Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Chapter 747

The time was just past noon.

The sun hung high in the sky, yet it wasn’t particularly hot.

Perhaps because the season had already shifted to autumn.

A breeze blew by, ruffling my hair.

I hadn’t bothered to take care of it, so it should’ve felt rough, but thanks to my transformation, my skin and hair always stayed in good condition.

‘Maybe that’s why it feels so annoying.’

Swish.

I grabbed my long hair and tied it back.

Finally, it felt a bit less bothersome.

Now that I’d roughly fixed it, the strands that had been blocking my view were cleared away, and my vision opened up.

The first thing that came into sight was the cracked sparring stage.

The traces of battles between Hwagyeong-level martial artists were clearly etched into the ground.

They’d supposedly reinforced the sparring stage after reaching the Eight Directions, yet I couldn’t help but wonder where all their money was going.

What a pointless waste, I thought.

Crack.

I lightly rolled my wrist and looked up. This time, it wasn’t the stage I saw but people.

One of them was the referee, visibly tense to the extreme.

The reason for that was probably mostly my fault.

‘It must be the aftermath of the last match.’

I hadn’t caused too much of a commotion during my fight with Sword Dragon, but the match against Divine Dragon had stirred up quite the incident.

That was likely why the referee was so nervous now.

‘I do feel a bit bad.’

But what could I do?

If you’re getting paid, you have to earn it somehow.

And from my experience, the Murim Alliance didn’t exactly pay poorly.

Judging by his armband, he seemed to be close to a vice-captain level, so he was probably earning a decent amount.

He should earn his keep.

‘And.’

There was another reason why the referee was so on edge.

I shifted my gaze slightly to see the cause.

Rumble.

There stood a towering figure, nearly eight feet tall.

Broad shoulders and muscles so thick they seemed to burst from his frame.

It was Blade King, Peng Zhou.

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at me.

And I could clearly sense the difference from before.

‘That old man isn’t playing around with his Qi this time, huh?’

Last time, he’d flared his energy everywhere, pulling all sorts of ridiculous stunts.

But now, he was completely still.

The subtle aura of a strong opponent still emanated from him, but that was unavoidable.

The wild and overflowing Qi from before had been reined in, sealed tightly within his body.

Yeah. He looked much better this way.

It was far more pleasing to see him not wasting his energy on useless displays.

However.

—“Who’s going to win this time?”

—“Who knows? It’s still Blade King, after all.”

—“Come on, So Yeomra defeated Divine Dragon. You think he’ll lose to Blade King?”

—“But Blade King is one of the Six Seats. It’d be a bit much for him to lose to someone at the late-stage of youth.”

—“Then are you saying Twin Dragon wasn’t at the late-stage level?”

—“…That’s because Twin Dragon was trained by Paejon…”

A flood of noise pricked at my ears.

Hearing all that nonsense almost made me laugh out loud.

‘What a mess.’

How had Blade King fallen to this point?

People were actually debating whether he could beat me or not.

Sure, my value had skyrocketed recently, but Blade King’s had plummeted just as much.

‘Tsk.’

Maybe that’s why his expression was so twisted.

I did feel a little sorry for him.

But what could I do? He should blame Paejon for beating him so badly.

Besides, if I was being honest, people’s real interest wasn’t in the outcome of this match.

What they were truly curious about was who would win if I fought Twin Dragon.

Twin Dragon had beaten Blade King.

I, So Yeomra, had defeated Divine Dragon, the youngest Hwagyeong.

Since the match between us had been interrupted and we never got to fight, the speculation only grew stronger.

Who was stronger?

Who was the true ruler of the late-stage level?

‘Hah.’

The obsession with rankings was tiresome.

What did it even matter?

‘Damn old man.’

I frowned in irritation.

The fact that people were so fixated on this nonsense only proved how shocking Paejon’s display had been.

‘And it’s made things more complicated for me.’

Paejon’s overwhelming performance had made my position a lot more troublesome.

Even if he’d forfeited due to internal injuries, his sudden withdrawal only fanned the flames.

Now no one would ever know the answer.

Who was stronger between So Yeomra and Twin Dragon?

No one would ever find out.

And that meant all the attention had shifted here.

I found that frustrating.

‘I should’ve wrapped this up properly.’

It felt like I’d split the attention with Paejon.

‘Don’t tell me… he planned this.’

Twin Dragon, withdrawing while still being praised and celebrated.

Could Paejon have anticipated all this?

‘…You never know.’

He was unexpectedly sly.

Maybe he’d calculated this outcome.

The problem was, I had no way of finding out.

‘It’s frustrating, but what can I do?’

The water was already spilled.

Besides.

‘I do have a way to fix this.’

That was at least some consolation.

Just as I was thinking that and tilting my head slightly—

“Where are you looking?”

