737 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

**Chapter 737: Northern Rabbit - From the Web Novel Archive** "The return of the Ilryong Unit is reported." A man spoke. The lord of the Ilryong Unit, Song Jong-ho, addressed the Alliance Leader, known as the Sword Master. "Yes, did you return safely without any issues?" "Indeed." Thirty members joined at Nasong. No casualties. A few sustained minor injuries, but nothing overly severe. Their ability to execute orders near flawlessly. Living up to being the most reliable figure next to the Sword of Justice in the Alliance. "You've worked hard." "It is nothing. It is simply an honor to work for the Alliance." Song Jong-ho replied resolutely, and the Sword Master nodded in acknowledgment. He then began to move, prompting Song Jong-ho, who had been standing by, to follow him. "What is the state of the man?" "He's been subdued and confined in a secret chamber." "Was any information gleaned along the way?" "..." At the Alliance Leader’s inquiry, there was a brief pause before Song Jong-ho responded. "He’s a tight-lipped man; we couldn’t extract much information. I apologize." "Hmm." The Sword Master hummed softly in response. It was disappointing, yet he didn’t blame Song Jong-ho. 'Is he so formidable that even Sa-eum Sword couldn’t get him to talk...?' Sa-eum Sword, Song Jong-ho. He earned this moniker because those who heard his blade’s song met their demise. While the name carried a somewhat sinister connotation, he once came from the ranks of assassins yet had long served as part of the righteous Murim Alliance. An assassin-turned-righteous man. As such, he was the Alliance's hidden dagger. Or a shadow known by many names. ‘If Sa-eum Sword failed, that must mean he’s quite a character.' Such failure to extract information was indeed surprising. The reason for sending Sa-eum Sword was his specialization in such missions. ‘Troublesome.’ Indeed problematic. Though many means were still available, should they fail to profit in the end, the Sword Master had limited options to choose from. In the worst-case scenario, they'd need someone more specialized than Sa-eum Sword. ‘In the current situation?’ The issue was that such a person was none other than the Poison King. Originally, the Tang Clan handled the darker facets of the Alliance, torturing prisoners to extract information. However, with the Tang Clan’s crimes exposed and the entire family exiled, seeking help was no easy task. ‘Tsk.’ The Sword Master frowned at the tangled situation. ‘There must be a way.’ Even with the current complications, a solution had to be found. They couldn’t allow the situation to get any more convoluted. ‘...’ As thoughts flooded his mind, a figure suddenly came to the Sword Master's mind. A young man who had subdued a monster from Shaolin and became the most famed figure in Hanam. ‘...So-yeomra.’ The son of that hero from the Gu family. The Sword Master gritted his teeth silently at the thought of the boy, now past the age of twenty. 'To think he would best the Divine Dragon.' The Sword Master knew that So-yeomra was an exceptional martial artist. However, he hadn’t anticipated that he would defeat the Divine Dragon. The reason was straightforward. ‘...Having faced him directly, the Divine Dragon was by no means weak.’ The Sword Master had faced the Divine Dragon unofficially, enduring combat to test himself. What was the worth of that boy? How exceptional must he be for Shaolin to have such confidence in him? Moreover. ‘Can that boy truly become a symbol?’ In the forthcoming Murim Alliance, after the aged Ten Grandmasters and Three Sages step back—could he qualify as a symbol of the righteous faction? That was the question he aimed to answer. The Divine Dragon had passed the exams, earning the Sword Master's approval. With overwhelming prowess that couldn’t be explained by his age and techniques like White Step Divine Art and Yellow Goose Descends. Even without the Alliance’s aid, he was promising material to become a symbol himself. With assistance, he would rise faster and higher. Thus, the plan was gradually formed, and the Martial Arts Tournament marked its inception. A plan to establish the Greatest Martial Artist under the heavens. Central Plains, disturbed by the emergence of the red demons. To stabilize it once again with the Murim Alliance at the center, a focal point was necessary, and the plan was to bind it to the existence known as the Divine Dragon. ‘Even the Divine Dragon couldn’t contend with him.’ Few could have predicted that the Divine Dragon, with his overwhelming presence, would suffer such a crushing defeat. The Sword Master still couldn’t forget those moments. The intense aura that oppressed the surroundings gradually. The immense killing intent that was unbefitting of a righteous man. Those who witnessed it all must have thought the same thing. The Divine Dragon was remarkable. The way he still attempted the fight against such a being was truly commendable. Though it was a duel between martial artists, facing such an abnormal opponent highlighted the extraordinary nature of the Divine Dragon. A genius, a monster. Words like these couldn't capture the indescribable presence. Ouyang Cheon, as the Sword Master saw him, was a person of that caliber. Thus, even more questions arose. ‘...Cheonan. What exactly did you see?’ Cheonan, the head monk of Shaolin. Why did the one who claimed to have foresight plead for such a match setup? Given the circumstances, the Divine Dragon should have risen further a couple more times by that point. Intended to conclude by losing to the Poison King. ‘That boy ruins everything.' Then and now. Yet again, it was the Gu family? Memories of past incidents he'd rather forget resurfaced. With his brows remaining furrowed, the Sword Master proceeded onward. And finally, he arrived at the Murim Alliance's underground prison. Creak—!! As he pushed the heavy door open, an unsettling noise echoed, revealing the inner chamber. “The Ilryong Unit greets the Alliance Leader!” Thump, thump, thump—!! All present knelt before the Sword Master. He acknowledged them with a slight nod and looked ahead. In the distance, visible. A giant restrained entirely by chains. The owner of the nauseating aura sensed immediately upon entering. "Hmph." The Sword Master slowed his approach, taking in the sight. The man hung his head low, trying to steady his breathing. Though seemingly not dead, his limbs appeared to be completely severed at the joints, with no other visible wounds. Surrounding him, for reasons unclear, were piles of weapons and torture devices, all in disrepair. The Sword Master extended his hand. Swiick—! Clank! A brazier from the floor soared toward him, the heat still emanating from it as if it had just been lit. "It seems some work has already been attempted." Were those broken devices used for a similar purpose? If so... 'Why is this man unscathed?' For someone supposedly tortured, apart from his ligaments, the man showed no visible wounds. What could this mean? The Sword Master glanced at the unit leader, prompting Song Jong-ho to offer a hurried explanation. “…His skin is extraordinarily tough. We've tried everything, but it’s difficult to inflict any damage.” "Huh, even with your skills?" “…I apologize.” An unbelievable statement. Listening to him, the Sword Master immediately seized a nearby sword and swung it without hesitation. Bang—!! “…” The sword struck the man and bounced back. The blade couldn’t pierce his skin and shattered instead. “Huh…” Even without channeling his inner strength, it was surprising that the blade broke so easily. Could his skin truly be akin to steel? Swish. The man, once subdued, seemed to awaken upon impact, lifting his head. "…Hah, that tingled..." The Sword Master flinched, meeting the man's gaze. Rough and unkempt beard. A sallow face suggesting days without food. Yet it was his eyes that stirred something within. Purple. The man's eyes were a striking shade of violet. "…I was sleeping quite well, yet you insist on waking me." The Sword Master narrowed his eyes at the remark but quickly recognized the man. 'That's right.' The appearance matched the report precisely. A faint green robe and a colossal body. With his favored weapon, a crescent blade—the man was undoubtedly the one. 'He is the one who assaulted Wudang.' The man who stormed into Wudang, killing an elder and wreaking havoc. A bizarre martial artist leading the cult known as the Demon Sect. A servant of the Heavenly Demon. "I'm glad to meet you. Do you perhaps know who I am?" "Heh heh..." The man chuckled at the question. "Ah, pardon… It’s amusing to think the great Sword Master would believe I wouldn’t know." "I'm glad you’re aware." "Oh, I know quite well." As he spoke, the man's violet eyes faintly glimmered. "The owner of a long-rotten root. The end of a sage who lost his beliefs. Isn't that who you are?" Shwii—! Clang—!! Before he could finish, a blunt object flew at the man's head, striking him hard. "Do not dare to wield your filthy tongue so carelessly, prisoner." It was Song Jong-ho's doing. Yet. "Heh heh…! Now, that one did make me tingle a bit." Even then, the man only raised his head, seemingly unscathed. Watching him, the Sword Master questioned further. "Are you truly the one who invaded Wudang, assassinating an innocent elder and murdering the head of our Hubei branch?" "Keh keh…" The man chuckled again at his words. The Sword Master's expression darkened, just as he was about to react. "Sword Master, you should tell it as it is." "…What?" "Yes, I did it. But calling them innocent? Such a shameless claim." Clang—! The man moved, causing chains to rattle. Immediately. Srrng—! Those around them drew their swords simultaneously. "I purged those who were festering the decaying Central Plains. Was that truly a