712 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith
The Greatest Under Heaven's Childhood Friend, Chapter 712: Northern Rabbit - Web Novel Archive "You are Shaolin's hope." This was a phrase Yuyon had heard countless times while living his life in Shaolin. From the day he first showcased his talents, up until the present day. By the time he realized it, he was already being called Shaolin's hope. "A mere ten-year-old has mastered the Hundred Steps Divine Fist." "Not just in mastery... The rate at which he improves is on another level." "The heavens have bestowed him upon us. Surely, he will rise to become the greatest under heaven one day." It was only later that Yuyon discovered the elders of Shaolin had held numerous meetings discussing him. He didn’t know what the higher-ups had spoken about, but Yuyon had received the Great Elixir not once, but three times in his life. Typically received once in a lifetime if at all, Yuyon had received it thrice. He received one at age twelve, having mastered the Hundred Steps Divine Fist. At age fifteen, upon reaching pinnacles in his skills, he received his second. By age eighteen, he received the final elixir, reaching the level of Huajing. The Martial Alliance swiftly grasped Yuyon's condition and spread word throughout the central regions. The youngest Huajing had been born, heralding the arrival of a comet destined to lead Shaolin. Thus, Yuyon's name spread across the land. Divine Dragon. Before he knew it, Yuyon was being called the Divine Dragon. Perched atop the summit of the Six Dragons and Three Peaks, he became a symbol of the times, a young prodigy representative of his age. Upon hearing this news, Yuyon went directly to the abbot. Why was he called the Divine Dragon? he asked, his heart full of questions. The abbot, Cheonan, only told him that he dreamed of a future unseen. That it was a choice made for a future that needed change. His words made little sense. Yet, Yuyon did not rebut or argue, simply because it was the abbot's will he had to follow. Still... It was regrettable. The stage of the Yongbong Gathering he once witnessed. He hadn't stood upon that stage, so what meaning could the name Divine Dragon truly hold? Yuyon regretted this. Moreover, what meaning lay in a reputation built on falsehoods? Yuyon was aware there was a lie mingled with his name. How could he not be? He had seen it all with his own eyes. "Sansuyu defeats Guoyangcheon." The protagonist who had dominated the stage with overwhelming prowess during that Yongbong Gathering. And the one who stood with noble dignity, having seized victory. "Wowww!!" From afar, Yuyon's eyes burned. The cheers resonated in his ears, invading his mind. Such was Yuyon's memory of the Yongbong Gathering. Those sights engraved themselves deep in his mind. Back then, Yuyon, younger than he was now, felt his heart ignite watching it. The boy on stage, with an impassive expression, as if displeased by something. That sight left an enormous impact on Yuyon. What could be said? Victory won amidst the crowd's cheers. But as if it held no significance to him. Those actions and expressions deeply embedded themselves in Yuyon's brain. Why was that? Unclear. It simply happened that way. Had he not stepped outside of Shaolin in rebellion that day and secretly viewed the Yongbong Gathering, he never would have known. But he saw it. And through that sight, he became aware. Or perhaps he had already known from the moment they bestowed upon him the name Divine Dragon. Even while elders praised him as a genius, or as hope lifting him up, Yuyon realized. He was not. The Divine Dragon. He was not. A true genius. The real one was already beyond, out in the world. Unlike himself, who cowered in a cage feeling trapped, real wings had already spread open. Then, where were his wings? "Divine Dragon? What Divine Dragon." With a self-mocking laugh, Yuyon curled in tighter. If he had wings, he would’ve plucked them himself. What meaning lay in wings given by others? Yuyon believed there was none. It felt stifling, suffocating. To release that emotion, Yuyon embarked on a shallow escapade. "You are hope." "Shaolin's hope." "It's fortunate to have you." The words he heard countless times a day pierced like daggers, driving into his heart. Unable to endure, he fled outside. Though outside merely meant roaming within Henan, even that felt like rebellion to him. That day was winter. Before Yuyon bore the name Divine Dragon. Snow fell, and the world was cold. His hands felt frozen. Dressed lightly, the biting chill felt unusually harsh. Though he shivered and trembled, it was fine. He could’ve enclosed himself within his internal energy to warm up, but he didn’t. He wanted to feel the cold a little longer. At least, compared to suffocating feelings, this was better. "Haa…" He blew onto his cold hands, the warmth he created seeping in. Warmth made by his own effort. That subtle resonance reverberated as Yuyon rubbed his hands. In that bitterly cold winter, when personal growth mattered less than such things. That’s how Yuyon was back then. Perhaps it was the reason why it happened. "What are you doing here?" It was at that time of solitude that a pivotal encounter occurred. Hastily, Yuyon glanced up, pulling a piece