725 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

The first thought that crossed my mind upon seeing the tournament bracket was simple: "Why did they set it up like this?" Why on earth did they arrange the matchups this way? It was evident to anyone that the tournament bracket was being manipulated from Meng's side. This was something I realized from the moment they altered the tournament due to additional participants. They must be planning something again. It was merely a justification for his actions, which was something I knew all too well. "But why?" That bracket was not something I had anticipated. Tap. Tap. I pondered, tapping my waist with my fingertips. What on earth could be the reason? "Weren't they planning to pit Shinryong against Dowang?" I had already figured out their machinations long ago. The purpose of this martial arts festival was to ensure Shinryong faced Dowang. Whether it happened in the semifinals or the finals, it was bound to occur. This was something I knew as soon as Dowang announced his participation. And from there, the sequence was expected to be: Shinryong shows good results but ultimately gets eliminated, culminating in Dowang's victory. Such was the narrative I always expected. "Dowang losing doesn't make sense." It's not about the level or skill. "The Meng won't let the Ha Buk Paeng family be defeated." The Paeng family is one of the prestigious houses supporting the Martial Alliance. Should the head of that family appear in the tournament and lose, the damage to the alliance would be considerable. "Dowang must have participated with the Meng's agreement from the start." Dowang is no fool. Or perhaps he is, but not to the extent that a king-level martial artist would participate in a martial festival without benefiting from it. Why would Dowang enter a fight that only promises losses? "Naturally, there must have been some conditions." Maybe it was a favorable condition. Maybe it was a threat he couldn't refuse. But the crucial point is that Dowang has entered. "And that it was intended to elevate Shinryong." Shinryong performs admirably against Dowang but loses. Exposing the advantages of being a high-level martial artist and showing the audience that he can stand up to Dowang in battle. This was my clear and evident expectation. "But an unexpected turn has occurred." Indeed, an unexpected turn. "Dowang has fallen." During the fight with Turyong, Dowang's standing was completely destroyed. The most disgraceful victory in the last decade. Treated like a toy by the strong and later watching the withdrawing Turyong with a scream. Dowang's remaining impact on the central plains was shattered that day. "Though I'm not certain, the Paeng family must be shaking." The merchants who witnessed the fight must have started withdrawing. Seeing the trend, other merchants would have begun to shift too. Given such circumstances, the alliance's plans being disrupted, how they would react remains unknown. Whether they'd stick to the original plan of having Dowang fight Shinryong or come up with a different tactic. I was uncertain. "But to think they'd resort to this." To pit me against Shinryong when it's only the fourth round of the main event. It was an incomprehensible move. "What could be the reason?" Why pit me against Shinryong at this point? It was a variable that hadn’t crossed my mind. Wasn't it? "The Meng must elevate Shinryong somehow." Even if Dowang has become a laughing stock, they must still uphold their responsibilities. To ensure that Shinryong's opponent is formidable but not overwhelming. That's excluding the likes of the notable Dang Soyul or a few others who had exhibited strength in the Bimuje. "There are only about four or five notable figures." If you choose ones showcasing adequate prowess, that's about the number. However, I wasn't included in that. Perhaps... "Did they perceive me as weaker? Hence, the matching?" A possibility, though. "That can't be the case. No matter how incompetent the Meng may be." There were a few instances intentionally showcased. Caught the eyes of the Sword Emperor and the Sword Master, and displayed my strength during the Bimu as well. Despite not showing my full power, no one would think I'm weak. "Rather, they'd have their doubts." How strong could he be? "Especially since the clash with Turyong, they'd be pondering it deeply." Right at the moment when the insignificant Turyong made an uproar. Expectations and vigilance towards all young experts have heightened. In such a situation, matching me, who appears ambiguous, against Shinryong is akin to a gamble. A gamble where no one knows what might occur. "Why gamble when there's an easier path?" For the Meng, it's just absurd. Which makes it even more baffling. "What could be their intention?" I quickly racked my brains. An unknown variable. To address it, I had to somehow uncover the reason. Just as I was frantically thinking,— "Gu So-hyep." "...!" The voice calling my name made me widen my eyes and turn my head. A familiar face appeared. White martial robes with plum blossom embroidery. A mark of the Hwasan School and a handsome face. "...Yeongpung." The most talented in Hwasan, the Sword Dragon Yeongpung. "Ha-ha. How have you been?" He approached with a clear and refreshing smile, as always. This brat... grew even better-looking with age. As if merely being handsome wasn't enough, he seemed taller. I had to try quite hard to attain this height myself... "...Yes, nothing much has changed for me." "Is that so. Ah, I did convey my greetings to Wi sojeo previously... did you