparently as ice, left a trail of blood that stretched long behind her.

A soft laugh came from beyond the fluttering hem of her clothes, which fluttered white like a windstorm along with her white scarf.

She had never called herself a celestial demon, but this laughter had long been heard even before Jeong Yeon-shin ventured into the martial world. It was a derision from someone whose existence was called a mistake by the heavens.

No matter the outcome, the battle would ultimately shake the entire world’s balance.

"Strong."

Jeong Yeon-shin thought, pulling the Seventh Apostle’s shoulder back.

She, who had been staggering like she was about to fall, suddenly stretched her arms wide behind her the moment his hand touched her.

With the sound of fabric flapping, her bright red cloak spread like bat wings, lingering in the air, a technique called "Body of the Fiery Flame" from the Bloodflame Cult’s signature moves.

She was even more energetic than Jeong Yeon-shin.