412 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

**Title: Unrivaled Martial Companion - Chapter 413: The Northern Rabbit** In the dim forest, smoke coils upwards. The rising smoke carries a pungent scent of something burning. "Ha... aaaaaah! Kyaaaaah!" The unidentified man keeps screaming repeatedly. It's because the flames clinging to his body are devouring his flesh. "Please... pleaaase!" Desperately, he pleads with the person gripping his neck, but his captor simply looks at him with the same eyes as before. Though his face remains expressionless, his eyes burn a fiery red. The moonlight gently reveals the shadows covering the earthy ground. The exposed ground is peculiarly dark. It's drenched with blood. "...Grk... Erk..." The man caught in the flames lets out a powerful scream before gradually falling silent. Finally, he breathes his last. "…" Thud. The young man who had been observing in silence finally releases the man's body. The now lifeless man collapses helplessly to the ground. The ghostly flames that had clung to him dissipate. "Hmph…." The onlooker clamps his hand over his mouth. Their leader has perished. Even though the commander had crossed into his forties, he was a formidable person said to have nearly reached the pinnacle of martial prowess. Even Chaiju, who had once acknowledged his strength, was left powerless, defeated by a young man who appeared no older than twenty. 'What… what is this?' The man, who had covered his mouth, couldn't comprehend the situation that had just unfolded. The bodies behind the deceased leader lay in a similar state of bewilderment. The first captive had turned to ashes, unrecognizable. Others were instantaneously killed with their necks snapped. The fate of their leader had been no different. 'A monster… that's a monster.' Trembling, the man tried to inch away, but the tree trunk behind him halted his retreat. "Haa… haaa…." His mind was already crushed under the weight of death's fear. Was he going to die? Would he meet his end like this? His fear surged uncontrollably, bringing forth tears. Escape was impossible. His legs had already been crushed by that monstrous figure. Creak. The monstrous figure that had been crouching began to move. Whoosh—! Flames still clung persistently to the creature's form. The man's only thought upon seeing those flames was simple. 'Brutal.' It was nothing like the sacred warmth and light that fire was supposed to hold. Nothing resonated with him. Perhaps that was why it was even more terrifying. How could fire carry nothing within it? No, there was something. ‘…Killer intent.’ The flames were like the embodiment of murderous intent. Perhaps, all the emotions of that monster were contained within those flames. How much killing intent must one possess to achieve such a manifestation? 'Fire…? Speaking of fire...' At that moment, a certain rumor flickered through the man's mind. Of a person reputed as the most renowned pyromancer in the Middle Kingdom. A young hero leading the current era with unparalleled martial prowess. A youth who defended against the Demon Lord's onslaught and mercilessly eliminated demonic cultists, earning himself a new moniker—a youth proficient in pyromancy. That moniker was none other than... "So-yom…." Crunch—! “...!” Just as the agony surged and the man was about to scream, the youth who had approached unnoticed clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn't even realized when he was subdued. All five of his fingers had twisted in unnatural directions. “Nngh… mmph…!” “Spew that crap by accident one more time, and next, I'll rip your arm off entirely. Scream, and I'll rip it off regardless. I'll release my hand in three seconds. You better stay quiet. Understand?” At the youth's indifferent words, the man nodded his head repeatedly. There was no way he could refuse. The youth calmly removed his hand. The man had to endure the rising pain in silence. Crimson eyes gazed down at the man. Kneeling, matching his gaze, he asked. "What is your purpose?" It was the same question he had asked the ones he tortured before. The man's voice trembled with fear as he responded. "Didn't… didn't you already hear?" "Is that all?" "Yes… yes." The details had been spilled by the first captured fellow. The orders were to shadow the Tang family’s supply convoy and gather intel. Despite hearing that, the youth… no, 'So-yom-ra…' The man clenched his teeth as he recalled the youth's identity. The tales of his ruthless nature against cultists seemed true. ‘I thought he was just a kid…!’ The truth of the rumors was far scarier. How could someone be so merciless? It was too frightening, too monstrous to be considered righteous. The form of torture he demonstrated was so terrifying it could drive one to wet themselves merely by witnessing it. His skillful use of flames during torture was unparalleled. Was this truly the individual hailed as the future of the martial path? Staring at So-yom-ra with trembling eyes, the young man looked back at him with an impassive face and continued. "There were seven in total. One second-rate, five first-rate, and one at the peak." “…!” Realizing he had perfectly assessed their martial ranks, the man's insides churned. It was entirely accurate. Their leader pursued the pinnacle of martial powers. The rest were first-rate, and the man himself was second-rate. "You possess a level far above mere bandits. Who are you really?" “…Huff… huff….” "What’s your goal? Hmm?" "I swear I don’t... know...." Sizzle—! "Gaaaaah…!" Grasping one of his twisted fingers, the flame scorched it. In unbearable agony, the man trembled violently. After incinerating it for a while, the youth repeated his question. "Answer me again." "I don't… I don't know. Please... please…." "Fine. Let me ask something else. Is the name of your superior Chang-Deok correct?" "Gasp…!" The instant the name Chaiju left So-yom-ra's lips, the man's body trembled with a sudden jolt. ‘How…?’ How on earth did So-yom-ra know the name Chaiju? In the Middle Kingdom, he was known only by his moniker, and seemingly no one knew his real name. Perhaps confirming from the man's reaction, the corners of Soyeomra's mouth lifted into a smile. It was a chilling sight. How could a person smile so frighteningly? "Seems I was right. You're one of that bastard's tails." "...How in the world...?" "Why is that? When you should be lying low, why come out and cause unnecessary trouble?" "...Are you perhaps familiar with Chaiju?" "Familiar, you say?" Soyeomra replied with a sly smile that crinkled his eyes. "We're sort of acquainted, close enough that I'd pop his eyes out." "..." There was no doubt about it—they were not on good terms. The man's plan to survive by leveraging connections crumbled to dust. Despite enduring the ongoing pain, his mind raced with questions. He knew some information. The Guga's Soyeomra was also among the Tang family’s convoy. But, no matter how renowned he was, he hadn't believed this individual to be as threatening as the Poison King or the master of the House of Demons. 'How...?' He recalled the orb the leader possessed—a treasure that masked the presence of both its owner and those nearby. It was said that even a peak-class master like the Poison King would find it difficult to detect unless extremely close. ‘…How did he find it?’ Soyeomra, who effortlessly pierced through such a treasure without a hitch—what was he, truly? Could it be that he was stronger than the Poison King? That couldn’t be true. Even as a legendary prodigy, that idea was far-fetched. Did he have another method? "I can hear you thinking all the way over here." “…!” Crack—! "Nngh!?" Another finger twisted painfully. Already contorted, the pain shot through him. "Why… Why are you—" "Oh, sorry, it's a habit. I'm used to talking while breaking things. Try to kill that habit, you see." Though he spoke with a bright smile, it was far from a pleasant conversation. A torture technique as if it was just a normal routine? ‘Is he really a righteous martial artist?’ The man's mind only filled with more doubt. "The capabilities of a bandit group shouldn't be this strong, should they?" "..." "Oh, that's not a question. No need to answer." With Soyeomra's words, an increasing dampness began to spread on the man's back. His voice, still not completely free of its adolescent tone, was unexpectedly gentle compared to their initial encounter. Yet the man instinctively knew. That voice carried a deadly intent within it. "The truth is, I wasn't really interested in what you had to say. After all, it’s the same old story no matter how many times you hear it." That meant he intended to kill them all from the start. So why… Why resort to this form of torture? "I needed to select someone though, someone easily fearful, a bit intelligent, and obedient." “…And that is.” "Do you want to live?" The man pressed his lips together tightly at Soyeomra’s question. Did he want to live? Of course, he wanted to live. But the presence of Soyeomra, who questioned him so indifferently, only added to his anxiety. "I'm not asking twice. Answer me." "I want... to live... I want to." Despite his apprehension, the man had to respond. Upon hearing his answer, Soyeomra nodded, seeming satisfied. “Oh, this is more of a personal question. How many did you spare when they told you the same?” “…!” "Silence is good to hear. That answer suffices. That must ease your mind, somewhat." He had never spared anyone, so was he going to be killed just like that? But Soyeomra didn’t act further after speaking. Is he simply going to leave? Thinking so brought a sense of relief, but there lay an issue afterward. ‘Is this really... living?’ His ankle was broken beyond walking, and one hand had fingers that were completely mangled. The hand might mend, but no skilled doctor could fix a ruined foot. Living like this was not truly living. As he began to delve into despair following his brief relief, Soyeomra seized the man's throat. What’s this? Didn't he say he would let him live…? "As a heads-up, brace yourself. I'm not gentle or soft like the Heavenly Demon." “Heavenly Demon? What are you saying? You promised…!” “I'll let you live. I have to if you're to work.” As Soyeomra finished speaking, the man saw something remarkable. The crimson eyes of Soyeomra began to shift to a violet color. The color was oddly beautiful, stealing his gaze for a moment even in such a dire and terrifying situation. Entranced by the bewitching eyes, he stayed still, watching him. Soyeomra then spoke to him. "What is your name?" “Jool… Joolbok is my name.” “Joolbok, right. You have one task: to return to Chang-Deok with my message using that unsteady gait of yours. That’s your job.” Just as the man pondered the meaning behind those words, something slithered into his center. An unknown energy seeped into his core. It crawled through, and then— Boom—! “Guh!!?” It rapidly expanded, consuming his entire core. What's more, it traversed even further, reaching Joolbok's heart. "Gak… gaaah!" The pain from this process was no ordinary agony. It was worse than any pain Joolbok had experienced in his life. Despite Soyeomra's promise of life, was he using torture intending to kill him? Joolbok thought that might be the case. Otherwise, what could explain the nature of this excruciating pain? ‘I don’t… I don’t want to die….’ A desperate desire for life overwhelmed him. Joolbok wanted to live. And that was indeed what Guyangchun desired. To become a demonic being was such a thing. Whether revenge was the goal or the drive for survival—something had to be desperate. Otherwise, enduring such a transformation would be impossible. Of course, had it been the Heavenly Demon in a past life, the process might have been better. But Guyangchun had no intentions of adopting such methods. To begin with, it wasn't a method he intended to adopt. This was only the second attempt, with Namgung Cheonjun being the first. Even from just this, he understood that the idea of turning someone into a demonic being without inflicting pain depended on the absurd level of control the Heavenly Demon possessed. How the Heavenly Demon made such a choice was beyond him, but Guyangchun had no such intentions. ‘Such beings don’t deserve it.’ Regardless of whether they were good or evil, there was no mercy for those standing in his path. He decided this firmly. Nokwang, from a previous life, was one of the most vile beings among the demonic. His subordinates were no different. They toyed with and slaughtered innocents, committing countless heinous acts under the demon’s banner. Reflecting on the earlier reaction, it showed that this man was no different from those scum. In this regard, Guyangchun held no particular critique. He had been a demonic being himself, claiming many lives during war through his own hands. This was mere venting disguised as penance. He had no excuses. In a fleeting moment, changes started manifesting in the man who called himself Joolbok. Though externally he seemed unchanged, Guyangchun could perceive it clearly. Demonic energy clung fiercely to the man’s core and heart. Joolbok had become a demon in Guyangchun’s hands. Witnessing this, a frown crossed Guyangchun's face. ‘Barely held it together at the second-rate level.’ Without a certain level, the host would succumb to the demonic energy explosively. From the beginning, he had noticed Joolbok's survival instincts and the relatively adequate martial realm the man possessed. That’s why he selected him from the start. Upon reaching the intermediate or peak level, controlling them with demonic energy becomes limited. At best, imposing verbal restraints or preventing betrayal was the extent of control. And the state of enlightenment requires no mention. In this regard, Joolbok was just perfect. He was at the precise level Guyangchun could handle effectively. Joolbok’s startled eyes focused on Guyangchun, as if realizing the transformation within his body. He felt the difference of having become a demonic being. His once-broken leg moved. It wasn’t fully healed. The demonic energy was merely holding together the shattered bones. Seeing this, Guyangchun stood up. Despite his composed exterior, he was considerably astounded internally. ‘Is something like this even possible?’ Though he knew it was possible with the Heavenly Demon’s energy, he discovered now that his own demonic energy could achieve something similar. Was this possible because Joolbok's martial level was low? Shouldn’t it be impossible at a lower level? This warranted further investigation. But for now, this sufficed. Because the current objective wasn’t to mend and heal others with demonic energy. Standing up, he addressed the man. “You have only one task.” Joolbok looked at Guyangchun with trembling eyes. They brimmed with fear and awe. Why do those who become demons through demonic energy view others this way? At least, he never looked at the Heavenly Demon like that. He neither understood nor cared. He was solely focused on the safety of himself and those around him. Facing Joolbok, Guyangchun continued. "Convey what I said to Chang-Deok." This was the choice he made for that purpose. Joolbok listened intently to the ensuing words. “…Stop your petty antics and come in person…. You failure?” Conveyed exactly as it was to Chang-Deok. Crack—! With a sound like that of a heavy stone chair crumbling under a clenched fist, the surroundings trembled with a formidable force. The burly man with coarse green hair. The master of the bandits gathered at Gwimunsan, Chaiju Chang-Deok, repeated the words spat by the one before him. “That brat dared to say such things to me.” “…Yes… yes, Captain.” Chang-Deok observed the messenger. Joolbok, was it? One of Godong’s subordinates who had reportedly ascended to the pinnacle last year. Recalling Godong, Chang-Deok's brow furrowed deeply. The fool had been sent to gather intel on that damned Tang family’s route. ‘Everyone died except for him?’ Hah— Even the treasured item sent to them was lost, he had heard. Caught in a somewhat absurd situation, Chang-Deok could only chuckle dryly. Crack. After briefly laughing, he gripped a spear larger than the burly man beside him and rose to his feet. “…He not only knows my name but dares to provoke me.” Called Soyeomra, was it? An intriguing fellow indeed. Chang-Deok grinned at Joolbok. His smile sent a shiver through the other bandits nearby. “Joolbok.” “Yes… Captain.” “Everything sounds good, but here’s the thing.” One doubt still lingered. “Why did you return alive?” “…Captain…?” Joolbok’s eyes wavered at Chang-Deok’s words. "If your brothers perished without achieving success, you should’ve followed them, you bastard.” “Captain…! Wai—!” “And yet, you shamelessly come back alive? You’ve got some nerve.” Growling, Chang-Deok hoisted Joolbok by the neck. Though Joolbok wasn’t a small man, he appeared minuscule next to the giant that was Chang-Deok. “Useless wretch…. I have no need for worthless men.” “P-please… spare me, Captain! Please… please!” Joolbok continuously pleaded as if he had lost his mind, crying for mercy. Yet, Chang-Deok exerted force without hesitation, witnessing his cursed pleas. “Go and thank your brothers. You wretched fool.” Crunch—! With a gruesome sound, Joolbok's neck twisted, his life abruptly ending. And then— Buzz—! “…Hm?” Joolbok’s lifeless body began to change in Chang-Deok’s grasp. It was vibrating. He was definitely dead, his eyes void of life. What’s going on? “What is this….” As curiosity flickered in Chang-Deok's mind— Bang—! Something erupted from Joolbok’s body. Blood spurted forth from his mouth, drenching Chang-Deok. “...” In an instant, Chang-Deok became drenched in blood. While others hurriedly offered something to wipe it off, Chang-Deok merely wiped his face with his massive hand. As he did, he pondered. Joolbok's sudden corpse spurting blood—what kind of trickery was this? At the very least, Chang-Deok realized one thing: it was a provocation from the person who sent Joolbok. He chuckled. Chang-Deok began to laugh loudly, wiping the blood from himself. Hahahahaha! After the laughter that echoed through the room, he grinned widely and said, “Soyeomra, was it?” The whelp who dared send Joolbok to order him to come in person. Remembering this, Chang-Deok began to walk. He had no intention of wiping off more blood than this. ‘Normally, I would approach with more caution.’ But with such a provocation, there was no other option. Smiling, Chang-Deok quietly muttered, “Gather the weapons.” With those words, the others, who had been on standby, immediately exuded their auras. Among them, Chang-Deok's ferocity and intent were the most prominent. ***************** While I was in the midst of eating, I suddenly sensed a disturbance and looked up. “Ah.” “What’s wrong?” Wi Seola placed a side dish on my rice but tilted her head at my reaction. Watching her with a slight shake of my head, I ate a large mouthful of rice. “It's nothing.” Both Namgung Biya and Moyong Hee subtly reacted, sensing something, but I had no intention of explaining. I simply clicked my tongue in my mind. Tsk, tsk. ‘I did plan to let him live as promised.’ The reason for my reaction was clear. I had realized that Joolbok had ultimately died. This was due to the fail-safe curse I had placed activating. The curse on Joolbok wasn't just to relay a message to Chang-Deok. There was an additional command that activated if it seemed he would be killed by Chang-Deok. Causing his heart to burst and spill blood. This confirmed that Joolbok met his end at Chang-Deok’s hands. I hadn’t killed him with my own hands. I just predicted that Chang-Deok would kill a subordinate like him. ‘He must be quite furious.’ Considering Chang-Deok's fiery temperament, he was likely very angry. ‘The groundwork is all set.’ Even if Chang-Deok didn’t come as expected, the initial phase of the plan was in motion. For now, it was just a matter of patient waiting. “Do you want some water?” “Yeah.” I drank the water Namgung Biya poured for me, scanning my surroundings. It was a forest no different from where I had been, yet subtle changes were present. ‘So, this is Sichuan territory now.’ We had embarked on our journey, and with summer just around the corner, we had entered the realm of our destination, Sichuan.