novelcity
Chapter 754
Chapter 754
“Cheonma….”
Hearing the name, the Sword Saint’s expression immediately darkened.
“Just as I thought.”
His voice, brimming with restrained hostility, trembled slightly.
“You’re the one who turned Wudang into rubble.”
[Ah.]
Cheonma responded, almost as if he had just remembered.
[That’s right. That did happen.]
His tone was casual, indifferent—like recalling a trivial event.
The Sword Saint’s expression contorted further.
It wasn’t just any place—it was Wudang’s stronghold.
Not only had an intruder breached it, but one of their elders had also been killed.
That incident had nearly shattered Wudang’s standing.
And yet this man acted as if it wasn’t even worth remembering.
[My apologies.]
Perhaps noticing the Sword Saint’s reaction, Cheonma smirked.
[It was such an insignificant matter that I must have forgotten.]
“…You—!”
The Sword Saint nearly exploded, but—
“Tch…”
Grinding his teeth, he managed to restrain himself.
He couldn’t afford to lose his temper—not with so many eyes watching.
“Let me ask you… Are you behind this?”
He chose to first confirm the truth.
[Hmm.]
Cheonma tilted his head slightly, then—
[Old man of Wudang, it seems you’re mistaken.]
His voice rang out as though he were explaining something to a child.
[I never gave you permission to ask questions. Why do you presume to speak?]
“What…?”
[Do not misunderstand.]
Ssssshhhh.
The black energy thickened, spreading further.
[I do not converse with insects.]
“…!!”
Insects.
The Sword Saint’s face turned crimson.
[Yet, I am indulging you today because I happen to be in a good mood.]
Chuckle.
Cheonma stepped closer, approaching the barrier.
[Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be able to lift your head before me.]
Arrogance dripped from every word.
Even with so many warriors gathered, each possessing considerable strength,
Cheonma carried himself as if they were all beneath him.
No one could understand how he dared to act so brazenly.
And then—
Cheonma drew nearer to the barrier.
Inside, warriors struggled to break free, their eyes blazing with hostility.
“You…!!”
The elder hadn’t noticed them, but Cheonma clearly did.
Many of them glared at him as though ready to pounce.
Yet Cheonma simply walked forward, unfazed.
When he finally reached them—
[Be still.]
Hummmm—!!!
“…!”
“Guh?!”
Cheonma’s voice froze them in place.
[Do not even breathe until I permit it.]
“…Ngh…!”
Their bodies obeyed.
At a single command, dozens were rendered motionless.
It was overwhelming.
Cheonma passed through them, his movements slow and deliberate.
The warriors trembled, powerless to resist.
Hummm.
As he neared the barrier, the faint hum of energy resonated.
The force binding those inside was incomprehensible, its principles and weaknesses unknown.
[It seems this cage is rather fitting for you. Trapped like livestock—it suits you well.]
The insult drew stiff expressions from those within.
[Heh.]
Perhaps finding their reactions amusing, Cheonma laughed softly.
And then—
“…Release this barrier at once!”
The Sword Saint’s voice erupted, his face red with fury.
“If you’re so confident, face my sword!”
His pride had clearly taken a blow.
It seemed he was prepared to fight Cheonma to the death.
Cheonma’s response?
[You’re so beneath me, I almost feel compelled to show you what the heavens look like.]
Hummm.
As he spoke, Cheonma’s feet began to lift from the ground.
At the same time, the elder—supposedly a member of the Jegal Clan—rose into the air as well.
[But I have more important matters to attend to.]
“Running away?”
The Sword Saint sneered, mocking him.
But Cheonma’s tone remained unchanged.
[Old man.]
He fixed his gaze on the Sword Saint.
[If you truly believe you can fight me, what do you think qualifies you?]
“If you’re just going to spew nonsense, save your breath—”
[Are you speaking as the head of Wudang? Or as the leader of the Martial Alliance?]
“….”
The Sword Saint’s words faltered.
His mouth opened, but no sound followed.
Cheonma smirked, as if expecting the hesitation.
[You don’t even understand your own identity. That’s why you are unworthy to face me.]
“You arrogant—!”
The Sword Saint finally managed to shout, but Cheonma had already lost interest.
[Bring a better answer next time.]
“Stop—! Release this barrier now!”
[For now, watch. Witness how your rotten peace crumbles.]
Boom—! Boom! Boom!
The Sword Saint poured Qi into his sword, slashing at the barrier.
But it absorbed the energy, dissipating his attacks.
[Be grateful.]
Cheonma smirked.
[Today, I’ll let this go as a simple introduction. But next time, there will be no mercy.]
Ssssshhh—!!!
The black energy surrounding him began to retract, swirling back into his body.
The dark mist collapsed inward.
[This is the festival I’ve prepared for you.]
Everyone—both inside and outside the barrier—stared at him.
