411 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Chapter 412: The Hidden Enemy "A bandit?" At Pejon's mention of bandits, a multitude of thoughts raced through my mind. It took me back to a time right after the demon realm first opened. Back then, bandits and pirates who had once thrived in the mountains and seas could not withstand the onslaught of demonic beasts. They had to descend into cities and join the outlaws. Those who lingered too long mostly saw their lives cut short, victims of the martial alliance's decree to exterminate evil a mere fifteen years ago. Ah, I say "cut short," but not entirely snuffed out. Even now, rare whispers of encounters at sea or bandits in the mountains reached our ears. Of course, hearing such news, the martial alliance would dispatch their sword squads, capturing these bandits like vermin, until the end was nigh. Yet here they are, bandits. "And in the Sze-chuan region, of all places?" This meant only one thing. "They’re part of his group." I realized immediately. The bandits Pejon spoke of were indeed linked to the one I intended to confront as soon as I arrived in Sze-chuan. There was no room for doubt. As I approached Sze-chuan, any bandits active within that vicinity had to be part of his entourage. Catching my breath, I recalled the situation. "Even if it is true, something doesn't add up." Doubts lingered. This wasn't the moment he should be emerging. A year or two remained before he should have shown any signs of prominence. Until now, he should have been biding his time, amassing his strength secluded in the mountains. The fact that there was movement... seemed odd. "The Green King..." I remembered the giant once heralded as the King of Bandits in a previous life. He had been a demon proficient in external arts to the point of being considered indestructible. The power granted to him by the Heavenly Demon even matched his formidable might. How much had I struggled in the past to penetrate that mighty physique in battle? "Perhaps this is an unexpected opportunity." When planning my journey to Sze-chuan, behind the White Stone, my foremost priority was him. He was an infamous villain and martial artist, set to become the leader of the Heavenly Demon’s personal unit in a past life. I intended to corrupt him into a demon under my control, should I build my own power base. "The fact that he reveals himself is indeed fortuitous." But there was a concern. Glancing sideways, I looked toward the Tang Clan members. "The timing, right now, coinciding with being with the head of Tang Clan..." That was the issue. When the Green King began to stand out, his first notorious title was: "The Tang Clan Slayer." So-called because he was known to track down and kill only members of the Tang Clan in Sze-chuan. The Green King, in a previous life, would have fits of rage at the mere sight of a Tang surname. His dislike for me also stemmed from an association with the Tang Clan. "Because I killed Poisonous Bi, he didn't like me." It seemed absurd that he would dislike the fact that it was I, not him, who killed Poisonous Bi. Upon hearing that, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of ludicrous reason that was. Though it sounded ridiculous, I vaguely understood why the Green King harbored such intense hatred toward the Tang Clan. The Green King's real name was Tang Deok. As the name suggests, the Green King was originally born in the Tang Clan. I had heard he was a distant half-brother or cousin of the Poison King, but I wasn’t particularly concerned about the details. What mattered was that he was called a 'failed creation' of the Tang Clan. "A painful name indeed." A failed creation of the Tang Clan. Perhaps I feel a peculiar sympathy due to my own history of being termed a failed descendant of the Koo clan. I knew a little about why he earned such a reputation. The Green King possessed none of the typical traits of someone from the Tang Clan. Except for his distinct green hair, there was nothing about him that fit the mold of the Tang Clan. He had no immunity to poison, and contrary to the Tang Clan's inclinations, he lacked skill in poison arts. Due to the Tang Clan’s martial arts specializing in assassination, they did not harmonize with the Green King's large physique. There were rumors suggesting he was abandoned by the Tang Clan because of those traits, which fueled his rage. The problematic part was that the Tang Clan never denied these rumors, lending them credibility. In any case, this meant the Green King, Tang Deok, was a monster carrying resentment toward the Tang Clan. I didn't care why he was expelled from the Tang Clan and became a bandit. What mattered to me was whether he was currently active or not. Nothing else. "Whether to kill him or turn him into a demon, it's one of the two." Though