Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Chapter 720

"I have to ask something since I don’t know."

Late at night, after the third round of the martial tournament.

I was watching Paejon, who was training alone in the practice grounds, and asked,

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

"What did you just say, punk?"

Paejon, who was lifting a boulder the size of a room, turned to look at me.
His expression was more baffled than angry.

"So now you're cussing at your master, huh?"

"No, that’s not it..."

I stopped mid-sentence and swung my fist.

—Whoosh!
—Crash!

I shattered the boulder flying straight for my face.

My wrist throbbed.
Damn it. That bastard had wrapped Qi around the boulder before throwing it.

"Your expression is hilarious."

"Does it look good?

"It’s not bad. Didn’t I give you exactly what you wanted?"

"...Hah..."

Not bad, huh?

I sighed as I looked at the scattered debris littering the ground.

"It's as bad as it gets."

A mess.
There was no other way to describe it.

A complete mess.

"Thanks to you, the martial tournament couldn't even finish halfway."

For the third round, they had only prepared a single fighting stage.

It was built sturdy—strong enough to endure most impacts without a scratch.
Even if cracks appeared, it was designed to be easily repaired.

'But how are they supposed to repair that?'

There’s a limit to everything.

When the damage is so severe that you can’t even tell what it originally looked like,
it’s no longer repairable.

'That's not a repair job. It's rebuilding it from scratch.'

Who could've expected this?

Who would've thought that a single martial artist could completely destroy a stage reinforced with ten-thousand-year steel?

I narrowed my eyes slightly and looked at Paejon.

'He called it Shattering the Heavens.'

The fifth technique of Tua Pacheonmu—Shattering the Heavens.

The technique Paejon used against the Blade King during this tournament.
It was a power I had never witnessed before.

'...Shattering the heavens, huh?'

The name sounded ridiculously arrogant for a martial technique.

And yet—

'He might actually be able to pull it off.'

After witnessing its destructive force firsthand, I couldn't deny it.

Its sheer power had made my entire body tremble.

'What the hell was that destructive force?'

I couldn't shake the image of Paejon using Shattering the Heavens from my mind.

A compressed, swirling mass of gray energy.

When he detonated it, the resulting explosion was catastrophic.

'How did he pull it off?'

What did it feel like at that moment?
Where did his Qi flow, and how did he channel it?

'Obviously, the source was Tua Pacheonmu.'

The technique drew its power from there.

'But how did he apply it so precisely?'

The essence of Tua Pacheonmu was destruction.

Simply using it inflicted pain on the user.
It harnessed raw, untamed power to amplify its destructive capabilities.

It wasn’t just difficult to control.
It was even harder to master.

'Yet Paejon manipulated his Qi with astonishing precision.'

How the hell did he manage that?

Enduring pain was one thing.
But compressing such chaotic energy into a sphere and detonating it was another matter entirely.

And yet, something about it felt familiar.

'It’s similar to Nine Flames Firewheel.'

Compression, rotation, and amplification—just like the Nine Flames Firewheel technique.

Nine Flames Firewheel was rough and volatile too,
but it wasn’t as completely unmanageable as Tua Pacheonmu.

In other words—

'I can handle Nine Flames Firewheel, but not Tua Pacheonmu.'

And yet Paejon had done it.

Thinking about it, it wasn’t so surprising.

Even if I couldn’t, it made sense that Paejon could.

'He’s a Grandmaster, after all.'

A man who carved out his own path by creating martial techniques from scratch.

Many geniuses could master martial arts and refine their cultivation.
But only a rare few could create techniques that others would follow.

Tua Pacheonmu was passed down through a single lineage.

It had barely existed for fifty years.

And yet, it stood alongside martial techniques that had been refined for centuries.

How was that even possible?

'It’s not. But that old man made it possible.'

An artificial rebirth achieved through sheer mastery.
A technique capable of inducing a trance-like state.

Each one of those feats was enough to make history.

Paejon possessed both.

What kind of monster was this man?

'He’s definitely insane.'

That much was certain.

But for now—

'The real question is, how do I use the fifth technique...'

"You’ve got a lot of nerve calling someone crazy."

"...!"

I snapped out of my thoughts when Paejon spoke.

"You can’t focus, huh? That technique left quite an impression, didn’t it?"