Blade King’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Are you really thinking about something else while standing in front of me?”

“Ah, my apologies. I got distracted for a moment.”

I apologized honestly.

But Blade King’s frown didn’t ease up in the slightest.

“…You really are insufferably arrogant. I suppose it’s natural, being that man’s son.”

“Hmm.”

I quietly repeated two words to myself and replied.

“Children taking after their parents is natural, I suppose. But in that sense, Lord Peng should be relieved.”

“What?”

“Your son doesn’t resemble you at all, does he? In more ways than one. Isn’t that truly fortunate?”

Honestly, I thought Peng Woojin was slightly better, but that wasn’t the point here.

As I said that with a smile, the old man’s brow furrowed even further.

“It seems I’ll need to tear that mouth of yours apart to shut you up.”

“What a frightening thing to say.”

“The world’s praises have gone to your head, haven’t they? You’re insufferable.”

Boom.

Blade King’s composure hit rock bottom.

Even upon closer inspection, his size remained overwhelming.

“Don’t delude yourself. I may have made a mistake against Twin Dragon, but there will be no such miracle for you.”

“Hmm….”

I scratched my cheek as I listened.

“Lord Peng, you keep pretending not to know.”

“Pretending not to know?”

“Why do you keep calling it a miracle? You, of all people, should know the truth better than anyone.”

I noticed a faint tremor in Blade King’s eyes.

It seemed he’d caught on to what I was implying.

“Why keep dressing up what was clearly a one-sided beating? Does calling it a miracle make you feel better?”

“…!”

Crack.

A rough grinding sound came from Blade King’s mouth.

“You got your ass handed to you, plain and simple. Did you hit your head too hard back then? Is that why you keep spouting nonsense?”

As I spoke, I casually scanned my surroundings.

At the same time, I layered Qi into my voice.

It wasn’t a sound transmission technique—just enough to prevent my words from carrying too far.

“Stop acting tough and just hold your sword properly. Weaklings who run their mouths tend to end up getting beaten even harder.”

“You bastard…!”

Creak—!!

Blade King’s muscles tensed, swelling as if he’d lunge at me at any moment.

Even then, my eyes continued scanning the area.

‘Roughly 15 minutes.’

That was about how much time I had left.

I let the thought settle as I glanced toward the rear.

There was the hall where the Central Plains’ envoys and the highest-ranking figures had gathered to watch.

I gave it a quick look and nodded.

‘Not bad.’

It was acceptable.

Satisfied with my assessment, I turned to the referee.

“I think we’re ready. Shall we get started?”

“...Pardon?”

The referee looked startled by my words.

He clearly knew that something was wrong with Blade King’s state.

“It’s fine. Go ahead and start.”

I waved him off dismissively.

Even as I said that, Blade King’s killing intent grew heavier.

“I swear on my name.”

Clearly fed up with my attitude, Blade King gripped his sword, and the weapon groaned under the pressure.

“I will crush you here and now.”

Hearing that, I smirked.

“That’s one of the most common lines I’ve heard. Funny how not a single person who said it ever succeeded.”

Those who uttered such words to me always ended up one of two ways.

Either groveling beneath my feet…

Or with their heads ripped off by my hands.

So which one would Blade King be?

“I won’t get my hopes up. I just humbly ask for one thing.”

Clench.

I flexed my fingers a few times before tightening my grip into a fist.

“15 minutes.”

Crack.

I clenched my fist even harder and said,

“Just hold out for that long.”

That was all I expected of Blade King.

   ****************
   

This was during Blade King’s early days as a late-stage prodigy.

It was back when he wasn’t called Blade King but was instead known as Black Dragon.

Now, they were referred to as the Six Dragons and Three Phoenixes, but back then, there were only two phoenixes and five dragons.

Five Dragons, Two Phoenixes.

This was a story from the days when Peng Zhou was part of that group.

Not autumn, but winter.

It was the peak of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering.

At that time, Black Dragon was far more hot-tempered than he is now.

He was still immature, pampered excessively by the Blade King of that era, and carried a sense of inferiority about his talent, making him especially rebellious.

Backed by one of the Four Great Clans, he had the skills to rise as a dragon, but he’d only barely managed to secure that position.

Pushed from behind by the rising stars of smaller families.

Blocked in front by the untouchable bloodlines of noble clans.

Everything seemed to be cornering Peng Zhou.

And to make matters worse, this particular story took place the day after he suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of Namgung Jin, the Sword Dragon.

—“You son of a bitch…!!!”

Crash—!!

Peng Zhou spewed curses and smashed the table to pieces.

—“I… I lost to that damn pretty boy—!!!”

Having lost to Sword Dragon and been knocked out of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, Peng Zhou was seething with rage.

The atmosphere in the inn was frigid.

