718 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith
Title: The World's Greatest Martial Artist's Childhood Friend - Chapter 718: The Northern Rabbit The air hummed with a dull resonance as the blade sliced through it. Though the speed lagged behind most swords, the immense size and durability of the weapon exerted a pressure as formidable as Mount Tai. Especially when wielded by someone who has surpassed the pinnacle of martial arts, known as 'Hwa-Kyung'. The single drawback of the weighty weapon transformed into an asset as its destructive power spiraled. BOOOOM! The ground shook as the Sword King’s blade slammed down. CRACK! Fractures spread across the solid surface, sending shards flying. Even a simple swing wielded tremendous destructive force. But the assault was far from over. “Hup!” A short breath. With it, the Sword King’s body spun. Black Sword Wind (흑도풍림). In the midst of a half-turn, a dense sword energy burst forth. CRASH!!! The powerful energy swept through the surroundings, showcasing its overwhelming might. It was an awe-inspiring scene, fittingly focusing on sheer destructive power. “What on earth…!” “What is that…?” The audience was more stunned into silence than expressing surprise. Was everyone marveling at the Sword King’s might? No, not quite. In fact, it was the opposite. The crowd was speechless as they watched the Sword King’s opponent. His opponent was Tu-ryong (鬪龍), known as a descendant of the legendary ‘Paejon’ from the Seoanbi clan. Normally, it was expected he wouldn't even be able to match up, let alone scratch the Sword King. Even though he was Paejon’s descendant. This was the consensus among the audience. “The Sword King’s aura is so fierce, yet…” “It makes no sense.” Everyone watched the scene unfolding as if in a dream. And for good reason. “Did he not move a single step? How is that possible?” The arena was in chaos from the Sword King’s assault. Yet there was one spot that remained untouched. The place where Tu-ryong stood. Since the duel began, Tu-ryong had planted himself in one spot and hadn’t moved. He simply stood there, deflecting the Sword King’s attacks. Or should I say, he deflected them with ease? ‘He’s flowing like water.’ Not just blocking, but flowing past them. He redirected the Sword King’s movements and brushed aside the sword's force, not allowing any approach. The only thing that changed was he released his arms from behind his back. Tu-ryong was stopping everything the Sword King threw at him. Standing like stone in his place. ‘…A monstrous old man.’ I sighed with disbelief as I watched. Astonishment gave way to pure shock. It was absurd just to watch. Could I do that? Objectively speaking… ‘Impossible.’ The answer came immediately. It’s beyond me. At least for now. While dodging was possible, standing rooted in place and doing so was out of the question. Yet here was Paejon, with a rank lower than mine, doing it effortlessly. ‘Crazy old man.’ I, too, have unlocked the Mind’s Eye, but doing what he does? No way. Even if one could predict movements, doing so without moving oneself is an entirely different story. Of course, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t block at all. He blocks when necessary, yet transforms situations needing blocks into ones he can flow through. “Grit!” The Sword King’s weapon infused with energy. The size of his sword energy was tremendous. It seemed like he intended to sweep everything away right in front of him. Seeing this, Paejon moved. He slightly extended his hand, slipping into the gap between the energies. At that moment. Thud! “…!” The Sword King’s sword path altered, the energy brushing past Paejon’s head. The audience displayed bewilderment on their faces, unsure of what just transpired. Did the Sword King make a mistake? Of course not. Paejon simply redirected the path with ease. ‘Ridiculous.’ Easier said than done. This is no simple feat. With a Mind’s Eye, it becomes clearer. The Sword King unleashed overwhelming energy, showcasing his prowess and unleashing numerous energy paths. A power that could cause fatal injury even with a mere graze. Paejon plunged into that flow without hesitation, causing the Sword King’s movements to falter in an instant. Confidence exuded from him. He acted with an unshakeable belief that he would not fail. Without such confidence, none of this would be possible. And doing all this while standing firmly rooted? ‘He told me to fight cautiously.’ Doing something so bold, yet giving such advice to others. But even with these thoughts, my eyes remained fixated. ‘Ha.’ I thought the martial arts tournament was terribly boring until now. To capture every move of Paejon, my gaze was drawn intently. ‘This old man is doing it on purpose.’ I understood Paejon’s intentions long ago. Even with brief movements, he was showing me his intent. [Watch carefully.] As if to show me the path I should take, his entire demeanor conveyed that intention. Not missing even a single breath in battle. With that determination, as I was watching the duel unfold. -Watch and learn. As if waiting for this moment, Paejon sent me a telepathic message. -It’s a good learning opportunity. Along with his message. Silkily. Paejon’s previously stationary foot moved. A single step. Tap. Paejon’s toe stepped forward and touched the ground. At that moment. Thump! “…!!!” The Sword King’s body suddenly lifted off the ground. --- Fate had favored him. That’s what everyone said about Peng Zhou. Born into the Hebei Peng family, Peng Zhou was indeed fortunate. Born as the family head’s child, and even more so at a time when the current head, Peng Tae-woo, doted on his wife immensely. So devoted was he that, despite his wife’s frail health producing only Peng Zhou, he did not take any concubines. As a result, the typical sibling rivalries to become the heir were unnecessary. From birth, his position as the future head was secure. Seeing this, the elders and warriors of the family all remarked to Peng Zhou: “How lucky you are.” While it sounded pleasant, Peng Zhou knew it was not a compliment. Perceived as a position gained through sheer luck despite lacking talent. Peng Zhou was acutely aware of the true meaning behind those words. They were words he had heard countless times. As a child, such remarks could only breed resentment within Peng Zhou. Decades passed as he lived submerged in inferiority. Despite this, luck favored him, and he ascended to become the family head just as predicted. He inherited the title of Sword King, though he wasn't well-regarded among his peers in the Council of Six. Nonetheless, he was far from someone who would be defeated by a mere 'late-bloomer' like Tu-ryong. Or so he believed. BOOM! “Agh!” Overcome by the searing pain that pierced his body, Peng Zhou stifled a groan. He clenched his aura, though fractured and weak, around his form. CRUNCH! The shield he barely managed to erect shattered promptly. However, this was anticipated. Sacrificing his aura, Peng Zhou spun his body. He attempted to capitalize on the recoil to continue his offensive. SMACK! “…!!” His knee suddenly buckled, breaking his momentum. A foot had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, pressing down on his joint. THUD! CRACK! His lower body collapsed, leaving his upper body exposed. A fist brushed against him twice in quick succession. The first strike made a sound. BOOM! “Ugh!” The intense pain followed suit. One hit to the chest. Two punches to the abdomen. Peng Zhou's body twisted from the impact. The assault did not relent. The foot that pinned his knee pressed harder. He tried his best to withstand it, but his buckling leg couldn't be stopped. His body sank lower. His upper body drew closer to his opponent. CRACK! His head was snapped to the side. WHAM! The hit to his ribs made his upper body throb violently. The bones inside felt as though they might shatter. “Grrr—!!” Swallowing his groans, the Sword King strengthened his footing. He knew if he crumbled any further, recovery would be impossible. With that desperate determination, he held on fiercely. His eyes cast a piercing glare beyond his twisted head. Fists continued to strike. Seeing this, the Sword King tightened his hold on his weapon. His blade immediately darkened into black iron. Black Iron (흑철). One of the elite techniques of the Hebei Peng family. Normally, in a situation like this, it couldn't be wielded with such a stance, but now wasn't the time to pick and choose. All he desired was to create distance from Tu-ryong. With that singular focus, he swung his blade. “Tch.” Tu-ryong clicked his tongue at the sight. Was it because the situation was unexpected? Perhaps, yet the raw emotion was unmistakably visible. Disappointment. That feeling was evident in Tu-ryong's eyes as he looked at Peng Zhou. ‘…What is this?’ How could such a young one dare look at him with such eyes? Anger that had been bound seethed within the Sword King. He wanted to cut him down. To slash the neck of that insolent boy. Yet. CLANG! “…!” The blade jutted violently as if repelled. Tu-ryong had altered the angle by striking the flat side of the blade. CRACK. The edge of the sword embedded itself into the ground. Try as he might, Peng Zhou couldn't pull it free. Pressing down with more force might help, but Tu-ryong didn't allow that chance. With his foot, he struck Peng Zhou's chest powerfully. THUD! “Ugh!” The impact caused Peng Zhou to release his hold on the sword and roll across the ground twice. He quickly gathered himself and assumed a defensive stance. Expecting another wave of attacks, yet... “…?” Nothing happened. Tu-ryong hadn’t moved from where the sword lay impaled. Seeing this, Peng Zhou furrowed his brow. “You fool.” Tu-ryong addressed Peng Zhou. “…What?” Peng Zhou's eyes widened in disbelief at the remark. What? A fool? Was that supposed to be directed at him? As Peng Zhou prepared to scoff in disbelief, Tu-ryong continued speaking. “The air currents were completely twisted, and yet all you did was struggle pointlessly.” Tu-ryong showed no signs of stopping, addressing Peng Zhou persistently. “Black Iron (흑철) requires a high degree of internal energy manipulation. Even the previous family head maintained a refined stance when using it. Who are you to try altering it? You’re truly audacious in your incompetence.” “You wretched…!!” Unable to contain his fury, Peng Zhou rose, gritting his teeth. “How dare you mention anyone before me!” Insult piled upon insult, and Tu-ryong seemed to offer him unsolicited advice. Something as a mere 'late-bloomer' should not dare to do. “You brat…! It's remarkable that your talent is noteworthy. Are you trying to impart wisdom to the Sword King?” While he spoke those words, none of it felt truly remarkable. He blocked every move, toyed with him effortlessly. See now. Even the audience who gasped and sighed in amazement were now engulfed in silence. The previous duel between the Divine Dragon and Moon Blade was a flurry of intense action. Yet this duel between Tu-ryong and the Sword King held none of that. A crude match devoid of any elaborate techniques, strictly a battle of raw martial arts. Not because Peng Zhou couldn’t employ his flashy skills. Tu-ryong had effectively blocked every opportunity to do so. ‘How is that even possible?’ Even as anger festered, Peng Zhou was left trembling in disbelief. His speed was superior. His strength was unquestionably higher. These were facts apparent after a single clash. Yet he couldn’t catch him. Not only that, he couldn’t even graze him. It was all a perplexing sense of disarray. What was this situation? Why was he being bested by that wretch? As his pride crumbled and Peng Zhou lost grip on his senses. “Learning?” Tu-ryong spoke to him. His voice laden with unmistakable disdain. “You think I’m here to teach you?” The upward curve of his lips was a blatant sneer. “Why would I waste precious teachings on someone like you?” “...!” “Know your place. To me, you aren't even worth that much.” Hearing those words, Peng Zhou almost let go of his last grip on sanity. At that moment, Tu-ryong grabbed the blade embedded in the ground and hurled it. WHOOSH CRASH-! The swiftly flying sword embedded itself into the ground beside Peng Zhou. “Take it. A warrior should never let go of their cherished weapon.” “Ha…!” Gazing at the sword beside him, Peng Zhou's face turned scarlet with shame. “You insignificant wretch… Daring to mock me?” “Hmm.” Grinding his teeth, Peng Zhou glared as Tu-ryong nodded slightly. ‘Too late.’ He thought to himself. For that man, it was already too late. Even after displaying a substantial portion of his power, his opponent continued to look down on him. The anger simmering within Peng Zhou refused to subside; rather, it flared with intensity. It seemed that it would only extinguish once Peng Zhou's very essence was completely consumed. He was already damaged and nearing his downfall. ‘…What a pity.’ The regret wasn't for Peng Zhou. ‘I declared to my disciple that this would be a useful lesson.’ I had hoped for something more impressive. Seeing him like this brought nothing but disappointment. ‘Perhaps I've grown dull with age.’ I fell for a misconception, believing he would be more formidable. But he turned out to be far more insignificant. It seemed that even the novice monk from Shaolin, touted as the Divine Dragon, might have been a more worthwhile comparison. His skills might surpass others, but a person who has lost their worth is no better than trash. To Paejon, Peng Zhou amounted to precisely that. ‘Perhaps I should have shown more restraint.’ Despite twice confirming the circumstances, I failed to regulate my strength properly. I wondered if using less force would have been better. Moreover, a past request surfaced in my mind, unsettling me. -Should the opportunity ever arise... I humbly ask you to give my son a chance, Senior. Years ago, this was a favor sought by the former head of the Peng family, Peng Tae-woo. ‘I had forgotten about it.’ A request I wouldn't have considered seriously under normal circumstances. The only reason I even retained it in my memory was because Peng Tae-woo had left a favorable impression. Actually, not remembering until now means I can't even claim to have held onto it. ‘This is bothersome.’ And that sentiment was all I felt. It wasn't something I needed to feel guilty about. It wasn't my responsibility that Peng Tae-woo’s son turned out to be lacking. “Hmm.” What course of action should I take? As Paejon briefly deliberated, GRRRRRRR—!! Peng Zhou clasped his sword tightly and rose, mustering his energy. The sword, darkened with Black Iron (흑철), emitted a dark haze around him. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you," he declared with lethal intent. Murderous malice consumed the arena, a truly intense aura. Despite his shortcomings, Peng Zhou was an upper-echelon martial artist, among the top hundred. When he summoned his aura and murderous intent, the atmosphere became palpably tense. At a glance, it was a dangerous situation. Paejon simply watched without intervening. In fact, he found it rather advantageous. ‘I needed to show something anyway. This works out well.’ Any less action might have seemed suspicious, but this way seemed acceptable. ‘For a renowned master to worry about how they appear to someone.’ And regarding the perception of his disciple, no less. It was an odd feeling, not unpleasant but unexpected. These sentiments arose because his disciple held such value. Swoosh. Paejon gently extended his hands forward. His gesture resembled the act of grasping an invisible sphere. As he did so, a breeze lightly stirred at his feet. His hair fluttered, and gradually energy began to converge at his hands. Observing this, Peng Zhou's jagged breathing indicated his readiness. The aura surrounding Peng Zhou surpassed Black Iron, forming an enormous sword energy. Black Iron Great Silent Steel (黑鐵大黙鋼). A technique of the Peng family passed down through centuries. With highly condensed sword energy, it could devastate not just the opponent but the surroundings as well. Peng Zhou's sole focus was eradicating Tu-ryong, pouring every ounce of his energy into the strike. The power imbued with the presence of the Sword King. Those watching felt their bodies tremble at the overwhelming display. Instinctively, they recognized the perilous nature of the attack. “Haa… haa…” Doing his utmost to endure his own aura, Peng Zhou's breaths grew increasingly strained. With trembling hands, he began to swing his sword. SWISH! A catastrophe cleaved through the air. As the compressed energy parted the air, a sizzling sound echoed, releasing a burst of steam. The energy could no longer contain itself and began to erupt. It poured forth like a pillar set to topple upon Tu-ryong. Yet, Tu-ryong's expression remained free of fear. He focused solely on completing the sphere in his hands. Once it was finished, “It's done.” He smiled, satisfied, glancing at the gray sphere in his grasp. By then, Peng Zhou's attack was already upon Tu-ryong. Just before the sword energy crashed upon his head, Tu-ryong clasped the sphere lightly as if clapping. Snap! Tu-a-pa-cheonmu (鬪牙破天武). His ultimate form. Pa-Cheon (破天). CRASH——!!! With Paejon’s clap, the heavens seemed to split open.