738 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Title: The World's Best Martial Artist's Childhood Friend, Chapter 738: Northern Rabbit On the day the round of sixteen began, the waiting room was significantly emptier than on the first day of the tournament. During the final preliminaries, those not competing could visit briefly, but starting from the round of sixteen, that was no longer possible. This resulted in a much quieter waiting area. "The weather's nice." Looking up at the sky, it felt particularly clear today. Without a single cloud in sight, it was indeed sunny—a perfect day for a picnic, if one were so inclined. In this pleasant weather, I subtly glanced around my surroundings. Contrary to the sunny day, the atmosphere here was rather gloomy, all due to the intimidating aura of the martial artists present. "Sigh." As I sensed this, I let out a sigh. Under the clear sky, this place alone felt shrouded in darkness. The tension and vigilance were palpable, energies so rough they could almost be seen. The reason for this, as previously mentioned, was the martial artists. But it wasn’t just any martial artist causing the problem. "That man's appearance is something else." This pervasive energy emanated mainly from a middle-aged man seated at a distance. It was coming from Dowang, the head of the Paeng family. The oppressive aura was almost suffocating. Dowang was releasing an enormous amount of bloodlust in all directions. Unlike the display he put on previously, this time it felt genuine. "Is it for real this time?" This time, the turbulent energy was purely emotional, intensified by Dowang’s feelings. Sitting quietly with his eyes closed, I could sense murderous anger from him. The reason for his anger was obvious. "...It’s all because that old man got beaten." Even though it settled somewhat after my match with Sinryong, the previous match between Turong and Dowang was still a hot topic. Turong, one of the late-stage talents, pounded Dowang and then forfeited, leading to numerous rumors. Speculations arose about how Dowang was unworthy to bear the title of “King” and critiques about how his incompetence was hidden behind the Paeng family’s name. The second claim, though, was pretty accurate, so let’s brush past that. Anyway. "As a result, the business partnerships tied to him started falling apart." With over half of the supporters severing ties, the central continent’s people began pointing fingers at Dowang. While I understood why he became a recluse, considering his age, taking out his anger on everyone was unjustified. If he was that upset, he shouldn't have shown up. All he was doing was sitting there trying to exert influence. Tsk tsk. I clicked my tongue once and lightly waved my hand. Whoosh-! I released my inner energy into the air. As it mingled with the air, it began unraveling the tangled energies. Whoosh-! As Dowang's energy slightly dissipated, I heard someone exhale in relief. Just when I thought things were improving... "What do you think you're doing?" A heavy voice called from afar. It was Dowang, the source of the energy. "What do you mean?" I replied, knowing he was addressing me. Dowang, who had his eyes open, was glaring at me. His gaze was fierce. Given his already menacing demeanor, being stared at made him even scarier. "How dare you tamper with my energy..." Was his irritation piqued? Dowang suddenly stood up. With a swoosh-! a denser aura was released. "Hmm." What was happening? Had he gone completely mad? Even though I knew Dowang’s state wasn’t right, his advancing figure made it seem as though he was genuinely intent on fighting. Engaging in battle without permission in the waiting area would result in disqualification. Had he truly lost his mind? As I watched him in curiosity, other martial artists also seemed to be eyeing Dowang. Silently, a small sound next to me caught my attention. Tang Soyeol, standing beside me, was reaching into her sleeve, likely for a dagger. "Don't." I grabbed her wrist immediately. Even though I understood her intention, acting now would only bring harm to Tang Soyeol. So, what to do? Should I rise and attempt to block him? As I pondered, nodding my head slightly... "Master." Someone placed a hand on Dowang’s shoulder. It was Paeng Woo-jin. “Please calm yourself. There are many eyes watching….” Smack-! A terribly sharp sound made everyone flinch. Dowang had slapped Paeng Woo-jin’s cheek hard. Watching Paeng Woo-jin’s head spin from the impact, I noticed blood trickling from his lips. “Do you dare disrespect me too? Was it your ambition to ascend to this position as Minor Head?” Paeng Woo-jin silently wiped the blood from his lips, his cheek growing red from the harsh slap. “Don’t get cocky just because you have some talent. I am still the Head. Don’t overstep your bounds.” How revolting to watch. The bruised pride and overflowing sense of inferiority were palpable. No more abject display of disgrace could be imagined. Moreover... "I can sense the demonic influence." From Dowang, traces of demonic influence were evident. Though still faint, if left unchecked, it could consume his entire being. "Seems taking a beating from Pae-jon left him with quite a strain." Had it truly been Pae-jon who struck him, he wouldn’t be in such a pitiful state, but enduring such a beating from Turong seems to have left him in shambles. Pathetic. While watching Dowang in disbelief, Paeng Woo-jin, who had been slapped, tried to force a smile, his eyes narrowing in disgust. “I’ll keep that in mind. However, it might be best to restrain yourself now.” All bystanders were staring at Dowang. Even if they were aware of his unusual condition, they weren’t blind to it. “...Ugh.” After hearing Paeng