The other patrons shrank back in fear, and even the martial artists present didn’t dare to intervene.

After all, Peng Zhou wasn’t just a late-stage prodigy; he was also the next head of the Peng Clan.

If anyone laid a hand on him, there was no telling how the Blade King would respond.

Everyone knew how much the Blade King cherished Peng Zhou.

—“What the hell am I lacking—!!”

Crash! Clatter—!!

The memories haunted him.

The number of empty bottles scattered around was uncountable, but as a martial artist, he barely felt drunk.

Shards of glass littered the floor.

Peng Zhou’s thoughts were as chaotic as those broken bottles.

He kept replaying the moment he was overpowered and thrown to the ground by Sword Dragon’s Monarch Blade Form.

—“Aaaaaah—!!”

Bang! Crash—!!

As Peng Zhou rampaged and smashed everything in sight, something caught his eye.

The women who had been clinging to him earlier had already fled.

The other patrons were cowering against the walls, avoiding eye contact.

But there was one exception.

Just one person.

One person in the entire inn who continued eating as if nothing was happening.

A bowl of plain noodles in front of him, eating silently without attracting attention.

He was so quiet that Peng Zhou hadn’t even noticed him until now.

Gulp.

The faint sound of swallowing rang out.

—“…Who the hell are you?”

Unsettled, Peng Zhou picked a fight.

—“How can you eat at a time like this? Does that food even go down?!”

He shouted, then hurled a bottle.

But—

Whoosh—! Clink.

The man casually caught the flying bottle and set it down on his table as if nothing had happened.

It was such a natural movement.

Peng Zhou’s expression twisted as he watched.

And then, the man looked up at him.

—“...!”

Peng Zhou flinched, his body stiffening.

He didn’t know why, but the moment he saw the man’s eyes, his body locked up.

The man looked about his age, with black hair and eerily crimson eyes.

A familiar face.

—“Hah… Of all people, it’s you.”

If he remembered correctly, the man was a member of the Gu Clan’s bloodline.

A newcomer to the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering who had performed well in the friendly sparring matches.

Rumor had it he’d even defeated the Little Dragon of Wudang.

What was his name again?

—“Gu Cheol… Gu Cheol-something?”

—“Gu Cheolwoon.”

The man’s voice was low and weighty, making Peng Zhou click his tongue.

—“Yeah, Gu Cheolwoon. That bastard. What the hell are you doing here?”

Annoyed, Peng Zhou snapped.

Gu Cheolwoon casually tilted his head and raised his chopsticks.

—“Isn’t it obvious? I’m eating.”

—“Do I look like I’m asking about that?!”

Bang! Bang!

Peng Zhou stormed toward Gu Cheolwoon and grabbed the table, intending to flip it over.

Creak.

—“…?!”

But the table wouldn’t budge.

Instead, Peng Zhou’s hand trembled as he exerted force.

What the hell?

Peng Zhou’s eyes darted around and finally noticed something.

Gu Cheolwoon’s hand was resting lightly on the table.

Could that really be the reason?

Impossible.

That would mean Peng Zhou, who prided himself on being the strongest among late-stage prodigies, was losing in raw strength to this guy?

It didn’t make sense.

He refused to believe it.

And yet—

Flash—!

—“Ugh?!”

Suddenly, the table shot into the air.

The recoil threw Peng Zhou off balance, making him stumble backward.

Thud—!

Noodles rained down on Peng Zhou’s head.

Crash—! Crack—!!

The table crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

—“What a shame.”

Gu Cheolwoon muttered.

—“It’s rare to find something that suits my taste, and now it’s wasted.”

That was all he said, as if disappointed.

—“…Ha… Hahaha…!!”

Peng Zhou burst into laughter.

The sound sent chills down the spines of everyone in the inn.

It was clear he wasn’t in his right mind.

—“You bastard… Do you even know who I am?! Are you trying to die?! I’m from the Peng Clan of Hebei—!”

—“Not interested.”

Gu Cheolwoon’s cold reply cut Peng Zhou off mid-sentence.

—“You son of a bitch!”

Creak.

Gu Cheolwoon slowly rose to his feet.

Peng Zhou’s eyes widened as he took in the sight.

He was massive.

Perhaps even larger than Peng Zhou himself.

—“I have no interest in your name.”

Thud.

Peng Zhou’s heart pounded loudly in his chest.

It started the moment he locked eyes with Gu Cheolwoon.

Those crimson eyes bore down on him from above.

Faced with that gaze, Peng Zhou felt his body instinctively shrink back.

—“W-what… did you just say?”

No interest?

—“You arrogant bastard… How dare you—!!”

Grab—!

—“Ack!?”

Peng Zhou flinched, trying to lunge forward.

But before he could react, a massive hand shot out and grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing his mouth open.

