754 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Chapter 754: Northern Hare - Web Novel Archive "Cheonma...." Upon hearing the introduction of the individual, the Swordsman immediately frowned. "Unchanged." His voice was full of restraint, as if he was forcibly suppressing his energy. "You are the one rumored to have turned the Wudang into chaos." [Ah.] Cheonma responded to the Swordsman's words. [That's right. That did happen.] It was as if he had momentarily forgotten about it. The Swordsman's expression worsened at that reaction. The incident had occurred not elsewhere, but at the heart of Wudang itself. Not only had an intruder infiltrated, but a senior elder had also been murdered. It had almost diminished Wudang's standing. And this person couldn't even remember such a significant event? [My apologies.] Perhaps sensing the Swordsman's irritation, Cheonma chuckled and said, [It was so trivial to me that I momentarily forgot.] "...You-!" The Swordsman nearly erupted at those words. "Urgh...." He gritted his teeth and managed to hold back somehow. He couldn't afford to lose his temper, not when there were too many eyes watching. "I must ask.... Are you really the mastermind behind all this?" He questioned, trying to ascertain the truth first. [Hmm.] Cheonma inclined his head slightly at the Swordsman's question. And then, [Old monster of Wudang, it seems you are mistaken.] He began to speak as if educating the Swordsman. [I never permitted you to ask questions. Yet here you are, inquiring?] "What...?" [Do not be mistaken.] Thick, dark energy started to envelop the surrounding area. [I do not converse with insects.] "...!!" Insect. In an instant, the Swordsman's face flushed red with anger from being reduced to an "insect." [Nevertheless, I'm speaking with you today because I'm in a good mood.] With a chuckle, Cheonma stepped forward. He was slightly closer to the barrier now. [Had it not been for this mood... you wouldn't even be able to look me in the eye here.] His words reeked of arrogance. Even with so many people trapped within the barrier, each possessing their own powers, Cheonma exuded an unmatched arrogance. It was beyond anyone's comprehension. At that moment, Cheonma slowly approached the barrier. Beneath him were those struggling to break free from it. “Damn...!” Though the old man didn't notice, Cheonma seemed capable enough to sense it; most of these individuals expressed hostility toward him, ready to attack at any moment. Despite that, Cheonma walked nonchalantly. And finally, as he reached them. [Be still.] Uuuuuuung---!!! "...!" “Ugh!?” At Cheonma's words, everyone froze as if they had been turned to stone. [Dare not even breathe until I permit it.] “...Gugh...” With just a word, he had stopped their breathing as well. What kind of power was this? With a mere word, he suppressed dozens. It was an overwhelming spectacle. Cheonma silently walked among them. The martial artists, trembling, could only watch as Cheonma passed by. Wooong. As he neared the barrier, the forcefield vibrated. The power that shackled those inside was mysterious, with its nature and weaknesses unknown. [It seems that whatever we prepared is more comfortable than expected. The captured looks suit livestock well.] At his insulting remark, those inside hardened their expressions. [Heh.] Perhaps finding their reactions amusing, Cheonma chuckled. And then, "Remove... Remove this barrier at once." Something about Cheonma's laughter prompted the Swordsman to shout, his face blazing red. "If you're so confident, come and face my sword yourself!" His pride seemed deeply wounded. The Swordsman appeared eager for a death match with Cheonma. Such was his determination. [Ah, if you were not so clueless about your own status, I would show you what the heavens are.] Buzz. As Cheonma spoke, his feet began to rise off the ground. At the same time, the elderly figure, allegedly of the Jegal family lineage, was also beginning to float in the air. [I have too much work to entertain your antics.] "Are you running away?" The Swordsman mocked the idea of not fighting. But Cheonma's response remained steady. [Old monster.] Cheonma queried the Swordsman. [If