Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

A single gust of wind drifted long before scattering into the air. It carried the same feeling as the greenish locks of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, which always bore the scent of grass.

Sarak.

A violet sleeve, tinged with a subtle golden hue, brushed lightly against the worn tiles of the old roof.

Behind Jeong Yeon-shin.

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress was gazing at him quietly. With a single, small flicker of her eyes, the atmosphere around them wavered ever so slightly.

The tranquil rooftop beneath their feet lost its sense of reality, as though caught in a dream.

But Jeong Yeon-shin did not turn around.

It was fear—fear that he might display an unbecoming demeanor. He truly wished to be a noble man. Baek Mi-ryeo’s safety… He had no right to blame the Lord of Ipwang Fortress for failing in something he himself could not accomplish.

Even so.

Could he not at least ask?

“Master.”

“Speak.”

A luminous voice brushed against his ears. Even then, Jeong Yeon-shin only lowered his gaze slightly, still crouched in a casual posture.

“Do you know what became of Ma Gwang-ik’s First Lotus Sword Burial?”

He asked.

His voice carried no fluctuations. It was an effort to maintain his composure, but a fleeting worry struck him—had his words sounded too cold to his master? Yet he showed no signs of it.

He did not ask as a disciple, Seomye.

He asked as one clad in the violet robes of Ipwang Fortress.

Once, Yong Hui-myeong, the leader of the Divine Sword Sect, had said that only those draped in violet could stand on equal footing with the fortress lord and discuss the affairs of Ipwang Fortress.

Jeong Yeon-shin belonged to that select group, alongside his maternal grandfather Ma Yeon-jeok and Elder Council Chief Shin Byeok. He had to cast aside personal sentiment.

At that moment—

“They set a date to return him.”

Her answer fell slowly.

In the next instant, Jeong Yeon-shin was right before the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, moving like a flash of light. With a sudden pivot, he kicked off the ground toward her.

The sudden motion sent a gust of wind scattering dust far and wide, and their contrasting hair colors whipped in opposite directions.

Step—

For the first time in what felt like ages, the master and disciple of Ipwang Fortress stood face-to-face.

It was the first time since Jeong Yeon-shin had undergone his transformation.

“Who exactly is returning whom? Are you saying the Lord of Ming Cult has agreed to return the First Lotus Sword Burial?”

Sarak.

At that moment, the disciple who had grown taller stood so close that his master’s forehead nearly touched his chest.

Jeong Yeon-shin instinctively took a step back to meet her gaze.

“…Master.”

“You are correct. That is what was agreed upon.”

The Lord of Ipwang Fortress parted her lips.

Then, she gazed at Jeong Yeon-shin in silence.