crime? Sword Master, are you fit to label me a criminal?" "What crimes did they commit, then?" "Pretending not to know, ah? How typical of the head of the righteous sects." Twitch. With those continued provocations, the Sword Master felt his patience nearing its end. He felt an urge to immediately decapitate the man with his Dao blade. No matter how bizarrely sturdy his body was, severing with inner force was hardly challenging. However, it was impossible to keep the precision needed for torture—to either kill or save, but not both. Perhaps that's why the man acted this way, knowing this well. He was smarter than he appeared. "What is your identity and purpose?" Yet, he maintained extreme patience. It had to be done by any means. “A cleaner.” “A cleaner?” "A cleaner purging the filthy and ugly righteous sects. That is our identity and purpose." Heh heh heh—! The man’s laughter made those around him flinch. The emotion in the sound was incredibly heavy. The Sword Master disregarded the man’s words. Useless as information. Cleansing the righteous sects? No one in history had achieved that. Not even the one known as 'Iron-Blooded Warlord.' “…I've heard you’re backed by someone called the Heavenly Demon.” Twitch. At the mention of the Heavenly Demon, the man's body subtly trembled. The Sword Master didn’t miss the moment. "Does his purpose align with yours?" "The likes of me can’t even fathom his purpose." "Hmm." Indeed, madness. That's how the Sword Master defined the man. What, indeed, was the Heavenly Demon? In collaboration with the Beggars' Sect, they concealed the Demon Sect’s actions, yet the damage was becoming evident. More so with Wudang’s attack history made it unavoidable. "Then, where is he now?" "…" Where was this so-called Heavenly Demon? What was his purpose behind these current actions, with such poor timing? In response, the colossal man simply stared at the Sword Master. The Sword Master met his gaze without flinching. Before long. “Wait for him.” The man grinned sinisterly as he spoke to the Sword Master. “Before long, he will reveal himself without you having to seek him.” “...” “All you insignificant beings must do is await his decree of doom.” Words laden with decisive accuracy and emotion. Hearing this, the Sword Master gazed at the man with a low glance before turning away. There was no need to listen further. "Chief Song, Ilryong Unit." “Yes, Alliance Leader.” "Please ensure he stays alive,” the Sword Master instructed. There was more he wanted to ask, but time was pressing. He had duties that required his immediate attention. As the Sword Master took a step away, the clanking of chains resounded behind him. The ominous sound marked the resumption of torture. A brutal and violent act. Even hearing this, the expression on the Sword Master’s serene face did not change. ‘The Heavenly Demon?’ His mind was consumed by this entity referred to as the Heavenly Demon. ‘What could it possibly be?’ What was its purpose for committing such vile deeds? Moreover, ‘Coming here personally?’ Recalling what the giant man had mentioned, the Sword Master stroked his beard in contemplation. ‘Preposterous.’ This was none other than the heart of the righteous sects. Hanam, the headquarters of the Murim Alliance—a place no enemy would dare approach. Among the countless beings that had caused bloodshed throughout history, none had attempted such a bold act. Could this Heavenly Demon truly manage it? ‘Impossible.’ He was certain of this. Thus, with intensely lit eyes, the Sword Master pondered. ‘Heavenly Demon. I do not know who you are, but it will not be long.’ For the sake of the place and goal he had painstakingly cultivated, He was determined to find and eradicate this Heavenly Demon. ****************** Hanam. Waiting room at the headquarters of the Murim Alliance. "Ahh-choo!" Seated there, I let out a loud sneeze and wiped my nose with my hand. Then, scratched my ear with a pinky finger. "Oh... My nose is itchy." I wondered where such nonsense was coming from, making my nose and ear itch so much. Was someone speaking ill of me? There had been so much gossip that I no longer cared who said what. "Hmph." After sniffing once more, I glanced around my surroundings. A sight I had grown accustomed to. It wasn’t yet noon, and once again, I found myself inside the Alliance's halls. The reason was simple. Following the recently concluded martial arts tournament, I was here to compete in the top sixteen after taking some rest. The top sixteen already. It meant only a few competitors were left, signaling the tournament was nearing its end. "Hmm." As I sat in the designated chair, sniffling my nose, my eyes carefully scanned the surroundings, a smirk barely held back at what I saw. ‘The aura here is truly perilous.’ Killing intent emanated from all sides. To have reached the top sixteen meant each contender here was at least a master at the peak. The atmosphere they created was thick and suffocating. Moreover, everyone seemed preoccupied with minding each other. Some had closed eyes, others stared quietly at the ground, while some focused on polishing their swords. Though their eyes remained still, their senses explored around, monitoring each other. Each one sly and slippery without exception. Particularly, ‘I might get indigestion at this rate. Stop glaring already.’ The numerous auras aimed at me were overwhelming. The duel with Shinryong must have left quite an impression on them. ‘Tsk.’ Even on my way here, the crowd had been a little much, becoming a bother. A few days prior, I could walk around unnoticed, but suddenly, they swarmed madly, recognizing my face. I contemplated if I should start using disguise techniques or stealth skills next time. ‘…Life of the famous….’ It was somewhat similar in my past life, though the nature was different. ‘Back then, they approached wanting to kill me. Now, it’s different.’ I was no longer a vile and loathed demon, but a promising prodigy under the spotlight. It was a feeling, neither entirely bad nor good. Was I secretly enjoying it without realizing it? The thought left me feeling slightly pathetic. In spite of all the years passed, here I was, old enough for such nonsense. It almost seemed foolish. And so, I decided to let out a bit of frustration. Hoo-wook—! “…!!” “Kuk!!” “Gah…!” I played a trick on the presences observing me. I tampered with the flow of chi, reversing it. It wouldn’t result in internal injuries, but the sudden reversal startled those around, causing reactions to erupt. Most abandoned their pretense of calm, turning their eyes towards me. Among them, four did not react. One suppressed his reaction. The other three truly hadn’t been watching, which meant everyone else had been watching me. Auras quickly retracted, genuine gazes now directed at me. Seeing this, I grinned widely and spoke up. “It’s much easier to just stare directly, don’t you think? Peeking around is just too unsightly, isn’t it?” “...” Perhaps it sounded too mocking, as discomfort showed on the faces of those who had been jabbed by my words. Well, whose fault was it for staring so much? Feeling slightly at ease, I settled back deeply into the chair. There was some time until it began, so I thought I might as well rest a bit. "You sure are straightforward," a voice commented beside me. It was Yeongpung, who was waiting alongside me. Incidentally, Yeongpung was one of the few who hadn’t sent his presence to me. The remaining two were Paeng Woojin and Dang Soyeol, while the one whose reaction was suppressed was the Poison King. “Oh, it’s not that straightforward….” "Ha ha. Gu So-hyeop is always like this, yet there are many aspects to admire in you." “…Mm.” Had Jeongryong or Cheoljiseon, or even Seongyul heard this, they would have immediately told me to stop joking around. Knowing this, I responded with an awkward laugh. Yeongpung, with his characteristic smile, continued polishing his sword. Then, turning to me, he spoke again. “How is your body holding up?” “My body? I’m perfectly fine.” “You seemed quite injured… Are you sure you’re alright?” "Yes. Just a bit of ointment, and I’m healed." He referred to the internal and external injuries sustained from the fight with Shinryong. Honestly, I wasn’t fully healed yet. It was a wound that’d take a bit more time for complete recovery... But I told myself it was fine. After all, there weren’t any more challenging fights ahead. Thinking as much, I replied. Yet, unexpectedly, Yeongpung apologized. “Forgive me.” “Pardon?” Curious as to why he suddenly apologized, I looked at Yeongpung with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?” “Though I wish to extend to you the same courtesy you showed Shinryong, it seems I won’t be able to this time around.” Ah. Hearing Yeongpung's continued words, I finally understood the meaning behind his apology. In the duel with Shinryong, I had chosen to injure myself to level the playing field and draw out a fair fight. That must have been what Yeongpung was recalling. The reason being... “With my current state, I’m unsure if I’ll even reach you, Gu So-hyeop. I will simply do my utmost within the given circumstances.” This time, my opponent in the grand match was none other than Yeongpung. He had long awaited this chance to face me in battle, and indeed, we were finally set to duel. Some might question if it was appropriate for the two of us to be chatting amicably under such circumstances, but neither Yeongpung nor I seemed to mind. His words, spoken as if making a pledge, only brought a smile to my face. “Yes. Please, do your best.” I, too, hoped he would give it his all. With his unwavering efforts, may his plum blossom technique find its mark on me. No, it had to be so. ‘That way.’ Only then would he earn the right, even just for a show, to be called the successor of that irritable old man.