727 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

**Heaven's Strongest Rival Chapter 727: North Rabbit - Web Novel Archive** Crack—! Blood spattered over the fractured ground. It was too much blood to be just a mouthful. The trembling body suggested he had reached his limit. He turned his gaze to the side. Beside the pool of blood lay a sword. The swordsman had dropped his weapon, and his body now shook uncontrollably. No further words were needed to paint this scene. 'Hmm.' A world deeply submerged. Pang Woo-jin reacted as he watched the young man kneeling amidst the dull gray backdrop. 'Disappointing.' It was starkly different from what he had anticipated. Jin Im-seok, was it? Pang Woo-jin had held a peculiar expectation for him. He had thought Jin might hold out a bit longer, thereby providing a bit more entertainment. 'Were my expectations too high?' In this utterly disappointing situation, Pang Woo-jin's heart grew cold. Simultaneously, his eyes moved. Leaving his finished opponent behind, he looked beyond the martial stage. Amidst the throngs of countless spectators, Pang Woo-jin turned to locate someone, and it didn't take long to find them. Finding them wasn’t difficult at all. In a gray world, all he had to do was spot the one who shone brightly. 'Ha ha.' Having located a young man, Pang Woo-jin smiled. Still radiating that vast light. In a world so dull and gray, only this young man shone with a blue hue. 'You're as splendid as ever.' When he first saw him, the light was somewhat faint. Merely a smoldering ember. Or a firebrand. From a boy much younger than himself, he had sensed that light. Was it not truly fascinating? Pang Woo-jin was intrigued by that spark. As time went by, the ember clearly flared. It was color. When Pang Woo-jin was ten, he lost the sight of color in the world. Yet, before him flickered a sight imbued with color. 'Beautiful.' Although the once-red light had shifted to blue, its beauty remained unchanged. What’s more, it was not shining alone. Around the blue light, other colors mingled. A daughter of the Dang clan, a name unworthy of remembrance. When he last saw her, she bore no color, yet now, she exuded a green glow. 'Bright.' How could a woman who once had no color possess such a hue now? It was not the first time Pang Woo-jin had seen people with color. Others he had encountered included some noteworthy figures. Cheonan, the head of Shaolin, was one. Byungjae, the guardian of Meng, was another. Was it the martial prowess of these warriors that manifested as color? As a child, he had thought so, but Pang Woo-jin soon learned otherwise. His own father. The head of the Pang family bore no color. Yet, the great martial god of the Central Plains, famed as the strongest, displayed color instead. 'Then, what is color?' If color was not determined by strength differences, by what reason did he perceive it? Living with this question perpetually, Pang Woo-jin never found an answer. He merely came to a realization. 'It is resplendent.' In a world where color had vanished, the colors he saw were incredibly enticing and mesmerizing. He had long forgotten why he could see them. What mattered now was their existence—and nothing else. In a lost world, it was akin to a strand of light. Perhaps that’s why Pang Woo-jin’s life transformed. Individuals without color began to appear as dust. They no longer felt human. Even if they had hearts similar to his, without color, recognizing them was hard. They were not worth remembering. They were nothing more than stones scattered on the ground. No more, no less. Could his father be any different? Despite inheriting his father’s hair and eye color, Pang Woo-jin had never deeply contemplated his father. Could it be because his father is a feeble head? Or perhaps because he struggles so impotently yet disgracefully? Neither. It’s simply because he possesses no color. Those without color hold no interest for him. Blood ties made no difference. His incompetent father and useless siblings were none of his concern. Only his sister, Pang Ah-hee, with her faint hint of color, could exchange words with him. So, how desirable is it, truly? 'A being who creates color around them.' He had seen people lose their color but never anyone creating it, until he noticed people gaining color next to that young man. Therefore. 'I hope you also have something to show.' Pang Woo-jin watched the opponent who had risen once more with a smile. Trembling limbs. Leaning on his sword as if it were a crutch, he looked utterly miserable. [Please do me a favor.] Before ascending the martial platform, Gohyangcheon had made a request, piquing his interest. If not for that, he would not have engaged in this endeavor. 'Perhaps.' Even without it, he might have done the same. This is because the young man before him also possessed color. However. 'Too faint and insignificant.' A dying ember. The color felt from this young man was swiftly fading. Simultaneously, Pang Woo-jin's interest waned. 