you truly think you are capable of fighting me, with what do you plan to face me?] "If you intend to spew more meaningless words, I refuse to listen." [Is it as the Head of Wudang? Or as the Leader of the Alliance?] "..." The Swordsman's words halted for a moment. His tongue was tied. Seeing this, Cheonma nodded as if he had expected it. [You wretch, not even understanding your own essence. You lack the qualifications to face me.] "Nonsensical talk...!" Trying to muster a retort, the Swordsman continued to speak, but Cheonma, seemingly having lost interest, began moving away from the barrier. [Bring a more satisfactory answer next time.] "Stop! Remove this barrier at once!" [For now, watch from within. Witness the collapse of the tainted peace you have constructed.] Bang-! Bang bang-! The Swordsman desperately unleashed sword energies filled with anger, but they were absorbed into the barrier, disappearing with no effect. [Be grateful for my mercy.] Cheonma watched the Swordsman's futile struggle with a smile. [I've come merely to greet you today, but there will be no next time.] Whooooosh--!!! The energy extended in all directions began to converge into Cheonma. Gradually, the black mist was being drawn to him. [This serves as both a greeting and a festival I have prepared.] Not only those strewn across the ground but even those trapped inside the barrier— everyone was watching him. Faces filled with rage, tinged with faint fear. Some shouted, others trembled, yet amidst it all, Cheonma's voice remained clear. [So, by all means.] [Enjoy it thoroughly.] And with those final words. Fwoooosh-!!! Boom-!! A formed sphere exploded, emitting light. By the time visibility returned, Cheonma, who should have been there, and the once-floating sphere in the sky were nowhere to be found. Cheonma, along with the old man, had vanished. Proof of his departure came as those on the ground resumed their breathing. "Huff...! Gasp!" "Cough!" As they gasped for the breath they had been holding, they staggered, unable to maintain their balance. Others wore similar expressions. A faint disappointment was visible on the faces of civilians who hadn’t escaped. Witnesses to the chaos brought by its mastermind—despite standing right in front of him—their inability to act weighed heavily on them. Seeing this, the Swordsman could no longer contain his frustration and let out an anguished scream. **************** Thud! Thud! - Kill them all! - Reorganize the ranks! - Protect the civilians! Boom! Kablooey! Amidst the chaotic din and harsh explosions from the attack. The air was thick with the energy of the martial artists. Even the strange signs in the sky, unfolding amidst this situation, evidenced the calamity that had befallen them. Amidst this turmoil, a young man treaded forward with quiet determination. Dressed in a stark, dark robe, faint golden embroidery adorned it—the hallmark of a direct descendant of the Peng family. The young man bore a black ring symbolizing his lineage to the Peng; he was Peng Woo-Jin, also known as Bisung-do. His handsome features gave off a strangely unsettling aura as he supported his father, the Tao Lord, and continued his unwavering journey. Though far from the center of Hanam’s affairs, Peng Woo-Jin was not at the gathering point of the Peng family’s martial artists. Yet he pressed on regardless, heading steadfastly toward an unknown destination. Eventually, as he walked some distance further, - Kill! - Just a little longer! Soon, the spell will be complete! Clang! Clang clang! In a sparsely populated area, the sounds of battle reached his ears. Peng Woo-Jin perked up at the noise. Halting his steps, He gently laid down his father, who passed out and fell limply to the ground. With a gentle flick, He drew forth his beloved sword from his waist. It was thinner and slightly smaller than the one used by his father, Peng Zhou. As soon as Peng Woo-Jin took another step, Shifting instantaneously, he arrived at a location. Schwip! Clang! Astonishingly, it was right in the midst of an ongoing battle. A fierce place, filled with chaotic swordplay. "What?!" "What on earth—!!" Puzzled expressions bloomed at Peng Woo-Jin's sudden