hear?" "I did." So it seemed. Wi Seol-ah mentioned having talked about me with Yeongpung before. "I originally intended to see you immediately upon arriving in Hanam, but... some matters delayed my greeting." "It's okay. Greetings aren't that necessary. I didn't do it, either." I knew the Hwasan sect was in Hanam, and that Yeongpung was attending the martial arts festival. Not seeking each other out despite knowing meant I had no reason to apologize either. As we exchanged a few more words,— Yeongpung's expression showed a slight hesitation. "...And about that... last time..." "It's fine." I immediately stopped him before he could voice the tremor he held. He probably intended to apologize once again for what happened at Wudang. "No need to apologize. I've already forgotten about it." When he was angry with me for receiving an attack during the affair at Wudang. It seemed that Yeongpung had held onto his showing of uncontrolled emotions and unusual behavior. “As peculiar as it was,” Given Yeongpung’s personality, it wasn’t like him, yet I didn’t dwell on it much. When I declined his apology, Yeongpung momentarily pursed his lips before saying, "Thank you." He expressed gratitude instead of an apology, which wasn’t necessary either, but it was better than an apology, so I let it pass. “Ah, Yeongpung.” “Yes, Gu Sohyeop?” “Have you ever heard strange noises at night, or perhaps sensed the voice of a grumpy old man?” “Uh…?” He looked puzzled, as if wondering why I would ask something so odd. “I believe you asked me that before... Ha-ha. But no, nothing at all.” “I see.” “Though I don’t know the reason, rest assured. I’m something of a Taoist myself, so if it happens, I could exorcise it immediately.” Uh... Exorcising wouldn’t be a good idea. Yeongpung replied playfully, and I was internally aghast. “What would happen if you exorcised your ancestor?” An absurd statement indeed. Even if not blood-related, it struck me as quite disrespectful. “Anyway, so you haven’t heard any voices?” Despite Yeongpung being the heir of the Mount Hua Sword, he didn’t hear voices like I did. Maybe thinking of Noya after so long brought back memories from the North Sea. “Didn’t they say I’m the reincarnation of Noya?” The body, at least, they claimed. Namgung Myung mentioned it through Woo Hyuk’s body. It felt utterly disgusting. “That cantankerous old man is supposedly my past life?” A truly unpleasant thought. “Gu Sohyeop? What is troubling you? Your expression...” “Nothing. Just unpleasant thoughts that came up.” “Ah… I see.” I felt a bit irritated and quickly shook off the feeling. “Anyway... How’s she doing?” I switched topics to ask. “‘She’...?” “My sister.” “Oh, you mean Sako-nim.” My sister residing in Mount Hua. When I inquired about Gu Ryeong-hwa, Yeongpung’s expression turned slightly awkward. She should have come with him. “She’s probably at her quarters. She seemed... a bit angry, though.” “Angry?” “Well... scolding me for not visiting her, I suppose.” “Ha.” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “How amusing. She didn’t visit me either.” It had already been days since I arrived in Hanam, yet Gu Ryeong-hwa hadn’t sought me out. I had been busy, but what was stopping her from seeking me? “I mentioned that too, but Sako-nim insisted, asking how she could go there...” “…Hmm?” How would she visit? Simply walk over— ‘Ah.’ I abruptly paused as the reason hit me. “It’s because of Lady Mi.” Lady Mi. Since her quarters are nearby, Gu Ryeong-hwa was reluctant to come. “Right.” There was tension between Lady Mi and Gu Ryeong-hwa; I had momentarily forgotten. “Damn…” Damn it. I should pay a visit. I clicked my tongue softly, garnering a slight smile from Yeongpung. “It seems I’ve caused some discomfort with my words.” “I’m not annoyed with you, Yeongpung. Just annoyed at myself.” I merely forgot something I should have remembered, and remembering it annoyed me. Suppressing my sigh, I told Yeongpung, “Could you tell her I’ll visit within three days?” “Of course.” “Thank you.” I scratched my cheek awkwardly after expressing gratitude. I wasn’t suddenly trying to act like a responsible elder brother, but— “I should still care, right?” I couldn’t just ignore her. As I shook my head in resignation, Yeongpung suddenly prepared to end the conversation. “Anyway, it’s been enjoyable, as anticipated.” “Are you leaving?” “Yes. It's unfortunate, but this seems to be the right amount.” Having concluded his business, Yeongpung bowed politely and then spoke to me, his voice steady and sincere. “Our remaining conversations... I hope to continue them on the martial stage.” His words made the corners of my mouth lift. “A challenge, is it?” He intended to fight until we meet on the stage. That intention was clear. “Sure. I’m looking forward to it.” If you can, go ahead and try. I wouldn’t stop him either. There’s something I did back in Shanxi. I had said I’d remain as an insurmountable barrier to pull Yeongpung out of his confines. That resolve hadn’t wavered. Try and overcome it. That was still how I felt towards Yeongpung. “Thanks to that, things turned out well, didn’t they?” After the farewell, Yeongpung walked away, and I regarded his retreating figure with a curious gaze. “He’s gotten stronger.” Yeongpung had grown much more powerful since I last saw him months ago. Whether he reached the state of Enlightenment was unclear, perhaps unnoticeable due to its ambiguity. “Hmm.” While I was contemplating, I turned to my side. “Hey.” “Hmm?” Someone lifted their head at my call. It was Pungsun, leaning against a pole, half asleep. Seeing