He’d caught on.

Paejon could tell exactly what was occupying my mind.

"Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’ll learn it all eventually."

"...You expect me not to get ahead of myself? That’s a contradiction."

I knew he showed it to me on purpose.

The old man wanted this to happen.

'He’s just waiting for me to rack my brains over it.'

The fifth technique.

I had barely finished polishing the fourth one, and now he dangled the fifth right in front of me.

And he even—

"Ended up injuring yourself, didn’t you?"

"..."

Paejon didn’t answer. He just looked away.

I followed his gaze to his arm—the one he’d been using to lift the boulder.

It was trembling.

‘Seriously...’

I couldn’t help but sigh.

So much for being invincible.

"Did you really have to push yourself that far? Everything’s a mess because of it."

The final match of the tournament.

There were supposed to be more matches after Paejon’s fight with the Blade King.

But the matches were canceled because there was no stage left to fight on.

'Honestly, they could just fight on the ground...'

Unfortunately, this was Henan.

Not just Henan, but the territory of the Martial Alliance.

Would the Martial Alliance tolerate holding a tournament on bare dirt after destroying their own stage?

'Not a chance.'

The Alliance cared too much about appearances.

They couldn’t afford such a disgraceful scene.

—The tournament will resume once the stage is rebuilt.

That was their official decision.

'Tch.'

It threw off my plans.

'My plans are ruined.'

"My plans were perfectly timed for this."

"But now, it'll take at least two days—maybe three—just to rebuild the stage."

It was only possible to set that timeframe because they had prepared spare materials.
If they hadn’t, who knows how long it would have taken?

‘Crazy bastards. Who the hell decided to mix ten-thousand-year steel into the stage?’

Because they added that expensive material, the construction time dragged out.

'They probably thought it wouldn’t break.'

Did they expect it to be completely destroyed and have to build a new one?
Even I wouldn’t have guessed that.

Who could’ve seen it coming?

'That Paejon would be here at the tournament.'

As if it wasn’t enough that the old man reversed his aging,

who could have predicted he’d unleash his ultimate technique at the martial tournament?

‘Seriously… This is absurd.’

No one saw it coming.

And now all of Henan was buzzing with Paejon’s name.

—Paejon’s disciple, Twin Dragon Bi Eejin, demonstrated overwhelming strength against the Blade King before forfeiting.

—A shocking victory—was it an insult aimed at the Blade King?

—A hidden late-stage master—just how valuable is the Twin Dragon?

—The Divine Dragon versus the Twin Dragon. Who is stronger?

Rumors were flying everywhere.

Honestly, you couldn’t walk down the street without hearing about Paejon and his disciple.

One of the Six Seats.
The Guardian of Hebei—the head of the Peng Clan—was utterly humiliated.

And by none other than Bi Eejin of the Seoan Bi Clan, a late-stage master still climbing the ranks.

Even if he was Paejon’s disciple, the fact that the Blade King lost was simply unbelievable.

'No... It wasn’t a loss, was it?'

It was a win.
A completely disgraceful win.

I could still remember the look on the Blade King’s face when Bi Eejin declared his forfeit.

“Don’t mock me!” he had screamed, demanding death instead.

That expression—

‘Pathetic.’

For someone considered a king-level martial artist, it had been utterly pitiful.

And thanks to that, the upper echelons of the merchant guilds were scrambling.

The Blade King’s reputation had plummeted.

And now the shifting power dynamics in Zhongyuan had the guild masters moving at breakneck speed.

One duel had caused all of this.

A year of preparation, and everything had changed in an instant.

People were saying that Bi Eejin’s forfeit was a deliberate challenge to the Blade King’s authority.

That it was both a display of power and a move to elevate Paejon’s reputation while proving his own worth.

That’s what they thought.

But—

"The forfeit. That was real, wasn’t it?"

"...Hmph."

I already knew.

Paejon’s body was in terrible condition.

I didn’t even need to check closely.
With my insight, I could see it clearly.

‘His flow is completely tangled.’

The smooth flow of Qi in his body was all twisted.
On the surface, he looked fine, but his insides were a mess.

And the reason was—

‘The aftereffects of Shattering the Heavens.’

The immense power he had used in the tournament.

Its backlash had taken a toll on his body.