entrance. But their confusion was short-lived. Slice! A gruesome sound echoed. Someone's head rolled across the ground, severed. At Peng Woo-Jin's swift strike, the sword-wielding figure clad in black was decapitated. Widened eyes blinked at the rapid blow. Sh-sh-sh-shk---!!! Peng Woo-Jin's hand moved so swiftly it became a blur. Then, "Aaagh!" "Arghhh!!" Screams erupted in all directions. One after another, people began to fall brutally from his slashes. Thud. The brutalized bodies sprawled across the ground, staining it crimson with blood. Yet amidst the scene that he had created, Peng Woo-Jin seemed unnervingly calm. His face betrayed no emotion. Then. As he quietly watched the aftermath, someone approached Peng Woo-Jin. It was those who had been engaged in battle with the enemy. "Thanks... thank you for your assistance." The sudden end to the fierce battle left them shocked and bewildered. Their voices drew Peng Woo-Jin’s gaze. In their sky-blue uniforms with white embroidery, they were from the Martial Alliance. Among them, the leader stepped forward to address Peng Woo-Jin. "I am Mo Woon-Sung from the Changryong division. Are you truly the Bisung-do young master?" Nod. Peng Woo-Jin confirmed with a nod, brightening Mo Woon-Sung's expression. "Ah! As expected...! Thank you so much. It was such an unexpected attack; we couldn’t handle it properly on our side either." "What’s happening here?" Possibly because he had aided in their battle, Mo Woon-Sung was quite amicable towards Peng Woo-Jin’s inquiry. "Well... it seems Hanam has been attacked. I hear the peculiar sky is their doing as well." After hearing his explanation, Peng Woo-Jin glanced around. Now he noticed they all wore identical uniforms. "An attack...?" "Yes... Our reconnaissance teams have been overtaken, striking at our weaker points, making our response difficult..." "Perfect." "Pardon?" Slice. "What?" It felt like something had grazed his throat. As if trying to comprehend what had happened, Mo Woon-Sung touched his neck. Gurgle— Blood streamed down as his head slowly fell. "Mo team leader?! What suddenly—!" Even as others expressed their shock at Mo Woon-Sung's sudden death, Shwink! The speaker’s upper body was cleanly severed, collapsing lifelessly. Another incisive slash, like before. Without managing a proper question, in seconds, all members of the Martial Alliance shared the same fate. Amidst far more blood than before. Squelch. With each movement, Peng Woo-Jin’s steps made wet sounds. With everyone dead, Peng Woo-Jin turned without hesitation. He walked slowly to where Peng Zhou was, remarkably composed despite the slaughter. When he arrived. “Ugh...” Surprisingly, Peng Zhou began regaining consciousness. “Ah...Ugh...” In significant pain, he groaned as he opened his eyes, furrowing his brow. "Where...am I?" “Have you awakened?” Observing him, Peng Woo-Jin asked impassively. Peng Zhou's eyes settled on his son. “…Young lord.” “You should’ve stayed asleep a little longer. It would have spared you more pain.” “Where is this...huh!” As Peng Zhou tried to ask, memories sprung back, overtaking him. “That bastard...! That brat... where is he?” That brat. Referring to someone specific, Peng Woo-Jin smiled slightly. He had a good guess who it was. “You mean the young master Gu?” “Yes. That cursed descendant of the Gu family... Where is that son of a bitch...!” The one whose father, Gu Cheol-Un, deserved to be torn apart. Where was the bastard responsible for his current state? Peng Zhou ground out the question through gritted teeth. “I’m not sure. I really don’t know.” Peng Woo-Jin's response was void of emotion. However, in his twisted state, Peng Zhou failed to notice. "Then find him, using every resource of the clan if you must," Peng Zhou commanded, his eyes glinting with madness. “...Hmm.” Peng Woo-Jin observed his father's deranged state and asked, "And once you find him, what is your plan?" "What else? I’ll tear him to pieces. Yes, I'll shred him and send the pieces as a gift to that wretched Gu Cheol-Un. Hehehe!!" "..." Peng Zhou's eyes brimming with vengeance and resentment, his appearance now broken and pitiable. Witnessing this, Peng Woo-Jin subtly