716 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith
Title: Chapter 716 of "The Littlest Friend of the World's Greatest Warrior" - Northern Rabbit The Blade King, Peng Zhou. He was once the esteemed representative of one of the Four Great Clans, now known as the Three Great Clans, as the head of the Hebei Peng Clan. In his prime, he was known as the Ink Dragon, a formidable force in the latter half of his youthful awakening. Upon leaving his youth behind, he became the Iron Dragon Lord, renowned during his activities for the alliance. A martial artist of the Hua realm, his skills rank among the top hundred masters. In the past, he garnered high evaluations in battles against dark factions. Even now, he is considered a master not lagging behind his prime. However. Though he ran for League Leader several times, he failed every single attempt. This signifies that: 'His martial prowess is commendable. He has a decent standing and harbors political ambitions.' His disposition is strongly tyrannical and combative. 'Easy…' He's an easy person to read. This indicates that as a warrior, he might be formidable, but as a clan head, his abilities fall short. 'In that regard, the Sword King would be slightly preferable.' Although his position within the clan may be lower, he has a knack for cunning, unlike the Blade King. This might come across as an insult, but it's a necessary trait for a clan head. 'That's where the Blade King fell short.' It was this facet that became an issue, costing him the league leadership regardless of his standing or abilities. All is well. If he were merely an average character, that would be the end of it. But then. 'Why did he participate in the tournament?' That question lingers. The Blade King has nothing to gain from being here. Status? He already has plenty. Fame? No amount of success in the tournament will add to the Blade King's reputation. There's nothing for the Blade King to gain in this tournament. Everyone is assured of this; they simply choose not to dwell on it. Why? 'Because it's intriguing.' The spectacle of the Blade King displaying his martial arts in the tournament captivates people. And among those watching. 'There will be plenty tied to the League.' So I ponder. This event serves only the League's interests. No matter how naive the Blade King might be, would he be oblivious to this? Certainly not. Thus, there was only one conclusion. 'The Blade King entered the tournament to cooperate with the League.' A request. Or a collaboration. Perhaps even coercion. It hardly matters what it is. The important fact is that the Blade King complied. Therefore, he must be considered an ally of the martial arts league. Whether by circumstance or by choice. [Hebei Peng Clan’s Peng Zhou vs. Xi'an's Bie Yijin.] "..." Looking at the names on the board, I stroked my chin. 'Hmm.' How did it come to this? I tilted my head in confusion. 'What are they planning?' When they paired Shin Ryong and Wi Seol-ah, their intentions were clear. But now, it's less obvious. Was it just a random match-up? 'Doubtful.' Such skepticism is understandable. Rumors had spread about Turyong being a disciple of Pejon. Surely, they wouldn't use such an important card for mere promotion... unless... '…No.' I suddenly realized. 'This makes the promotion even more effective.' The narrative of Pejon's successor being beaten by the Blade King. They might be banking on that. They probably aren't expecting Turyong to win. 'Though it's not impossible.' Given Shinryong and Wi Seol-ah's track records, they might have anticipated some unexpected outcome. But it's unlikely. 'At most, it's about a young dragon beating a respectable king.' There's no precedent for such a victory in history. No one would expect it. 'Since they don’t know the true nature of the old man.' With narrowed eyes, I looked at the black-haired young master. Despite his gentle appearance, his eyes and nose were that of the renowned successor of Pejon, whose moniker was the Defeated Exalted, hidden within this gentle facade. "...It’s interesting, two successors of the Exalted gathered together." "Hasn't the Crescent Moon Sword already reached the Hua realm? How about Turyong?" Their presence alone draws all eyes here. Should I cast some kind of barrier? I considered briefly. "So then, what shall we do?" Pejon addressed me. "What do you mean?" Pejon, upon hearing my response, faintly smiled. His expression was intimidating; his lips smiled but his eyes did not. "That daft fellow from the Peng Clan." "…Are you referring to the Blade King?" "Tsk, King is too grand a title for such a buffoon." His biting remark made me chuckle dryly. To Pejon, the head of the Peng Clan was nothing more than a fool. "His father was somewhat capable. But the son, not so much." "You mean the previous Blade King." The former Blade King, Peng Tae-woo. He passed away over a decade ago, the former head of the Peng Clan. "Yes, his sword was heavy, and he had the characteristic magnanimity of his bloodline." Hearing it felt like listening to an old tale. Pejon's stories of the past were like that. Unlike now, when he lived, peace was elusive, and wars with the dark factions raged on. "But screwing up in the next generation is truly regrettable." His expression wasn't all that sorrowful as he continued speaking in a nonchalant manner. "However, that one is somewhat promising." Following Pejon's gesture, my gaze shifted. It was fixed on the seated Blade King, and the young man beside him. It was directed at Peng Woojin. "Unlike his father, he's quite competent." For Pejon to offer