Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

Chapter 433

The Violet-Rank of Ipwang Fortress had forced a righteous elder to his knees.

It was inevitable—Azure Sword Lord Namgung Mu-hak had sought to pressure Namgung Hwa-shin under the guise of familial bonds.

Even the cadence of his words had been far from ordinary, subtly laced with hostility. It was clear that the young man who had intervened had been watching from afar.

Yet, no one dared to call attention to his speech.

The young man who had descended upon this place, following the reverberation of the elder’s mighty voice, was Yeonhwa Nata Seomye. His authority, martial prowess, and his lineage from the ancient Ma Clan had made such defiance possible.

At this point, there was no one in Dengfeng Pass who was unaware of Jeong Yeon-shin’s origins. The standards for judgment had changed.

“How enviable.”

From the doorway, Peng Ya murmured to herself.

No one turned to look at her. The sheer pressure that accompanied the howling wind bore down on the surroundings, suppressing all attention.

It was undoubtedly a form of sword wind that enhanced the force of one's strikes, yet it exerted a tangible and oppressive power over the vicinity.

Much like the Imperial Sword Form of Namgung’s direct lineage.

“……”

The silence was suffocating. The dozen swordsmen who had accompanied Namgung Mu-hak trembled violently, their faces filled with shock.

Each of them struggled to rise, but the most they could manage was to brace one knee against the ground, forcing their energy through the Yongcheon Acupoint in their soles.

Only the coarse scraping of soil against their leather shoes filled the space.

Yet, this was a technique fundamentally different from the Imperial Sword Form.

Its essence was not in restricting an opponent’s movements.

It was merely the sword wind that should have naturally preceded a drawn blade—except that its force alone was equivalent to the Imperial Sword Form.

As though Cheonggirin’s hand itself had wrapped around Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword aura, guiding it.

“Hm…”

A few swordsmen who had previously witnessed the life-and-death struggle between Ipwang Fortress and the Namgung Clan suppressed sighs through clenched teeth.

There was no greater disgrace in the martial world.

To the extent that having one's dantian shattered might have been preferable.

For a sword art dedicated to honoring a fallen heir to be turned against them, and for them to kneel before it.

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