Faces filled with fury, dread, and helplessness.
Some trembled, others shouted.
But Cheonma’s voice cut through it all.
[So enjoy it.]
And with those final words—
Whoooosh—!!!
Boom—!!
The black orb exploded in a flash of light.
When the light faded—
Cheonma, the elder, and the orb were gone.
The only evidence of their presence was the warriors gasping for breath,
“Haa…! Huff!”
“Cough!”
Struggling to recover after holding it in, they staggered.
Even the spectators’ faces were filled with dismay.
They had stood powerless before the one who caused this disaster.
Seeing this, the Sword Saint—
“Aaaaargh—!!!”
—could no longer hold back his rage and let out a primal roar.
****************
Boom—!! Boom—!!
“Kill them all—!”
“Kugh—! Form up the ranks!!”
“Protect the civilians—!”
Boom—! Rumble—!
Explosions and chaotic shouts filled the air.
The atmosphere, heavy with martial artists’ Qi, collided with the unnatural signs unfolding in the sky.
The scene painted nothing short of a catastrophe.
Amid the chaos, a young man silently strode forward.
He wore a black martial robe.
Faint golden embroidery shimmered within the fabric.
A black ring adorned his finger—a mark of the direct bloodline of the Peng Clan.
The Blade King, Peng Woojin.
Though handsome, there was something unsettling about his presence.
Supporting his father, the Blade King, Peng Woojin walked without hesitation.
He was far from the heart of Hanan’s chaos.
Nowhere near where the Peng Clan’s warriors had gathered—yet he pressed on, step by step.
After walking for some time—
“Kill them—!”
“Hold out just a little longer! The spell will soon be complete!”
Clang—! Clang, clang—!!
Sounds of battle echoed from an isolated area.
Peng Woojin’s ears twitched at the noise.
He halted mid-step.
Thud—!
Carefully, he laid his unconscious father down.
The Blade King collapsed without resistance.
Shink.
At the same time, Peng Woojin drew his blade.
It was slimmer and smaller than the one his father, Peng Zhou, wielded.
Ssshhk—!
With a single step, the surroundings shifted—
And in the blink of an eye, he appeared in the midst of battle.
Whoosh—! Clang—!!
Blades clashed all around him.
Peng Woojin had stepped into the very heart of the slaughter.
“What the—?!”
“Who is—?!”
Surprise spread among the combatants.
But it was short-lived.
Slice—!
A sickening sound followed.
A severed head rolled across the ground.
Peng Woojin’s blade had decapitated a man in black robes.
Before anyone could react—
Shhhhhhhhk—!!!
Peng Woojin’s blade moved so quickly it became a blur.
“Guhack!”
“Aaaaagh!!”
Screams erupted as bodies fell one by one.
Thud.
Limbs and torsos littered the ground, blood pooling beneath them.
Despite the carnage, Peng Woojin remained expressionless.
Not a trace of emotion crossed his face.
Then—
The warriors he had saved approached him cautiously.
“Th-Thank you for saving us.”
Still shaken, they struggled to process how quickly the battle had ended.
Peng Woojin turned his gaze toward them.
They wore light blue martial robes with white embroidery—Murim Alliance warriors.
The leader stepped forward.
“I am Mo Woonseong of the Azure Dragon Division. Perhaps you are the son of the Blade King?”
Peng Woojin gave a slight nod.
Mo Woonseong’s face lit up with relief.
“Ah! I thought so…! Thank you so much. We were completely unprepared for this sudden attack.”
“What’s going on?”
Perhaps grateful for the assistance, Mo Woonseong readily answered.
“It seems Hanan has come under siege. They say the disturbance in the sky is their doing.”
Peng Woojin glanced back at the horizon.
Now that he looked closer, the attackers wore matching uniforms.
“A siege…”
“Yes… They targeted our weaker positions, catching us off guard…”
“Perfect.”
“…Excuse me?”
Slice.
“Huh?”
Something brushed against Mo Woonseong’s neck.
Confused, he reached up to touch it—
Splurt—!
Blood gushed out.
His head began to tilt, then fell clean off.
“Captain Mo?!”
His comrades panicked—
Slash—!!
—but another man was cut down before he could finish speaking.
Peng Woojin’s blade showed no mercy.
In mere seconds, the remaining Murim Alliance warriors were all dead.
The pool of blood expanded.
Squish.
Peng Woojin’s footsteps squelched as he walked through the blood-soaked ground.
Without hesitation, he turned away and headed back—
To where Peng Zhou lay.
When he arrived—
“Ugh… huh….”
Surprisingly, Peng Zhou was beginning to regain consciousness.
“Hnnngh… Ugh… Ah….”
Groaning in pain, he scrunched his face and opened his eyes.
“…Where… am I?”
“You’re awake.”
