694 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

The moment I stepped inside, I was immediately struck by the sight of over twenty people already waiting in anticipation. Each step forward left my skin tingling uncomfortably, the oppressive atmosphere prompting a slight click of my tongue in discontent. 'Tsk. These middle-aged men and their power games.' There was a pointless display of authority happening here, as always when martial artists gathered. They were drawing boundaries and engaging in their silent battles. If only they'd refrain from this needless wagering—there'd be plenty of energy to spare. Even cumulatively, I was confident I surpassed them. Their incessant boasting often led to their own undoing. In war, those who squandered their strength early typically found themselves unable to muster the true essence when it mattered, often leading to their inevitable demise. 'That's why dealing with those who have never experienced war is a waste.' I waved my hand dismissively, burying the insults that threatened to surface. With a whoosh of air, I gently dispersed the oppressive energy binding me, finally allowing myself to breathe a bit easier. However... “…!” “…." Their recognition of someone disrupting their aura was palpable; eyes of those deemed "successful" turned sharply towards me. Sheepishly, I offered them an awkward smile. "Sorry. It was a bit suffocating," I mumbled, finding a spot to settle myself. There didn’t seem to be any allocations, so I made my way to a shaded part of the veranda and sat down. The stares persisted, but I consciously decided to ignore them. The only thing occupying my thoughts now was the passage of time—how long until the next round began, given that the preliminaries were still spreading out before us. ‘How are Wi Seol-Ah and Seong-Yul doing?’ Anxious thoughts about my companions, who had also joined the preliminaries, crept in. Whatever hurdles they faced in other locations, I hoped they were handling them seamlessly. 'They should be fine, right...?' Deep down, I felt they wouldn't be among the eliminated ones, but it didn't stop the worry from nagging at me, especially concerning Wi Seol-Ah. '...Is she doing well...?' She occupied my thoughts like a child left at the riverside, requiring all my attention. The urge to abandon everything just to ascertain her well-being was overwhelming. In her past life, she often approached things with a light-hearted attitude—surely, she wouldn’t repeat that here. Unlike her previous stern and dry demeanor, the current Wi Seol-Ah bore a considerably different outlook. Although many might say that her present life was more favorable, her insufficient social skills were a constant source of worry. 'Who’s worrying about whom here...?’ I mused over my lack of societal norms, compared to her different set of challenges, which mounted my concerns even more. Perhaps, I had been shielding her excessively. I wished her a life contrary to our previous ones. The actions I took were well-meant, but had they now become an issue? Rather than weighing right against wrong, what mattered was identifying the immediate best course of action—a skill honed through life experience, but certainly not without its faults. ‘It’s indeed difficult.’ Determining the right path wasn't easy; this remained my most profound quandary. Tok. Lost in a sea of thoughts, a faint presence emerged before me. As I looked up, I saw a shadow blocking the sunlight. “It's been a while.” A rough, deep voice filled the air. Before me stood none other than the black-clad figure of Blade King, Peng Zhou. A surprise encounter... 'Who would have guessed he'd approach me?' I hadn’t expected him to engage. I assumed, as usual, that we'd pretend not to know each other—a miscalculation on my part? His gaze on me intensified, spurring my curiosity. It was indeed intriguing for the Blade King himself to initiate conversation. As things stood, I didn't have much of a choice. "It has indeed been a while, Lord Peng," I greeted briefly, observing a subtle twitch on his brow. "So it really is you," he remarked, seemingly skeptical. "Yes, I'm that person," I confirmed, standing out of respect, despite my desire to stay seated. Protocol called for etiquette. “A member of the Gu clan greets the Blade King.” I made a polite gesture of respect with a slight bow. My small act of courtesy seemed to ease the formidable aura the Blade King emanated slightly. Could he truly be pleased with mere etiquette? “You seem to know how to maintain manners better than expected.” It appeared so. What began as a simple greeting seemed to lift his spirits considerably. “Seems you’ve changed from how you were before. Back then, you weren’t worth even a bit.” Or maybe not quite. “Have you matured with time, then?” "Yes, more or less." Though his words stung slightly, I took the hit silently. I was fully aware of my own past faults that led him to speak this way. ‘It's the consequence of my foolish childhood.' I bore the weight of my past blunders. That was only fair, considering he was my former fiancée’s father—and more so, considering I had ended things with harsh words, making our relationship quite strained. Perhaps his knowledge of this made his words sting less intentionally? “I heard you've gotten engaged to someone from the Namgung family.” Of all subjects, engagement it was. “Yes, that's correct.” “The Sword King's daughter... they say she’s called the Sword Dance Princess?” His tone held a subtle, teasing quality, lightly goading me. “The Gu clan is quite something, severing ties with the Peng family only to bind with the Namgung family... quite the impressive