the drool dribbling from her mouth didn’t exactly inspire endearment. Charming face, yet such a mess— “What do you think?” “About?” “Speak clearly; I don’t want to hear mumbling.” “About what?” “Him. What do you think?” Nodding towards Yeongpung as he walked away, Pungsun looked intrigued and studied him. Then she uttered, “Oh.” A brief exclamation of admiration. “He’s really strong!” “That’s a given.” “Then?” “Think you can beat him? He’s your opponent, you know.” “Hmm.” Pungsun was one who would be fighting the Sword Dragon in this martial festival. Hearing he was her opponent, she gazed more deeply at Yeongpung. Silently. Intently. After a long pause, she looked at me with a slightly vacant expression. “Can I kill him?” “No.” I answered promptly. Hearing my reply, Pungsun nodded and said, “Then I don’t know. It’s uncertain.” Pungsun, who had an exceptional level of self-awareness. If Pungsun speaks with such certainty, then it must indeed be so. So I decided to ask differently. “Well, if you could kill him?” What would happen if she had the chance to kill him? I asked. “In that case.” An emotion flickered across Pungsun’s previously vacant expression. She then smiled, and that smile was— “I win.” It was a disturbingly chilling grin. ****************** Not long after, the fourth round of the main tournament began. Today's event started much earlier than usual. The reason being that entrants from the third round had merged, causing delays. Even with an early start, the end time would be much later. I thought about whether they could spread it out over several days, but seeing as Meng pressed forward as it was, there must be logistical issues. “I don't really care about that.” Having more time isn't a problem for me. Extending it over more days would be inconvenient for me as well, so I wasn't concerned. Boom—!! A loud sound resonated. Looking towards the martial stage, I saw a giant collapse to the ground. He was known as the Ruktan Stone Fist. A fairly well-known, experienced master at the peak of his abilities. Nonetheless, he seemed to have lost to Pyo Ryuk Je Geom. “Kyocheolin from Mu’an Pyo Mun, winner.” Wowww—!! As the referee announced the verdict, cheers erupted. I've heard it for days now, yet their enthusiasm remained intense. I nodded my head at this. "Not bad." Pyo Ryuk Je Geom, Kyocheolin. Turns out he belongs to Mu’an Pyo Mun, a school I’ve never heard of. A lone tradition school, wielding martial arts unfamiliar to me. “His level is just shy of Huageong.” He would soon overcome that barrier. It wouldn’t be long before he reaches Huageong, and judging by his flair, he is certainly someone who could rise among the hundred great masters. An impressive talent. Seems others thought the same, as I noticed merchant representatives moving quickly. “They’re fast.” They were swiftly gathering information on Mu’an Pyo Mun and Kyocheolin. The quickest among them might head straight to talk with Kyocheolin. With the emergence of a martial artist, merchants mobilize. It’s always been this way; the appearance of the Scarlet Demons only exacerbated it. “I should also start preparing things on that side.” I had informed Morong Hee-ah; she would be setting things up. But I also needed to lay the groundwork in due time. Recalling my plan, I spoke to the person in front of me. “It’s almost your turn.” “Yes.” Seongyul nodded at my comment. Once another match concludes, it will be Seongyul’s turn. I turned my gaze ever so slightly to observe Seongyul, who appeared somewhat lackadaisical. Toward the young man standing alone, not mingling with anyone else, in the distance. Pang Woo-jin. The son of the Dowang, whose reputation is rapidly declining. Once known as the previous Shinryong, now called Bisungdo. Silently observing him, Pang Woo-jin noticed my gaze. Our eyes met. And then, as if waiting for it, Pang Woo-jin waved at me. Despite his father's unfortunate state, Pang Woo-jin seems utterly unaffected. There’s something peculiar about him every time I see him. “How could someone like him be born to the Dowang?” They say, ‘like father, like son.’ But Pang Woo-jin seems to be the exception. Perhaps, 'unlike father, unlike son' fits better? Pang Woo-jin was truly an anomalous presence. For a member of the Paeng family, his build was rather small, and his nature far from combative. He resembled his father enough, so he truly was his son. But there was something inexplicably strange about him. "Hmm." I shifted my gaze back to Seongyul after looking at Pang Woo-jin. “Hey.” “Yes?” Seongyul looked at me at my call. His yellow eyes sparkled slightly, his expression seemed pitifully pallid, yet he appeared almost at peace. Would he have been this relieved not facing a disciple from Kunlun? “This brat. I told him to just say something if he felt bad, yet he stands there like that.” Seeing him suffer while refusing to speak up was subtly aggravating. And since he had no intention of sharing, it only annoyed me more. “Really ticks me off.” So, perhaps it was because of that— “Want to place a bet with me?” “Suddenly, sir?” “Yeah.” “…On what…?” It seemed somewhat impulsive of me. “You see your opponent, right?” Seongyul followed the direction of my hand and looked at Pang Woo-jin. “Yes.” “Go beat him.” “What?” “Do whatever it takes to win. Then.” I grinned as I spoke. “I’ll tell you why Qinghae-Ilgoem’s death was the Murim League's fault.” “…!” As soon as I mentioned it, Seongyul’s eyes widened. “That’s why I stopped talking about Qinghae-Ilgoem.” Mentioning it again made Seongyul's expression abruptly grow cold.