The hand easily encompassed Peng Zhou’s large face.

The other hand reached into his mouth.

At first, Peng Zhou struggled to resist.

But strangely, his body wouldn’t move.

It wasn’t that his pressure points had been sealed—he’d merely been grabbed by the face, yet his entire body felt frozen.

Later, he would realize it was the killing intent crushing down on him.

But by then, it was already too late.

At that moment, Peng Zhou—

Could do nothing against the bloodlust radiating from Gu Cheolwoon.

Crunch—!

—“Ghhhk…!? Ghhhh!!”

His molar were ripped out.

Even then, he couldn’t resist.

The hand brushed over the exposed socket where the tooth had been.

And then—

Sizzle—!!!

—“Aaaaargh!!!”

A burning heat seared the wound shut.

Peng Zhou screamed in agony.

Unable to fight back, he writhed in pain.

Only after he had flailed for a long while did Gu Cheolwoon finally let go.

Whoosh! Thud—!

He tossed the extracted tooth back at Peng Zhou.

Then, wiping his saliva-covered hand casually on his clothes, Gu Cheolwoon spoke with an indifferent expression.

—“I’ll consider this payment for the noodles.”

His words were calm.

Hearing them, Peng Zhou’s body convulsed in rage.

—“Hrrg… y-you… you bastard…”

Struggling to form words, Peng Zhou cursed.

Gu Cheolwoon stepped closer, staring into his eyes.

—“What?”

—“…!”

—“Got more to say?”

—“Gh… guh…”

—“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

Peng Zhou wanted to scream.

To shout, “Do you know who I am?! I’m Peng Zhou of the Hebei Peng Clan!”

He wanted to assert his dominance over this bastard.

But—

—“I said, speak.”

His instincts screamed at him.

If he said another word, he’d die.

No, he would absolutely die.

Peng Zhou’s instincts and Gu Cheolwoon’s eyes told him that much.

—“Hhh… gghk…”

Pride and fury filled Peng Zhou to the brim, but in the end, he shut his mouth.

His pride wasn’t worth his life.

—“Hah… ha…”

Peng Zhou let out a shuddering breath instead of speaking.

Gu Cheolwoon watched him silently for a moment before turning away.

—“Good thing I didn’t bother learning your name.”

And as he slowly walked away, Peng Zhou heard his parting words loud and clear.

—“You’re not worth remembering.”

Gu Cheolwoon’s voice sliced into him like a blade.

Peng Zhou gritted his teeth, humiliated beyond belief, but even as Gu Cheolwoon exited the inn, he couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

Crunch.

He clenched his fists.

He made a vow.

He would kill that bastard.

No matter what it took, he’d kill him.

Even if he had to beg his clan master for help or handle it himself.

He would never forget this humiliation and would one day see Gu Cheolwoon destroyed.

But—

Peng Zhou’s ambition was never realized.

Because not long after, Gu Cheolwoon soared far beyond his reach.

‘Gu Cheolwoon…’

The grudge that festered in his heart.

It grew to the point where he even tried to use his daughter as a pawn in an engagement scheme.

That, too, fell apart, but Peng Zhou had never once forgotten that day.

And that’s why—

—“Peng Zhou of the Hebei Peng Clan versus Gu Yangcheon of the Shanxi Gu Clan.”

He could see it now.

That damned brat who resembled Gu Cheolwoon.

The one with those same cursed eyes.

The bastard who inherited his father’s monstrous talent.

Even if the boy’s appearance wasn’t an exact match,

Something about his presence reminded Peng Zhou far too much of Gu Cheolwoon.

‘If he’d just shown an ounce of submission, I might’ve let it slide.’

But no.

He was just as arrogant and insufferable as his father.

Brazen enough to stand up to the head of the Peng Clan.

Peng Zhou hated him.

Twin Dragon.

And this brat.

Clench.

—“Begin!”

He would destroy them both.

He’d tear them apart no matter what.

Black Iron.

Whirr—!!!

Dark Qi surged and enveloped his blade.

Blade King gripped it tightly and launched forward with all his strength.

In an instant, the distance between them closed.

And the full weight of Peng Zhou’s emotions bore down on Gu Yangcheon.

Clang—!

Whoosh—!!

Boom—!

“…What…?”

Peng Zhou blinked.

Something felt off—his hand felt too light.

His eyes darted around frantically.

He looked at his right hand.

It was empty.

The blade that should have been firmly in his grasp was gone.

Where the hell did it go?

When did it—?

—“Ah, fuck. Seriously.”

The curse pierced his ears.

Whoosh—!

Blade King’s vision spun.

Crunch—!!

—“Guhh!”

His face was stomped into the sparring stage, smashing through the surface and burying him in debris.

—“Aaaaaah!!”

A scream ripped from Blade King as searing pain overwhelmed him.