there were countless demons in my past life, I had predetermined certain ones to corrupt with my hands in this life. The Green King in Sze-chuan was one such target, along with the Heavenly Killing Sword Demon, who was likely sharpening his blade about now. I would destroy or integrate those who might cause problems in the future. This was the path I intended to take. “...Master.” “Hmm?” “What do you think the Dark King intends to do?” It was the Dark King who had discovered the bandit, wasn’t it? Whatever their intentions, they likely didn’t realize the number of monsters within our group. Among us, especially related to this matter, the Dark King held an absolute position. "It would be inconvenient if he decides to eliminate them." If the Dark King decided to kill the surrounding bandits because they were a nuisance, that would be troublesome. Such an opportunity wasn’t common, and I needed it. While pondering this, Pejon chuckled and spoke to me. "What is there to do?" His tone was filled with amusement, as if the answer was obvious. "You just leave them be." "The Dark King is saying that?" Pejon’s expression turned slightly peculiar at my question. "Are you suggesting he would hunt them all down?" That's precisely what I had expected. My perception of the Dark King suggested such behavior. "Tsk, looking at your face, I don't even need to hear your answer to know." "..." "Whatever people may think, he isn't one who enjoys needless killing." "Is that so...?" It was indeed a surprising revelation. That the master of assassins didn’t relish in bloodshed. "He only does what's necessary." "...Oh." "Ah, though if things go awry, he might end up killing them all... As long as that doesn't happen, there's no issue." "..." Are we sure he doesn't enjoy it? Hearing this, I couldn't help but glance around, just in case the Dark King was listening. 'Ugh.' I used to freeze up a bit whenever I saw the Dark King, but after a month of relentless training, that feeling had intensified. Imagine being killed dozens of times a day by the same person for over a month. It's enough to make you twitch at just the sight of them. 'There's no easy answer to this...' No matter what I tried each night, I still couldn't touch the Dark King. At this point, even an idiot would realize that a different approach was needed to survive this training. The problem was that I couldn’t figure out what that approach might be, and it was killing me each night. 'For now, I need to set this aside and focus on the bandits.' The mere fact that they're nearby doesn't guarantee any connection to us yet. As far as I knew, only the Dark King had identified them. Neither I nor the other clan leaders had picked them up, suggesting they were still quite distant. It didn’t seem likely they were plotting anything against us for now. I needed more time to figure it out. Yet, after hearing Pejon's words, unease had already settled within me. Pejon looked at me and asked, "Kid." "Yes." "You seem to be scheming something, don't you?" "..." How did he know? My eyes were closed, yet he noticed. This old man had an uncanny sharpness about him. As if he sensed he'd caught me, Pejon gave a sly grin. "Whatever you're planning, do it discreetly. Don’t let it be obvious." “...Yes.” What exactly does he expect me to do discreetly? Pejon shouldn’t know about my regression, yet there were moments when he seemed keenly aware of something. Even if he was aware, he didn’t seem overly concerned about it. Pejon was uninterested in anything I did unless it detracted from my training. If it did, that would be a different story... "Were you planning on doing something today?" "What... do you mean?" "Anything." “...” "You seem interested, but it's hindering your training. Handle it quickly." Listening to him, I swallowed hard. Just what had this man seen? Perhaps sensing my thoughts, Pejon laughed and spoke again. "Want me to ask the Bat where they last saw them?" "..." Really? That's almost frightening... But of course. "Yes... I'd appreciate it." I didn't refuse. ****************** In the forests bordering the Sze-chuan region. On the path ahead, as the moon began its ascent and bathed the leaf canopy in silver light, concealed behind dense foliage, several men moved silently. In their midst, something faintly unfolded. A technique known among martial artists as concealment—a way to suppress footfalls and move while veiling one’s presence. As the men proceeded under this cloak, one of them muttered a quiet curse. "Damn..." Startled, the man at the front turned back. "Are you mad, keep your mouth shut!" "Ah, bro, do we really have to go to these lengths...?" "This damn fool, are you arguing with me now? Did I tell you to do this? The chief ordered it!" When the leader snapped angrily, the grumbling man clamped his mouth shut. Annoyed at having to sneak around like thieves, their discontent was silenced by the memory of who had given the orders—their chief. 