Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

Jeong Yeon-shin walked slowly, pulling the rusted handle of the creaking cart behind him.

The orthodox martial artists trailing in the distance watched with a sense of disbelief.

The sheer pressure rolling in like a natural disaster from beyond the smooth, bronze-hued front gate and immaculate white walls was suffocating.

Whoosh—!

A wave of dust rippled outward, pushed by unseen forces. The thick haze swirled like smoke, shifting violently in the air.

The aura filling the battlefield was unlike anything found elsewhere in the world.

An atmosphere only reserved for the rulers of great sects—the presence of absolute masters.

"Are we really just going to let him walk in?"

"Even if he really is Ma Gwang-ik, he might just disrupt the battlefield rather than help…"

"But he’ll still be far more useful than us."@@novelbin@@

The junior disciples, filled with anxiety, murmured among themselves.

The expressions of the elders from Mount Qingcheng and Emei were even heavier.

Among them, the Golden Staff Saintess and the Red Cloud Dragon—both naturally attuned to Qi fluctuations—had long since erased the usual composed look from their faces.

Even Ziwei Arhat and Qing Eun Daozhang, revered elders of their sects, were unable to maintain their usual detachment.

Qing Eun Daozhang spoke, his gaze fixed on the black-robed youth as he stepped past the threshold.

"Arhat."

"Hm."

"There are two Lords of the Thirteen Heavens here."

"I know."

The middle-aged bhikkhuni nodded.

Her demeanor remained calm, but her gaze was heavy.

The place that the youth who claimed to be Ma Gwang-ik had just entered was no longer a battlefield.

It was a hellish abyss, teetering on the edge of the underworld itself.

A domain of demonic slaughter.