Peng Woojin greeted him calmly.
Peng Zhou’s gaze shifted to his son.
“…Young Master.”
“You should’ve stayed unconscious. I imagine the pain is unbearable.”
“Where is this place…? Ah!”
Suddenly, Peng Zhou’s eyes widened as memories resurfaced.
“That bastard! Where is he?!”
‘That bastard.’
Peng Woojin smirked slightly, already guessing who his father meant.
“Are you referring to Gu Yangcheon?”
“Yes! That damned Gu family brat…! Where is he?!”
The son of Gu Cheolwoon.
The one who left him in this miserable state.
Peng Zhou ground his teeth, barely suppressing his rage.
“I’m not sure. I really don’t know.”
Peng Woojin’s tone was utterly devoid of emotion.
But Peng Zhou, lost in madness, failed to notice.
“If you don’t know, then find him! Mobilize the entire clan if you have to—find him and bring him to me!”
“…Hmm.”
Had he gone completely mad?
Peng Woojin studied his father’s unstable state and asked calmly,
“And what do you plan to do once you find him?”
“What else? Tear him apart! Yes… carve him up piece by piece and send his mangled corpse to that bastard Gu Cheolwoon as a gift. Hahaha!”
“...”
Peng Zhou’s eyes burned with nothing but hatred and revenge.
Pathetic.
Watching his father’s wretched state, Peng Woojin subtly nodded.
“Understood.”
“Good. Now, let’s inform the elders—”
Stab—!
“…Guh—?!”
Pain pierced through his chest.
Peng Zhou looked down.
Something was lodged deep in his heart.
Cough—.
Blood bubbled from his lips, veins bulging against his pale skin.
“You… you…?”
Peng Zhou stared at Peng Woojin in disbelief.
His son’s blade had run straight through his heart.
“W-What… are you doing…?”
“What a strange question.”
Peng Woojin smiled.
It was the brightest smile he had shown in recent memory.
“Even for such an incompetent father, I’d expect you to figure this much out.”
“Cough—!”
“I am,”
Thrust.
He drove the blade deeper into Peng Zhou’s chest.
“…succeeding you, Father.”
“Y-You… bastard…!”
“When I was a child… I always wondered.”
Was it when he first began to speak?
Or perhaps later? It didn’t really matter.
What mattered was—
“Just how long would you remain useless?”
Peng Woojin was certain now.
“Until the day you die, Father, you’ll always be useless.”
“Krrrgh—!!!”
Peng Zhou grabbed the blade, desperately trying to pull it out.
But Peng Woojin’s grip didn’t waver.
“Cough…! Ack…!”
The pain worsened, blood pouring out faster.
His vision blurred.
“Why… why…?”
He couldn’t understand.
Why would his own son betray him?
Peng Zhou’s head swirled with questions.
Peng Woojin understood his confusion.
“Yes. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”
Even if he had waited, Peng Woojin would have inherited the clan eventually.
The other bloodlines were weak—pathetic excuses for heirs.
Killing Peng Zhou wasn’t necessary.
And yet—
“I don’t care whether you understand or not.”
Peng Woojin didn’t care at all.
“So die as you’ve lived—weak and pathetic.”
Slash—!
“Guhh…ahhh….”
He pulled the blade free, unleashing a final torrent of blood.
“Hah… haah… huh….”
Peng Zhou gasped for air as if clinging to life,
But it wasn’t long before the light faded from his eyes.
Thus ended the Blade King, Peng Zhou—
The head of the great Peng Clan.
“...”
Peng Woojin stared at the lifeless body.
His expression hardened as he turned away.
He had work to do.
Hum—.
“…!”
His senses flared.
Peng Woojin moved instantly.
Whoosh—!!!
Something shot toward where he had just been.
Boom—!!
The ground exploded, sending debris and dust flying.
“...”
The blast left the earth shattered.
“Hehehehehe.”
A sinister laugh echoed from the dust cloud.
Peng Woojin frowned.
Whoooosh—!!
A gust of wind cleared the dust, revealing the source.
A massive man with wild green hair stepped forward.
He wore dark robes and wielded a massive crescent blade, as large as his own body.
Who was he?
Peng Woojin gripped his blade tighter.
It didn’t matter.
Whoever he was—he had to die.
“So it’s you.”
The man’s bloodlust mirrored Peng Woojin’s.
“I could feel it even from afar. That monstrous energy… it’s you.”
Roar—!!
The man’s Qi surged, and Peng Woojin’s eyes widened.
“…Color?”
In his world of muted gray,
The man’s form began glowing with violet hues.
It was… beautiful.
The thought lingered for a moment before—
Buzz—!
Peng Woojin swung his blade.
Dark energy gathered along its edge.
The man responded in kind, swinging his crescent blade.
Clang—!!!
The clash marked the start of their battle to the death.