'Screw it.' All he could do was vent his frustrations inwardly, knowing he had no other choice. "How much further do we have to go, boss?" "At this pace, at least another day or two." If they dashed using their martial skills, it wouldn't even take an hour. But creeping along as they were, it would take much longer. Hearing this, one man sighed and cursed quietly again. "Damn..." The leader scowled deeply. "Enough with the complaints. We're merely observing from a distance, not doing anything dangerous." Their chief only instructed them to monitor their movements and paths, with no mention of infiltrating or attacking—activities far removed from combat. "That's easy for you to say until we're caught. It’s not like it’s totally risk-free." Not entirely safe either, the grumbler thought. "You idiot, why do you keep griping?" The leader, aggravated, finally pulled something from his pocket to show the complainer. "As long as we have this, there's no risk of being caught." In his hand was a deep green orb, about the size of a man's fist, with no distinguishing features—but it was a treasure. An extraordinary item capable of masking presences within a certain range, allowing them to remain undetected. The chief assured them that, with this, even martial artists who had reached enlightenment would struggle to detect them. With their concealment technique added into the mix, discovery was impossible. Unless their target, the Tang Clan's convoy, included one of the celestial beings from Heaven’s Gate, which was unlikely. "Our intel says at best they have a Tang Clan chief and some lesser heads with them, so what's there to worry about?" "Still..." "Geez, if you're scared, just head back to the mountains. But then you’d have to face the chief's wrath. That sound alright to you?" "..." "We just need to do what we're asked. As long as we don’t try anything extra, we’ll be fine. But if you say one more word, I'm burying you here." With a snarl, the leader glanced away. Hearing this, the complainer finally fell silent. What else could he do when faced with the threat of being buried alive? 'Can't shake this ominous feeling.' The man was uneasy. No matter how powerful the artifact they possessed, it was foolish to think they could take on the convoy of the Poison King, known as the most dangerous of those who bore royal titles in the martial world of Zhuyuan. One wrong move and they could find themselves rotting away in a ditch, the victim of some insidious poison. How could he not fret? He didn’t join this bandit hideout with a death wish, after all. The man wrestled with his anxiety and was about to speak to the leader again, bracing for a rebuke. "Boss... something’s off." Whoosh— A spark flickered in the man's vision. They hadn't even lit torches to avoid detection, so where did it come from? Baffled by the unexpected anomaly, he turned back sharply. Crack—! A sharp sound of something breaking resonated from behind. He whipped around in haste. "...!" What he saw widened his eyes in shock. Following them from the back, their comrades lay sprawled on the ground, necks twisted, clearly dead. One was kneeling with his mouth covered by a stranger’s hand. In the chaos, he could distinctly make out the assailant’s features. The stranger hadn’t bothered to hide his face; the faint flames flickering from his body made him impossible to miss. The leader recognized the young face too and furrowed his brow. 'A kid?' Indeed, it was a young face—far too young to expect such violence. The leader was just as stunned. "What... who the hell are you?!" He drew his sword from his waist, trying to steady his nerves, but the young man paid him no heed, casting only a dispassionate glance their way. Then he spoke. "Three of you." "...What?" "Yeah, three should suffice. Set two alight, and the last one will start talking." Muttering cryptic words, the young man continued. Crunch—! "Mmmph!" He crushed the leg of the restrained man underfoot, without a second's hesitation. "You bastard...!" Seeing this, the leader charged at the youth. Yet, the young man's gaze remained fixed on another target, unmoved by the attack. "Boss...! Wait a second...!" The anxious man tried desperately to hold the leader back, but it was too late. He could only watch as the leader lunged forward fruitlessly. The youth, speaking with calm indifference, continued. "I need to be back by the hour of the ox, so let’s end this quickly." At that moment, the leader's agonized scream pierced the air. Something had gone terribly wrong, the man realized instinctively. But that was far from the only issue. He was about to learn why he should have feared someone other than the Poison King.