Woo-jin’s words, Dowang glanced around before casting a glare at me, uttering a final threat. “Consider yourself lucky, kid. There won’t be a next time.” With those words, he turned and left. "What in the world..." I couldn't help but grimace at the sight, his words akin to a third-rate villain's. It felt like something I seldom heard in my life. Undoubtedly, I must have encountered it somewhere before. Yet before it could even be voiced, I would have dealt with it decisively. “Ugh…” Feeling a shiver of disgust, I rubbed my arms, brushing off the goosebumps. It was revolting. "Why is he like that?" Suppressing the urge to retch, I forced myself to endure. Is this what broken pride and demonic influence look like? I reminded myself not to age like that. Such thoughts came to me naturally. Additionally, there seemed to be chaos within the family itself. I frowned further as I looked at Paeng Woo-jin. The moment Dowang slapped him, I saw a hint of murderous intent in Paeng Woo-jin’s eyes. It wasn’t just anger; it was a killing intent. Whatever the situation there, it was clear that things weren’t great in that household. "Hmm." Well, that’s none of my business. They'll handle their affairs. My own family affairs are a mess, too, and I don't have the luxury to worry about someone else's. After shifting my gaze away from the retreating Dowang, I addressed the people beside me. "You can relax now. Seems like it’s settled." On hearing my words, Tang Soyeol relaxed her shoulders, and I heard the sound of a sword being adjusted by Yeongpung to my left. Tang Soyeol, I could understand. But Yeongpung, what about him? “Yeongpung, what were you planning to do? Why were you holding your sword?” Yeongpung gave an awkward smile. “Haha, it’s not that. I just tensed up unconsciously.” Right, unconsciously. He was ready to draw his sword at the slightest provocation; I saw that clearly. While I appreciated his readiness, it seemed a bit much. ‘We have a duel upcoming; we shouldn’t waste energy on such trifles.’ Especially not on unnecessary matters like this. I cast a quick glance at Dowang. Is this what it means to be a "King"? These figures who inherit titles based on influence alone. While not exactly among the top ten masters, they are still positioned high within the martial realms. ‘... Influence.’ Reflecting on the weight of such titles. The balance between influence and martial prowess creates a certain disconnect. This could prove useful. ‘I might find a way to leverage this.’ I wasn’t considering using Dowang specifically. There’s nothing to be gained from such incompetence. But exploiting the prestige attached to titles like "King" or "Queen" might be worth attempting. ‘How to utilize it?’ I pondered. It was essential to seize ideas when they surfaced, as they often led to successful outcomes. Just as I was about to fully delve into these thoughts. - Contestants, please prepare yourselves! Hearing the announcement from the entrance, I clicked my tongue briefly. Unfortunately, there was no time to think further. - From the Sanseo district, Koo Yangcheon and Yeongpung from Hua Mountain, please come to the stage! As it turned out, I was up first in this round of matches. “It’s our turn now,” Yeongpung said, standing up promptly. “Let’s do our best.” He spoke with his signature smile and, convinced by his demeanor, I nodded. ‘Right.’ I should focus on the opponent before me. Aside from Yeongpung’s words, I also had matters to attend to. ‘And not just with Yeongpung.’ There was something familiar within Yeongpung’s energy. I had business with that energy. ****************** One of the most significant changes from the preliminary stages to the round of sixteen was the martial stage itself. Clearly prepared in advance, the main stage differed notably from the preliminaries. Not only was it more solid, but above all... ‘It got bigger.’ The stage had doubled in size. This was likely why there had been a short break between rounds. Initially set apart quite a distance from the crowd stands, the enlarged stage had narrowed that gap. Thump, thump. I tapped it lightly with my foot. This alone told me enough. ‘Solid.’ It was much more reinforced than what we used in the preliminaries. They probably mixed in more of the eternal iron than usual. ‘With this...’ It wouldn't break easily. While gauging its sturdiness, nodding to myself. - So Yeomra is here! - Waaaahhh-!! Cheers erupted from the crowd. Looking up, I saw innumerable people waving at me enthusiastically. - Waaaahhh--!! - So Yeomra! “Hmm....” The deafening cheers and my still unfamiliar moniker came from all around. Seeing the excited fans waving, it was hard to maintain a straight face. Accustomed to jeering and criticism, such positive reactions were novel to me. - Go for it! - You’re awesome! - Handsome! I mean... awesome! What was with their sudden switch? ‘...Good grief.’ Despite feeling a bit incredulous, I couldn’t help but smile. Should I wave back? No, that might be too much. I simply clenched my fist in acknowledgment. Responding felt difficult, but even having orchestrated this scenario, it was still unnerving. Applause and attention that I inherently felt I shouldn’t have. I always felt that way. “You seem embarrassed.” Standing opposite me, Yeongpung engaged in conversation, having noted my reaction. Hearing his comment, I awkwardly scratched my neck. “Not particularly.” “It’s fine. In fact.... Isn’t this the attention Young Master deserved a long time ago?” His words prompted a slight tilt of my head in curiosity. “What do you mean by that?” My query led Yeongpung to glance at the crowd, continuing the conversation amid the persistent enthusiasm from spectators. “It’s just something I’ve thought about for some time. With your skills, Young Master, you deserved such recognition much earlier.” “... Nothing as grand as that.” “It’s rather amazing to me. Despite reaching such heights, you remain humble. That’s nothing short of admirable for many.” “...” I felt like I might hurl. Was he trying to gild my face with compliments forever? Any more, and my expressions would surely betray me. Just as I wondered if I should block my ears to stifle such flattery, Yeongpung thankfully changed the subject. “I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude again.” Gratitude? It seemed a bit out of the blue. “Suddenly?” “Yes. If it weren’t for meeting Young Master back then, I would still be staring at the sky from within a well.” Ah. It seemed he was referring to when we met at Mount Hua. "There exists a world beyond the well, filled with people I couldn’t even imagine," Yeongpung said. Known as the greatest prodigy of Mount Hua—the best among the late-stage talents in terms of swordsmanship—Yeongpung had always been evaluated as such since childhood. Because of this, in his past life, he couldn’t bloom beyond being a big fish in a small pond. In this life, however, he blossomed. Ultimately, I couldn’t deny that Yeongpung’s talent justified such a reputation. When it came purely to swordsmanship... Yeongpung indeed possessed remarkable talent. There were others like Wi Seol-ah and Namgoong Bia who were on par or slightly above him, but Yeongpung could still hold his ground. "Whenever I encountered such individuals, I recalled the moment I first met you," he continued. "Thinking about it like that sounds a bit creepy," I replied. Yeongpung laughed softly. "Apologies, but I truly mean it." Genuinely creepy, indeed... Yet I chose not to voice that thought aloud. "And with each encounter, I came to feel grateful that I met you first." "What do you mean by that?" "Whenever arrogance began to creep in, recalling you would instantly humble me, reminding me of my place." "...." His words made me swallow slightly. At this point, it felt more like a negative remark than a compliment. Maybe I beat him more harshly than I intended back then? In hindsight, I didn’t go overboard. It was a time when I wasn’t even at my peak. "Thank you once more. Because of you, I've made it this far." "Uh, yes... well..." Thanking me for the beating was one of those moments where responding appropriately was difficult. Feeling awkward, I scratched my cheek, then asked Yeongpung something I was genuinely curious about. "How about now then, Yeongpung?" "Pardon?" "Do you think you could win now?" "...." Silence enveloped the moment. My question was about where he saw himself standing now compared to when we last crossed paths as rivals. Yeongpung considered my question silently. The referee looked somewhat expectant, but I ignored that. After a few seconds, Yeongpung finally spoke. "I’m not sure." A somewhat ambiguous answer. "But." With that, he unsheathed his sword. "I always aim to reclaim my heroic honor from you." Watching the sharp edge of his polished sword, a small smile crept onto my face. When I had first visited Mount Hua, Yeongpung gave me an item upon our parting. It was something he asked me to return when we met again. We both understood implicitly that it wasn't merely about returning an item—it was an implicit challenge for a "satisfactory duel," a chance for Yeongpung to claim victory and take back what was his. Knowing this, I only had one response for Yeongpung then as I did now. "I’m afraid that won't happen." I relaxed my grip slightly, speaking with renewed determination. "You’ll never get that hero’s token back." It was a challenge—a promise that I would always be a wall he would have to overcome. Then, as now, my answer remained firm. As I assumed my stance, the referee, who had been waiting for this, raised his hand. "We shall commence the sixteen-stage duel of the Divine Dragon Martial Tournament..." His voice echoed, and the audience fell silent, their focus solely on the stage. "Koo Yangcheon of the Sanseo District versus Yeongpung of Mount Hua... Begin!" The duel began with Yeongpung’s form erupting with radiant plum blossoms. Without hesitation, and more vivid than before, blooming petals scattered all around. Compared to before, their quantity and brilliance were incomparable. He truly had grown. Amidst the inexplicable emotions stirred by the scenery of petals, I noticed something peculiar as I watched Yeongpung amongst the cascading petals. ‘What?’ Among the swirling blossom petals, Yeongpung’s appearance seemed to subtly shift. ‘What is happening?’ His figure seemed to grow taller, and his clothes appeared to change. What was this illusion? ‘Is this some kind of array or illusion technique?’ It didn’t seem like his actual form was changing. It was as if only my eyes perceived these shifts... I frowned, trying to decipher this phenomenon when suddenly... "…!" I saw it—a face change, as Yeongpung’s visage literally transformed. Wrinkles formed, and his facial structure morphed. For a moment, he seemed to become an elder—or rather, someone completely different. Fierce, with eyes utterly unlike Yeongpung's gentle gaze, the new face belonged to an old man with harsh features and sharp eyes. An unmistakably foul personality, destined to have a sharp tongue—familiar, yet previously met only once. The instant I recognized that face. Whish-! Bam-! "Kuh!" Involuntarily, my fist flew forward. Yeongpung’s face was struck, and he was hurled backward, rolling across the ground. "Oh." Yeongpung rolled on the dirt, blood marking the trail he had traveled. Realizing the unintended strength I'd put into the punch, I muttered. "Oops." I had misjudged my power.