feat.” To break off an engagement with Peng's family, only to engage with the Namgung family—a sly insinuation that even after that mess, I still aspired for an alliance with one of the four great families. I allowed a small smile to surface in reply. "Thank you. It was simply good fortune." "What fortune? It’s all thanks to the head of the clan's capabilities." The subtle teasing grew sharper. "There was a time when I thought you were throwing away your fortunes." He wasn't wrong. Had I not spoken out of line, living well as part of the Peng family would have been assured. His assessment was quite accurate. “Now it seems perhaps my child might have been at fault.” “Ha ha... Thank you for the compliment.” His words seemed like praise, yet they were layered with his emotions, evident in the earnestness of his gaze. "Making it this far means you've surpassed barriers. It's a great accomplishment at your age. The future of the Gu clan looks very bright!" "Compared to Lord Peng, it's insignificant." A sly grin spread across his face. Blade King's lips curled upward at the lackluster praise, suggesting he might be underestimating my achievements. It seemed he believed I'd merely broken past the initial barrier by making it through the first round of preliminaries. Little did he know, I had already touched upon a higher state of mastery, a fact I chose to keep concealed. His inability to discern this stemmed not from my deliberate obfuscation, but from his failure to foresee it altogether. I wasn't particularly concerned, though; their ignorance could play to my advantage. Having humored him with some compliments, I thought it wise to sidestep any further confrontation. Just as I considered backing away, Blade King chimed in again. "Indeed, the Gu clan is poised for greatness," he added. "Unlike your clan head, their offspring demonstrate remarkable conduct." The venom embedded within his praise pierced deeper, transforming the playful caress into a stinging blade. 'This bastard.' I barely tilted my head to regard him fully. This was more than just barbed words—a relentless, grinding prick into my flesh. "When I first met you, my concerns were numerous, but your mentor seems to have excelled in your upbringing." “Hmm.” Inwardly, I grasped my wrist, conceding the truth in Blade King's assessment. Yes, I had indeed matured. There was no denying my growth—not when I could stand here, facing his verbal barrage without retaliating immediately. “You must be quite close to our clan head.” “Oh, indeed. We've maintained a strong friendship since childhood.” Then why veil his eyes with such animosity? I barely managed to suppress a sigh. 'If only he had become the leader.' Reflecting upon his failure to seize leadership during his duel with Sword Saint left me wistful. Had Blade King ascended to the helm, negotiating and manipulations would have been far simpler. Alas, the opportunity to toy with him as a mere plaything slipped through my fingers. Attempting to compose myself, I masked my disappointment with a smile. “Not only the Gu clan, but the Peng clan will undoubtedly flourish as well, don't you think?” A wry smirk deepened his expression, possibly mocking my apparent obliviousness. "Most believe a clan's prosperity hinges on its leader. Peng clan is indeed fortunate." “There’s no need to lavish words of sweetness upon me. I am not one to...” "Be it presently unsteady, once Bi-seong Do ascends as the clan head, the Peng clan will undoubtedly soar." “…" "Wouldn't you agree, Lord Peng?" The moment I relinquished my veneer of congeniality, Blade King's eye twitched, his expression cracking slightly. He dosed me with verbal barbs; I simply reciprocated. As if to suggest: ‘Your leadership wavers, but once Peng Woo-jin takes the helm, the Peng clan will stabilize. So please, restrain your nonsense.’ “This brat…” To my satisfaction, Blade King seemed to glean my underlying meaning, his face knitting into a frown. "I’ve met Peng Woo-jin several times. He’s quite an impressive individual." "…Ha…" Though I praised his son, Blade King's features only further contorted into displeasure. The closer his aura pressed, the denser it felt. "At first, I thought it was only a slight resemblance." Ssshhh— The air cracked as tenser energies surged, causing those nearby to brace themselves instinctively—a reaction from martial artists' primal reflexes. "Your words indeed echo that of your father's." I cocked my head, contemplating. Was he genuinely insulting me? It sounded almost like praise. As his animosity amplified, I pondered what had irked him so deeply. Granted, I’d pushed his buttons, but his overt reaction betrayed an unexpected sensitivity. 'Is it my lack as a clan head? Perhaps a parental comparison? Or is the issue something else entirely...' Then, a peculiar sense of familiarity struck me. It might not have been the criticisms themselves. 'Could I be the problem?' More accurately, not me, but... 'Is it related to my father?' Recalling Blade King's simmering fury when he equated me to my father, it appeared that was indeed the sticking point. With that realization, I queried Blade King directly. “Lord Peng. I’m curious…” “What nonsensical question are you mulling over now—?” “Has my father ever struck you?” “…” His sudden rigid stance and the abrupt cessation of his intimidating aura spoke volumes. A marked silence enveloped us, prompting my eyes to widen. "Oh... was it true?" My suspicion was confirmed, perceiving his reaction. 'I see.' Taken aback, I wondered what my father might have done to elicit such vexation in Blade King. 