of cloth over his face to obscure it. "...!!" Upon seeing the owner of the voice, Yuyon's eyes widened instinctively. It was him. The person he’d seen atop the Yongbong Gathering stage. Now called the True Dragon. He’d heard they were the same age. Who would've thought they’d meet here. He regarded Yuyon with a curious gaze. "In weather like this, what are you doing here?" "I... I..." At his question, Yuyon found himself at a loss for words. Wearing even thinner clothes than Yuyon was, his outfit appeared damp with sweat, and his face held an expression of fatigue. Was it just an illusion? Meeting him gave the feeling that the chill receded. It was as though the temperature around them had risen. "Hmm." Watching Yuyon's inability to respond, he nodded lightly. "Have you eaten yet?" ... Again, Yuyon did not answer. But, as if it were not important, something was already in his hand. "If you haven't eaten, have that. It's good. I come here just for these." He smiled broadly as he spoke. And Yuyon had to lower his eyes to the warm food laid upon his hands. It was a dumpling. ... A piece of meat lay on the palm of someone who abstained from eating it. Yuyon was taken aback, confused about what he should say, but the young man had already walked off into the distance. Should he call out to him? Yuyon pondered for a moment. "Master, did you buy that again?" "Yeah." "I told you I would buy it for you." "It's fine. I had a reason to come out. Oh, but there are some strange rumors at the inn…" A woman appeared and began speaking to the youth who had started walking away. Witnessing this, Yuyon found himself unable to call out. He simply stared at the dumpling resting in his palm. ... If there was an issue, it most certainly began then. That moment when he couldn't resist rebellion. It must have been the root of the problem. "…" Yuyon glanced at a severed portion of his belt lying on the ground. When had it been cut? He hadn't seen the sword approach, nor had he felt the attack land. "Focus." A woman's voice echoed in his ears. Yuyon raised his head and looked ahead. A woman with golden eyes and hair. A beauty who made his heart race just at the sight of her. The Greatest Sword under Heaven. The successor of Sword Master We Xiaojun. A trace of the once-best martial leader, and one of the obstacles he had to overcome. Or rather, not his personal obstacle, but... "The challenge of both Shaolin and the Martial Alliance." Yuyon already anticipated the alliance's intentions. Thinking about it made him feel stifled again. He wanted to bolt from this place and rush to the inn. He wanted to eat a dumpling. This had become Yuyon's habit since that fateful day. Whenever feeling suffocated and trapped, escaping Shaolin to savour a dumpling was how he comforted himself. However, he couldn't indulge in such freedom now. So, Yuyon steadied his breathing calmly. After counting to three while observing the woman, he naturally began chanting in his mind. Her allure was bewitching. Without any immunity to such charms, it was a tremendous challenge for Yuyon. Swiftly. Instead of speaking, Yuyon assumed a fighting stance. He slightly extended his left hand forward, adjusting his lower body. "Thank you." Rather than a mere apology, he offered gratitude. "Thanks to you, I've come to my senses." Barely. He barely managed to hold onto his senses. He repeated to himself. The reason he was here, trying to keep it in mind. Sssrukk. Seeing Yuyon's stance, the woman, Weisera, too readied herself. At that moment, Swoosh---!!! An immense aura showered upon Yuyon. It felt as if dozens of sword ends were targeting him. It was terrifying. Cold sweat flowed instinctively down his temples. Feeling that intimidation, "Phew…" Yuyon exhaled softly. And simultaneously, Sssssk. He extended his fist slowly. To Weisera, it appeared languid. As she watched the slow motion strike, her brow furrowed suddenly. It wasn't due to the simplicity of the move. On the contrary, it was the opposite. Shhiik-! Weisera moved swiftly. Her movements were purely evasive. And that choice was the correct one. Thud… Yuyon's fist met empty air. At that instant, a mountain crashed where Weisera had been standing. Boommmm---!! “…!!!” The referee standing outside the arena widened his eyes. A storm was whipped up by a single punch. "The Hundred Steps Divine Fist!" Someone exclaimed from the audience. "It's Shaolin's Hundred Steps Divine Fist…!" A divine art, within a single strike with overwhelming destructive power. A technique where a punch renders everything back into nothingness, a sacred Shaolin art. An extreme martial art that only a few monks of Shaolin could utilize, Yuyon executed it with mastery. With just one move, Yuyon validated his presence. "Waaahhh!!" Cheers erupted. The youngest Huajing. Yuyon was beginning to show the worth of his illustrious name. "..." The cheering was reminiscent of that day. Even while hearing it, Yuyon’s expression remained placid. Their voices didn't reach him. His eyes darted rapidly. Tap. He sensed a presence. Yuyon immediately turned his head. Shwik-!! A sword blade grazed his cheek. He turned his head, letting his body spin. Using the momentum, he solidified his stance. Whirl-! His foot sliced through the air. Boom-! Yuyon's foot clashed with Weisera's sword, a flare of energy erupted. Kaboom-! The roar was thunderous. The impact resonated enough to cause the audience stands to quiver. The palpable tension gave the spectators goosebumps. After the first clash, Weisera opted to deflect the attack rather than confront it directly. 