Seeing him in such a fragile state… What can I say?

"...I could take him down right now. Should I hit him a few times?"

"...Huh?"

"Oh, my bad. I meant it."

"What?!"

Paejon burst out laughing.
Did he think I was joking? I wasn’t.

‘I really could beat him.’

Right now, taking down Paejon wouldn’t be hard.
That’s how weakened he was.

Which meant—

'Shattering the Heavens wasn’t easy for him either.'

The backlash forced him to forfeit.

'And because he acted like nothing was wrong, everyone saw it differently.'

They thought it was meant to humiliate the Blade King.
A disgraceful victory that would go down in history.

A defeat at the hands of a late-stage master.

Because of that, people in Henan were calling the Blade King every name under the sun.

'Did he plan this from the start?'

If anyone could pull off such a scheme, it’d be that unreadable old man.

"So, why do you keep nitpicking?"

I let out a sigh at Paejon’s words.

"I just mean, did you really have to go that far? You could’ve won without doing all that."

"Then what’s the point of entering? I wanted to have a little fun."

"You nearly died looking for fun."

"If I die, you’d probably be the happiest one here."

"That’s… Okay, fair point—wait, no! That was a joke!"

I dodged another boulder flying at my head.
Can’t even joke around this guy.

Then—

"I was planning to win, you know."

Paejon suddenly added, as if explaining himself.

"But then I saw an opportunity to show you something good."

"Something good? That fifth technique?"

"Yeah."

He threw the match just to use Shattering the Heavens.

Hearing that, I was left speechless for a moment.

"What the hell…"

"Shattering the Heavens wasn’t originally like this."

"What?"

I perked up at his sudden comment.

"It was originally a simpler technique—a burst of energy from the fist. But this time, I had a good feeling, so I tried modifying it."

"Modifying it?"

My eyes widened. He modified it?

Since it was his own technique, it wasn’t strange that he could change it.

But still, suddenly deciding to modify it during the match—it left me baffled.

I stared at Paejon, fascinated.

"I got the idea from your technique."

"...!"

I was completely stunned.

Paejon had modified his technique based on mine?

'Wait a minute.'

That’s when it hit me.

The technique he drew inspiration from—was it…

"Nine Flames Firewheel?"

"Exactly."

He nodded.

The reason Shattering the Heavens had felt so similar to Nine Flames Firewheel.

'That explains it.'

I had wondered why they seemed so alike.

Shattering the Heavens had been derived from Nine Flames Firewheel.

But now the real question was—

"How did you pull it off?"

Specifically, what caused Shattering the Heavens’s explosion?

'Nine Flames Firewheel uses fire Qi.'

It compresses heat and creates friction through rotation,
then detonates it to unleash destructive power.

But Tua Pacheonmu didn’t rely on fire.

So how did it work?

The questions started piling up.

"You’re curious, aren’t you?"

"I want you to figure it out yourself."

"Huh? Figure it out?"

"That’s right. Since it’s based on techniques from your family’s martial arts, it shouldn’t be too hard. Go ahead and find it. That’s your assignment this time."

"...You’re just telling me to figure it out? It’s not as easy as you make it sound."

"When has any of my assignments been easy?"

"..."

He had a point.

The old man’s assignments were always ridiculously difficult.

And—

"This one will help you too."

Damn it.

No matter how absurd his assignments were, they always ended up being useful.
To the point where I couldn’t even argue.

"It’s about time you tried something like this. Especially..."

Paejon paused for a moment before continuing.

"For what you’re trying to accomplish."

"...!"

I swallowed hard at his words.

My lips instinctively pressed together as I stared at him with trembling eyes.

'This man...'

Just how much does he know?

His words carried a weight that struck me to the core.

It felt like every sentence was a dagger aimed straight at me.

‘He’s like a goddamn ghost.’

I couldn’t handle him.

His martial arts, his unreadable expressions—everything about him felt more otherworldly than any Taoist master.

It wasn’t the aura of kindness or wisdom.

'He doesn’t feel human.'

Paejon lacked that fundamental humanness.

He always gave off that kind of vibe.

While I stood there frozen, struggling to steady myself—

"I won’t stop you."

Paejon continued speaking as if he’d read my mind.