'Father...what exactly did you do in your younger days?' I contemplated how my father came to thrash a head of one of the four great families. Curiosity regarding his past peaked at that moment. A constrained growl emanated from Blade King. His clenched jaw and tight fists emanated a palpable hostility. Yet, after a rare moment for poised deliberation, he reopened the conversation. “…Child of the Gu clan.” “Yes.” “You should be grateful that you stand within the Martial Alliance and under its laws. Were these rules not in place, I'd have you groveling on the ground." Any unapproved combat during preliminaries results in immediate expulsion. That was explicitly stated before the rounds commenced, and Blade King, uttering these words, expected gratitude. “Indeed.” I, too, recognized the frustration in that. "Regulations truly are a saving grace, are they not?" A clueless beast must be beaten into submission, but here we were, hemmed in by rusted chains of civility. Blade King lingered, his glare searing, before finally turning his back. True to his earlier admission, further engagement risked breaching his temper's threshold. It was a pity; had he the temperament of a bull, things might have unfolded differently. Was that truly all he intended by this visit? 'Did he really come just to provoke me?' As a clan leader, he seemed surprisingly unburdened by substantial duties. 'Tsk.' Even from this brief exchange, I gleaned why my father might have dealt with him so forcefully. Suppressing a sigh, I returned to my seat on the veranda. Today was already proving exhausting. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping time would pass swiftly. In the midst of countless watchful gazes, I took a brief respite. It wasn't until half a shichen later that the next part of the exam began. ****************** The sky was painted a soft crimson, signaling the sun's descent. The exam had commenced at noon, and now a considerable stretch of time had gone by. Standing amidst the gathered group, I prepared myself for the next challenge. The first round had concluded, and those who had advanced were summoned together to begin the second preliminaries. “The number of candidates who passed the first preliminary is fifty-eight.” A martial artist from the alliance organized and handed over a document to someone. The recipient was an elderly woman with stark white hair and a piercing gaze that felt sharp enough to draw blood. She skimmed through the document with a dispassionate glance, then turned her stiff gaze and elegantly composed posture towards us. "Cluck, cluck... Greetings. I am Yesun, the leader of the Wind Dragon Squad." At her introduction, there was a noticeable stirring among those nearby. Yesun, known as the Horse-faced Lady, was the only female leader among the alliance's teams and was reputed to be the second-longest serving martial artist after the Sword Emperor. However, she wasn't celebrated for her martial prowess. The Wind Dragon Squad specialized in tactics and strategies, and Yesun was a renowned expert in these fields. As far as combat acumen went, she might be the least formidable among the team leaders. Yet this did not imply weakness. She was perhaps the most troublesome among the alliance’s leaders—a reputation well earned. She had once aided the alliance's strategist, Zhegal Jihee, against Cheon Yu Rang-Ah, making her a formidable adversary with her illusion techniques and tactical formations. In warfare, rather than single combat, her specialty shone through. Yesun’s presence had even compelled the Sword Demon and the Jade King to occasionally set aside their animosity to tackle her together, speaking volumes about her tactical acumen. “Since I'll be overseeing this second preliminary, I hope you will give it your best….” There was no murmuring or chattering in response to Yesun's words, a stark contrast to the first round. This was no time for mere excitement over witnessing any martial prowess; only curiosity and tension about the upcoming trial hung in the air. "The second preliminary will not be as complex as the first," Yesun continued without hesitation. With a thump, her cane drew a long line at her feet. "From now on... anyone who crosses this line will pass." "...What?" "Cross the line?" Remarks of disbelief trickled out. Simply crossing a line? The unexpected simplicity left everyone dumbfounded. Yet, it seemed too straightforward, not what anyone had anticipated. "But I have already set up a formation surrounding this place," Yesun added, causing expressions to grow serious. “You are already within it... escaping will not be simple.” A formation had been laid over the area before we realized. How had we entered it unknowingly? No one had detected it—a testament to Yesun's mastery. As those gathered exchanged shocked looks, Yesun looked away and said, “Since there are fifty-eight of you, I'll need exactly half.” With that, her words turned everyone's gaze sharp. She wanted us to overcome her formation. It seemed deceptively simple yet everyone instinctively knew it would not be easy. “Only the first twenty-nine who cross the line and reach for my shoulder will pass the second preliminary.” Her wrinkled eyes swept through the crowd. “Shall we begin...” “Touch your shoulder?” Yesun paused, interrupted by a question. Annoyance flashed across her face at the request for clarification. “…Yes, crossing the line and touching my shoulder will—” Before she could finish, she fell silent. The voice had sounded unexpectedly close. Tap, tap. A sudden sensation on her shoulder caused her to turn. Our eyes met, and I smiled at her. “Can I go home now?” “…?” There was no reply, just as there hadn’t been in the first round.