'Powerful.' Her opponent was too formidable. Whoosh-! She adjusted her grip on the hilt, redirecting Yuyon's attack along the sword's length. She intended to close the gap intimately. Swoosh-! “…!” But at the moment of her decision, Yuyon's fist was already approaching Weisera’s face. She lifted her head to dodge. Boommm-!! The Hundred Steps Divine Fist erupted, narrowly brushing past Weisera. The air wafting past felt like it could tear skin. Weisera, with strained eyebrows, released a powerful aura. A golden hue radiated. The invigorating energy of the Moonsword encircled Weisera. Her movements accelerated. Energy enveloped her sword. And Weisera’s hair began to shine. Kikik-! She executed a footwork technique, slightly widening the distance. The Hundred Steps Divine Fist had a long range. With caution, she adjusted her sights. "Hup!" Yuyon too shrouded himself in energy. Sssssd! The vigor of their energy was so fierce, it generated steam from friction. An aura in hue similar to the golden glow of the Moonsword surrounded them. Yuyon and Weisera, clad in their respective auras, faced each other. "…" "…" No words were exchanged. They weren’t needed. In the previous engagement, they had communicated all that was necessary. Rumble-! The martial artists' energies intertwined. The resulting vibration shook the stage and dust rose into the air. Weisera’s once-gentle eyes turned sharp, and sweat dotted her skin. Staring down each other momentarily. Thud. Slowly, a bead of Weisera's sweat rolled down her cheek, reaching her chin. It dropped to the ground. Plop. As the droplet hit the ground, Shik-! Boommm-!! The two martial artists clashed. ********************* Boommmm---!!! An astounding torrent of a formidable aura. It resembled a gale amidst a storm. Winds mingling with gold and yellow clashed and swirled. Crash-! Boom-! The ground vibrated with an intensity as if an earthquake had struck. The power was ferocious, yet it carried an undeniable weight. Both fighters wielded so much internal energy that even the same movements had an impact on a different scale. "G-gah…" "Isn't that… an unbelievable fight…?" "What…! Is this really a battle between young prodigies?" Awe turned to astonishment, as disbelief was hard to come by. Facing what seemed like an illusion, everyone was left quaking in their boots. The battle was so fierce that even the martial artists fighting next to the stage paused to watch the spectacle unfold. Flash-!! A lightning-like brilliance shone. Weisera's sword light flickered dozens of times per second. It resembled stars twinkling in the night sky. In contrast, Yuyon's strikes were much fewer in frequency. Thud-! Boom-boom-! Amidst the flashes, a singular reverberation. However, in terms of sheer force, it couldn't be compared to mere numbers. Each of his strikes was enough to shake the entire precinct. The Hundred Steps Divine Fist, infused with enlightened martial philosophy. A single strike akin to the singular solar strike of the Subduing Heaven Dance. Given the similar activation and execution, it's likely… 'The internal energy expended must be comparable as well.' The difference lay in their focus; the Divine Fist emphasized destruction, whereas the Subduing Heaven Dance was about tearing apart. Though the difference might seem significant, ultimately, the feeling is similar. High power and immense vibration meant substantial consumption of internal energy. And the Divine Dragon used such power in succession. 'How big is his pool of internal energy?' It's something I can handle easily thanks to fortuitous encounters in the past. But who is this guy, using something others call a deadly art as if it were a simple move? It's absurd. Is he insane? 'Is this how others feel when they look at me?' Suddenly, that thought crossed my mind. Boommmmmmmm!!! Each burst of the Hundred Steps Divine Fist tore through the air. The enlightenment contained within, as well as the condensed energy within, was awe-inspiring. Yes, awe-inspiring even to me. 'Shaolin… these crazy bastards.' What on earth has Shaolin created? Watching the battle between the Divine Dragon and Weisera, I can only chuckle helplessly. The reason was none other. 'This is different from my past life.' As a demon monk in my previous life, Ghost Monk— I hadn't encountered him much. Only caught a glimpse when he died. The Ghost Monk back then was undoubtedly strong. That much cannot be denied. He was so strong that even a celestial being had to be dispatched to defeat him personally. However. Was the Divine Dragon so formidable during his prodigy years? Uncertain. Well, he must have been strong. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been called "Divine Dragon," transcending Shaolin's reputation. But still, even so… "Who the hell is he?" He wasn't at this level. After all. 'How is he using the Divine Fist…?' The Divine Dragon, albeit imperfectly, had indeed touched upon the realm of Emblem Imagery (心像).