'What indeed do you expect from him?' A single strike would suffice. For Pang Woo-jin, the moment to evaluate the man's worth was enough with that. The presence of color might have provided a slightly favorable view, but to hold any particular expectation raised questions. Behold. Isn’t the color fading even now? Though he stood and gripped his sword, it was clear to the eye. The fighting spirit was absent. What remains in a martial artist wielding a sword without fighting spirit? Nothingness. That was akin to emptiness. 'What a pity.' This time, it seemed he was mistaken. Thinking so, he raised his sword. An agreement is an agreement. Thus, he would also gain what he desired. Swoosh. He swung using the flat side rather than the edge. He intended to end it in a single blow. The moment he moved, however— Snap. “…!” Quickly withdrawing his swing, Pang Woo-jin leapt backward. “…Hmm?” A rough leap of five or six steps, putting that distance between them. Pang Woo-jin narrowed his eyes, wiping the smile off his face as he stared at his opponent. A broken stance. A still trembling body. Yet nothing had changed. Pang Woo-jin had to squint at his opponent. 'The color.' The mist-like color that once rose and fluttered had vanished. However. 'What's this?' Why did he appear so vivid? Though the color had vanished, somehow the young man seemed clearer than ever. What on earth was happening? As Pang Woo-jin pondered this enigma, realization came quickly. 'Ah, I see.' The color hadn’t disappeared—it had transformed. The hazy yellow that had previously arisen faded away, and a thick black hue intensified around the edges. The moment Pang Woo-jin noticed this, a powerful surge— "Ho." The young man named Jin Im-seok was engulfed in darkness. Pang Woo-jin turned his gaze toward the referee. The referee below the martial stage was as stoic as ever. Merely verifying whether it was the moment to intervene. Which meant, of course, that this transformation wasn't visible to others. "Hahaha. So, it's like this again." Pang Woo-jin chuckled brightly upon realizing this. 'It seems I was mistaken.' He was wrong, and the young man was right. The revelation was so exhilarating it left him momentarily dazed. Crrreeeak. The young man moved. Jin Im-seok, who seemed to have reached his limits, began to stir his body. Appearing so dark that even his facial expression was unreadable. As Pang Woo-jin watched Jin Im-seok with interest, "Ah." Jin Im-seok uttered a brief word as he moved. In that moment, his eyes emerged. Shimmering yellow eyes. As soon as he saw them— A chill ran down Pang Woo-jin's spine. And then an overwhelming aura erupted from Jin Im-seok's body. 'This is.' Pang Woo-jin tilted his head slightly as he recognized the force. 'Killing intent.' The fierce aura was entirely killing intent. How could he possibly exude such an immense amount of killing intent? It was a spectacle that warranted awe, yet he couldn't simply stand there, stunned. Pang Woo-jin laughed and raised his sword. WHOOOSH—!! In an instant, Jin Im-seok charged at Pang Woo-jin. Screeeeech—!! Sword clashed against sword. In that instant. CRACK—! "Huh." Pang Woo-jin’s foot cracked the arena floor as he was pushed back. 'What is this?' A strength vastly different from before. Crrrrunch—! The once-insignificant sword strokes now bore pressure. Pang Woo-jin shifted his grip and redirected the force. Screeeech—! Jin Im-seok’s sword grazed past, gliding along the flat. After deflecting the assault, Pang Woo-jin primed himself for another strike. But then— Whoooosh—!! “!” Suddenly, Jin Im-seok's killing aura bore down on Pang Woo-jin. Sharper than a blade. Witnessing this, Pang Woo-jin adjusted his stance and swung rapidly. Black Smoke Chaos Blade. The sword imbued with his energy unleashed a wild flurry. Clang-! Clang clang-! Clang-! Each swing parried the killing aura, blocking every attack. It wasn’t a difficult feat. Yet, Pang Woo-jin's expression was not entirely pleased after defending. ‘Fascinating.’ The intensity of the killing intent was far greater than expected. Almost like breaking through scrap metal. ‘It must be killing intent, yet it rivals internal energy.’ What on earth was this martial art? Pang Woo-jin tilted his head curiously. Swish-! By then, Jin Im-seok's attack had grazed Pang Woo-jin’s cheek. Blood spattered briefly into the air. ‘Faster than before.’ Much swifter compared to the initial encounter. The power and even the speed had increased. 'At this point, he might as well be a different person.' And so was his swordplay. Slam—! Thud-! Initially, his sword was fragile yet disciplined, but now Jin Im-seok resembled a beast. He swung solely on instinct. The killing intent imbued in his blade was unmistakable. Too crude to be called swordsmanship, but the intent and force were so potent they turned savage. “Haha-!” Pang Woo-jin laughed heartily. Instead of retreating from the killing intent, he pressed in closer. Swish—! Splat—! The ruthless aura grazed and tore at his skin. Despite the instant heat of the wounds, Pang Woo-jin seemed unfazed. His own body was heating up in response. ‘This is fun.’ Why had the young man suddenly changed like this? Such concerns no longer mattered. ‘This is delightful.’ At last, it was enjoyable. Pang Woo-jin’s eyes focused solely on Jin Im-seok's. The mesmerizingly shining yellow eyes. Even with killing intent saturating his gaze to a nauseating degree, it was only beautiful to Pang Woo-jin. “I'll kill you. I will kill you.” He appeared not to hear Jin Im-seok’s muttering at all. Clang-! Clang-! Clang-! Pang Woo-jin’s precise dances sliced through the killing intent methodically as he advanced. Switching between pressure and release, mixing in feints, but Jin Im-seok slipped through them like a phantom. He thrust his sword. Slash—! A shallow attack cut into Jin Im-seok’s shoulder. The feints hadn't worked, so he left an opening intentionally to attack. In response, Jin Im-seok drove deeper inside, leaving a wound. “I’ll kill you.” Jin Im-seok extended his sword in return. Thrust—! His sword pierced straight into Pang Woo-jin's shoulder. It accurately penetrated the skin and emerged through the other side. “Very well.” Pang Woo-jin declared as if unfazed by any pain, gripping Jin Im-seok’s hand tightly. Grip—! “Huff…huff!” “Hahahahaha—!!” Being so close, Pang Woo-jin couldn’t swing his sword at Jin Im-seok. Jin Im-seok’s sword was lodged in Pang Woo-jin’s shoulder, rendering movement impossible. Neither could fight as long as they maintained their grip. And whoever let go first would suffer instant retaliation. “Well, what now, Jin...!” As Pang Woo-jin determined there were no more options, his eyes widened. Crunch—! Without a hint of hesitation, Jin Im-seok bit into Pang Woo-jin’s neck. This prompted Pang Woo-jin to release his sword. Then he swung his empty hand, striking Jin Im-seok’s abdomen. BANG—!! A shockwave erupted, sending Jin Im-seok tumbling across the ground. “Pfft.” Retaking a stance after rolling a couple of times, Jin Im-seok spat something out. Flesh and blood. Seeing this, Pang Woo-jin rubbed his neck. “...” A wound had formed. It wasn’t in a vital area, so it wasn’t critical, but it was undeniably a rough injury. Had he not let go and pushed Jin Im-seok away, it could have been quite perilous. “…I did not expect this.” Who would have thought he’d bite into someone’s neck in such a situation? This was no longer a fight—more like a beastly brawl. "Truly... truly... this is wonderful." Pang Woo-jin wiped the blood from his mouth, his face radiating with exhilaration. Colors filled his vision. The killing intent Jin Im-seok emitted enveloped the surroundings, within which his dazzling yellow eyes shone brightly. Just those two colors alone filled Pang Woo-jin's world. "More." He couldn't contain himself. "Show me more." Desire pushed him forward. "Please, show me more of your colors." Rrrrrumble. The sword began to howl menacingly. Wooooong— As the noise erupted, energy gathered at Pang Woo-jin’s fingertips. Dribble. Blood trickled from his neck and shoulder. Pain surged through him. Like being devoured by poison, the agony intensified, but Pang Woo-jin laughed. For now, even pain was a form of ecstasy for him. "Huff... huff..." Meanwhile, Jin Im-seok’s condition was only worsening. The volume of killing intent he released decreased, yet its concentration grew denser. It seemed he was beginning to adapt and control it. Whoosh. Whoosh. The sword in Pang Woo-jin's hand spun slowly. 'Indeed.' How far could that one show him? Gohyangcheon’s request had long vanished from Pang Woo-jin's mind. How far could he push? How long could he endure? 'How brightly can he shine?' As they fought, the colors became more vivid, tempting the question: How far could they go? He wanted to see it. The urge to witness it was driving him mad. "So show me." Show me the extent of your brilliance. Wooong—!! Jin Im-seok, who had been growling, experienced a shift in his sword. The murderous intent he exuded began converging onto the blade. Was this, too, a martial art? Pang Woo-jin's breath came in harsh gasps as he watched. Jin Im-seok’s eyes blazed like lit torches, further igniting his resolve. Seeing this, Pang Woo-jin marshaled his whole energy. He had intended to reserve this power for a significant encounter yet found himself compelled to unleash it now. Black Iron Ten Thousand Arrows. Pang Woo-jin prepared to employ his ultimate technique. This was to acknowledge Jin Im-seok's worth. Energy gathered as tension mounted. The intensity between them reached its peak, on the verge of eruption. Huff—! Jin Im-seok's body suddenly swayed. “Grr.” "Huh?" Thud. With a brief cry, he collapsed to the ground. Jin Im-seok fell upon the stone floor. "Wh-what...?" Pang Woo-jin was momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events. "What is this—!" Jin Im-seok appeared unconscious, unmoving. The potent killing aura dissipated abruptly. The once-vibrant color faded. His darkened form returned to its original state, the only remaining color a dull yellow. “…No.” Pang Woo-jin, filled with trembling disbelief, stepped forward. The referee had already ascended the platform to assess Jin Im-seok's condition. After a quick evaluation, he raised his hand and announced. "Pang Woo-jin of the Hebei Pang family. Victor." What followed was a blur. Whether cheers erupted or silence settled over the crowd, Pang Woo-jin couldn't discern. All he knew was, Instinctively, he turned to look at Gohyangcheon. And Gohyangcheon, having discovered something precious, looked upon the fallen Jin Im-seok with a smile.