"It’s dangerous, but I know you wouldn’t stop even if I told you to. And besides, you’re the only one who can do it. I’ll be watching with interest."

"...Yes."

"But."

Suddenly, his eyes turned sharp, and a chilling aura washed over me.

Shiver—

The moment our eyes met, a cold shiver ran down my spine.

"Don’t throw your life away. Remember, you have a place you must reach."

"...I understand."

His obsession with passing down his martial arts—

That fixation was everything to Paejon.

A man consumed by martial arts.

Just looking at him was enough to take my breath away.

"If you’re done asking questions, get out."

Realizing the conversation was over, Paejon immediately dismissed me.
Basically, he was telling me to scram.

I looked at him and asked one last thing.

"Are we not sparring today?"

"...I can see right through you."

"That’s a shame... Really..."

I usually did everything I could to avoid sparring with him, but today was different.

When else would I get a chance to beat Paejon while he was this weak?

That thought lingered, but it didn’t matter.

Paejon clearly had no intention of sparring today.

Tch.

Clicking my tongue, I turned around.

I had already asked what I needed to, and thanks to him, I now had more homework to deal with.
I had to move quickly.

At the same time, I couldn’t get his words out of my head.

—"For what you’re trying to accomplish."

"..."

What I was trying to accomplish.

The fact that Paejon had caught on was unnerving,
but since he’d basically given me permission, I felt a little more at ease.

'...At least now I won’t have to hide it.'

What I had been working on lately—

It was this.

‘Combining Tua Pacheonmu and Nine Flames Firewheel.’

I was trying to merge the two ultimate techniques.

   
   ******************
   

A day had passed since the main tournament ended.

It was a short time—barely a single night—but Henan had already undergone countless changes.

“Wow.”

I let out a small exclamation as I looked out the window.

Since morning, the area around our quarters had been bustling with people eager to catch a glimpse of the Twin Dragon.

To make matters worse, word had spread that the Twin Dragon didn’t have a fiancée, prompting some of the noble families to start making moves.

Of course, Paejon brushed them all off without a second thought, but there were still plenty of persistent ones refusing to give up.

It wasn’t surprising.

'He might very well become the strongest under the heavens.'

The title of the Strongest Under Heaven.

A lofty and dazzling title.

Only one person per generation could claim that extraordinary position.

And now, with a young man who seemed closer to that title than anyone else appearing, it was only natural that people were desperate to secure a connection with him.

Unlike the other candidate, the Divine Dragon, who was untouchable as a member of the Shaolin Sect, the Twin Dragon was different.

He came from the Seoan Bi Clan, a family with a much lower standing.

He wasn’t the eldest son, nor was he engaged.

Who wouldn’t be tempted?

“You’ve become quite the popular man overnight.”

I smirked as I sipped my tea.

Paejon was probably completely indifferent to all of it, but seeing him deal with the hassle made me feel a bit better.

What was it people said again?

'The Divine Dragon and the Twin Dragon will push each other to grow stronger.'

Ha.

It was hilarious how people were already spinning tales of an epic rivalry.

The duel of the century or whatever.

“Ugh…”

I shuddered.

It was enough to give me goosebumps.

Seeing how quickly the Beggar’s Sect had made their move, it was obvious the Martial Alliance was behind it all.

'They made such a big spectacle of it that cleaning up the aftermath would be too much trouble. So now they’re trying to turn it to their advantage instead.'

Honestly, it wasn’t a bad approach.

The only one who got screwed over was that Blade King guy.

And—

“…Thanks to all this, I’m stuck dealing with this mess too.”

With the Blade King’s reputation in shambles, the plans I had carefully laid out were starting to unravel.

Now I had to send Cheol Ji-seon and Je Gal-hyuk to assess the situation immediately.

But since morning, I had been tied down dealing with visitors.

'Hmm...'

I set my teacup down and turned to look straight ahead.

A guest who had come to see me early in the morning.

I looked at her and spoke.

“So.”

The woman looked back at me.

Her neatly arranged white hair, pinned up with a silver ornament, caught my eye.

Despite her age, her skin showed few wrinkles, and the light makeup she wore gave her a dignified presence.

She was none other than—

“What brings the Sect Leader of Mount Emei to someone like me?”

Moon-Splitting Fist Immortal.

That was the identity of the woman who had come to see me.