nodded, ensuring his father didn’t catch the gesture. “Understood.” “Then, let's inform the other elders first—” Thud-! "…Ugh…!?" A sharp pain pierced through his chest. Startled by the unexpected agony, Peng Zhou looked down. Something had impaled his chest. "Ugh…." Red liquid surged forth, veins standing out across Peng Zhou's neck. “You… little…?” Peng Zhou, incredulous, gazed at Peng Woo-Jin. His sword had pierced Peng Zhou’s heart. “What is… this…?” "You're asking something quite unusual." Peng Woo-Jin smiled at his father's question, a radiant smile rarely seen. “No father, no matter how incompetent, should be this clueless.” “…Ugh…!” “I am now,” He pushed the blade deeper, and as he did, he spoke to Peng Zhou. "In the process of succeeding the head of the family, Father." “…You…rat..!" “As a child, though perhaps you don't remember it well, I always wondered…” Whether it was the moment he began speaking or at some unspecified time thereafter didn’t matter. What mattered was... "I always wondered when Father would cease to be incompetent… but now, I see clearly." Peng Woo-Jin finally understood. "Father, you shall remain incompetent from birth until death." “…Arrghh…!!!” Desperation compelled Peng Zhou to grip the sword firmly. But the blade in Peng Woo-Jin’s hand wouldn’t budge. "Haah…ugh…. gurgle…" The pain intensified, and blood continued to pour. Gradually, his vision began to blur. “Why…! Why…!” He couldn't comprehend the reason. Why would Peng Woo-Jin betray him? He was full of questions. To these questions, Peng Woo-Jin also had an understanding. “Indeed, Father, you won’t comprehend.” Having already ascended to the position of Young Master, and with no one else suitable to inherit the leadership, the other branches filled with useless, pathetic beings were of no concern. Thus, even without this act, the head position was fated to be his. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand.” Peng Woo-Jin truly didn’t care. “So, please, die as you are—incompetent to the last.” In the future under his leadership, the Peng family had no room for incompetence. Thrust-! “Ugh... gasp…” With the sword withdrawn from his heart, blood erupted from Peng Zhou's chest. “Ha… gasp…. Heuh…gasp.” Desperate for life, Peng Zhou took a few breaths, but soon the light in his eyes faded. Peng Zhou, the Tao Lord, had met his end this way— the last of the grand sects, the head of the great Northern Peng family. “...” Having witnessed his father’s death, Peng Woo-Jin turned with a hardened expression. With tasks left to handle, he planned to move for the purpose of completing them. Boom. "...!" Suddenly, Peng Woo-Jin sensed something through his intuition. He moved swiftly. At that moment, Whooosh---!!! An unknown object hurtled toward where Peng Woo-Jin stood. Kaboom--!! It struck the ground and detonated into a massive explosion. Debris scattered, a cloud of dust swirling violently. “...” The explosion left the ground in utter disarray. “Hehehehe.” From within the swirling dust, a malicious laugh echoed. Hearing it, Peng Woo-Jin frowned. Whoosh--!! The violent gusts cleared the dust, revealing the figure hidden within. Wearing dark clothes, with unkempt green hair flowing wildly, stood a giant. He tightly gripped a polearm the size of his own body, fixing his gaze on Peng Woo-Jin. Who is this? Though questions lingered, Peng Woo-Jin tightened his grip on his cherished sword. It didn’t matter who this opponent was. This man had to die here. And as if sharing the same thought, "So, it's you." The enemy exuded killing intent akin to Peng Woo-Jin’s own. "The powerful one radiating from afar was you." Grrrrooooow---!! As the giant warrior raised his energy, Peng Woo-Jin’s eyes widened. ‘...Color?’ A monochrome world. That dark horizon in Peng Woo-Jin’s vision was filling with color. The man before him began to glow with a violet hue. Beautiful. The thought flashed unbidden through Peng Woo-Jin’s mind. Weeee-! Yet Peng Woo-Jin swung his sword first. Dark energy gathered along its blade. The opponent, also deeming conversation unnecessary, swung his massive weapon. Clang--!!! The clash of blades heralded the beginning of a duel to the death.