such praise, it meant Peng Woojin was, without doubt, an extraordinary genius. "Hmm." As Peng Woojin subtly raised his head and made eye contact with me, he sensed my gaze. And in a flash, he smiled broadly and waved my way. "Gu Gongja!" "..." Goodness. Did he have to shout? Reluctantly, I nodded in greeting. Meanwhile, the Blade King glanced at Peng Woojin. When he did, Peng Woojin awkwardly smiled. It seemed like he was told to shut up via telepathy. "Heh-heh." Amused, Pejon chuckled. "What a peculiar fellow." "…" "Indeed, for a martial artist to soar, they must relinquish a weight or two. Having it all makes one too heavy to fly." "That's such nonsense. That sounds like a crazy person struggling to sound wise-!" Slap. "Ugh!" Damn it. I got hit on the shin at the worst possible moment. As time went on, the reprimands became more frequent. Maybe it was time to instill some good behavior... "You do realize that's not exactly true most of the time, don't you?" For someone who constantly beats me, pretending otherwise seemed disingenuous. "If that were enough, you wouldn't be in this state." "This is how I'm innately wired. If beating me could change anything, it would have done so long ago." "Ah, well aren't you the clever one." It's just how our bloodline is. If a few beatings were enough to fix things, neither past nor present lives would have been this challenging. "Anyway. What exactly are you after?" "What do you mean...?" His cryptic way of speaking was hard to follow, prompting a sigh. "Should we send that fool up?" "…!" I tensed for a moment at the mention of Pejon. His expression was unchanged. With eyes as dark as mine. I swallowed slightly, looking at Pejon. '…A sly old man.' He seemed solely focused on perfecting his martial arts. Yet, Pejon was subtly observant. He was the same even now. "It doesn't matter. Do as you wish." "Hmm, is that so? Alright." He yawned, indifferent. His confidence right before a duel with the renowned Blade King was baffling. His words implied that he'd determine the outcome of the duel at his discretion. Could Pejon, even in his current state, overcome the Blade King? Of course, I entertained no such doubts. He was Pejon, after all. That name was more than enough. '…Let’s set that aside.' I shifted my gaze to Seong Yul, who had been fidgeting so much that I couldn't help but notice. I slapped the back of his head. Smack-! "Ugh!?" Startled, Seong Yul's eyes widened as he looked at me. "Hey, calm down, Jin Gongja. What's gotten into you?" "…" "You're going to mess up big time at this rate." "…Ah." Though meant as a warning, it changed nothing about Seong Yul's demeanor. 'Hmm.' He looked terribly nervous. Was it the anxiety of facing someone from the Kunlun sect? Or purely meeting them that caused this? It was uncertain. 'At least... the other side doesn't seem interested.' The martial artists from Kunlun didn't seem concerned about Seong Yul. It was odd. Aren't they familiar? ‘I dug around, but there wasn't anything significant.’ I often gathered information about the Kunlun sect, but there was never any mention of Seong Yul. In fact, there were no mentions regarding the Heavenly Killing Star. ‘It seemed like Qinghae First Sword was looking after him.’ Why was there no mention of Seong Yul? It was puzzling. ‘Even considering Kunlun's precarious situation, it’s unusual.’ After the death of Qinghae First Sword and the rise of a new sect leader, Several occurrences took place, and the sect's stabilization was the current focus. 'They must have been unable to come in greater numbers.' Though they expressed intent to participate in the League's tournament, given the sect's situation, It seemed less than ten representatives from Kunlun attended. That was a testament to Kunlun's not-so-favorable state. 'Is there something going on?’ Chaotic events everywhere. Ami sect facing turmoil, and if Kunlun has issues, it spells disaster. ‘All the Nine Great Sects are in disarray.’ Unbeknownst, their state wasn’t good. Especially given the stature of such revered places. 'This much disturbance from slight shaking.' The martial sects, laying roots for centuries, now in such shape. At least some, like the Mount Hua Sect, might still be in decent condition. ‘Yet amidst such a state, the Martial Arts Alliance hosts a festival.’ This is chaos itself. In gilded splendor, rotten insides lay hidden. Anyone with little insight could tell. Their handling was a sight to behold. ‘Sigh.’ Left without much to say. I just gave Seong Yul's shoulder a random pat. “Oh, just in case." “…Yes?" "Be careful." Seong Yul's eyes fell slightly at the warning. "…Uh, yeah. I'll try to keep my identity under wraps." "What are you talking about?" I corrected him before he went off on a tangent. "Watch your strength, idiot." "Huh?" "Think carefully before you strike. You can't just swing like you do when sparring with me." "…?" "Understand?" "Yes, yes… got it." He seemed completely lost. Is this going to be okay? "…" I debated explaining more but decided to keep quiet. He will figure it out, I guess. With that notion, I let the moment pass. ————— I left the waiting room and headed elsewhere. It was a section designated for watching the duels. I had been there before, although this time the location was slightly different. The League had arranged a designated area for those who reached the finals to watch. I looked up. There was shading. It was a much different facility from the general audience seating. ‘They’re making no secret of the special treatment.’ Perhaps it was a token of appreciation for making it to the finals? Viewed simply, that could be the case, but the reality was starkly different. ‘Reaching the finals… In other words, showing promise.’ They could be descendants of a renowned family. Martial artists backed by a significant merchant guild. Or simply exceptionally talented freelancers. The Martial Arts Alliance had prepared for this foresightfully. ‘People have always liked special treatment.’ As was ever the case, this time was no different. The major merchant guilds supporting the League. The heads of famed families, sect leaders. All will observe the finals from this dedicated pavilion. They will witness the special treatment firsthand too. Perfectly executed one might say, but… 'Sickening.' So brazenly blatant a display, it churned my insides. I found a spot and sat down. Unlike last time, there was more space. This time, I didn't take the schedule sheet, though it was offered. Everyone who needed to remember already had. Settling in, time passed by. "…Next, we will commence the third round of the finals…" The referee, who had ever so quietly climbed to the platform, stepped up to open the event. As soon as the announcement ended, martial artists began to appear on stage. The key difference this time was that only one platform was being used. 'From the third round onwards, the standards are expected to be higher, so they want us to focus more.' There could be various reasons, but thinking about it too much was tiring. I simply propped my chin with my hand and concentrated on the stage. I could feel the eyes of the martial artists around me watching, but I ignored them. 'I wonder.' Could today's bouts proceed without any hitches? That was my sole concern. ***************** A young man leisurely wrapped a bandage around his hand. Meanwhile, outside, there were consistent, rough sounds, accompanied by tremors that echoed through the space. Yet the young man seemed unfazed. Once the bandage was fully secured, he inspected his hand thoroughly. "Hmm." With a satisfied nod, he seemed content. The young man's name was Bie Yijin. The second child of the Xi'an Bie family, renowned as the Fighting Dragon. "Not bad. Even though it’s been a while since I last wrapped them, they’re neat." After dusting off his hands, he began to roll his shoulders. He needed to properly loosen his body. If he didn't, 'I might lose control of my strength.' He had to maintain a fitting appearance, yet this inadequate body struggled even with controlling its own strength. If he wasn't careful, his own power could tear his skin apart. 'Eh, tsk tsk.' There was only lament to be had. And he couldn't tell anyone about this situation. He was in this state due to his own choices. As Bie Yijin was loosening up, waiting for his turn, "You seem quite tense." Someone addressed him. Looking up, he saw a burly figure, a head taller than himself. It was someone Bie Yijin knew well. The Blade King, Peng Zhou. Head of the Peng Clan and Bie Yijin's opponent. He approached with a welcoming smile. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen." "…" Bie Yijin gave the Blade King a peculiar look. Silence passed between them, and then Bie Yijin clasped his hands in a formal greeting. "A member of the Bie family greets the head of the Peng Clan." "Yes, and how has the head of the Bie family been?" "He's well." "The last time I saw him was years ago. He must have grown stronger since." There was an underlying sense of condescension. It subtly conveyed the Blade King's low regard for the Bie family head. 'Hmm.' Noticing this, Bie Yijin's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I heard that your elder became a disciple..." "Yes." "How curious. I remember the elder saying he wouldn't take on any students." Indeed, there was a time when that was said. 'Back then, I didn’t think it was necessary.' Especially during a time when overconfidence reigned. He believed that no one but himself could grasp his martial arts. How embarrassing. "As times change, so might the elder." "...I suppose so." Feeling a tinge of shame, Bie Yijin cleared his throat slightly. "It's been a while since I've seen the elder. Is he well?" "Very much so." So well, in fact, he seemed to have regained his youth. Damn it all. "Haha, that’s good to hear. I remember the elder thought highly of me back then. Good memories, indeed." "…" Hearing this, Bie Yijin forced his head to stop mid-motion. When had that been? No such memory existed. 'Was it when Tae-woo brought you as his child?' Around the time the former clan head introduced a boy as his child. A crying child had once gazed at him with teary eyes. Was he five back then? He had cried so much, he soiled himself. "He praised my martial arts ability and encouraged my diligence…" That never happened. In reality, he advised the former clan head that the child’s talent seemed lesser than his, urging him to encourage hard work. Even if a child lacks intelligence, they could still be endearing. But this one wasn’t even a bit charming. "Anyway, it looked like you were too tense, so I came over to ease you. I've also heard you're a student of someone I respect." "…Thank you for your consideration." Bie Yijin smirked inwardly. He'd unwittingly become associated with being close to the Blade King. Pat, pat. The massive hand of the Blade King lightly tapped Bie Yijin's back. "Well then, let's meet again." After the Blade King left, "…" Alone, Bie Yijin pondered deeply. 'What should I do?' He had planned to maintain moderation. 'Hmm.' He felt sorry for his lacking student, but... It seemed that mere moderation might not suffice.