Chapter 10: Nine Dragons Day (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 10: Nine Dragons Day (4)
“That’s the Young Lord of the Peng Clan?”
The man looked to be about twenty years old.
I winced as I watched him throw a childish tantrum.
Wait a second. Why was a member of the Peng Clan here? And not just any member, but one carrying the royal bloodline, making a spectacle of himself in front of everyone.
“No way.”
There was absolutely no chance this was the real Young Lord. He had to be an impostor.
A fraud with nerves of steel.
Impersonating the Young Lord of one of the Four Noble Clans was a surefire way to earn yourself a world of trouble.
Yet, a memory from yesterday—my unexpected encounter with Peng Ah-hee—flashed through my mind. I tried to dismiss it, but the thought lingered.
Nothing about this added up.
Something was fundamentally wrong here.
Besides, in my previous life, I’d never heard a whisper about the Peng Clan’s Young Lord attending the Nine Dragons Day. This should resolve itself without any issues.
Surely.
“What’s going on?”
Just as I decided to ignore the commotion and leave, I ran into the Second Elder.
“Some lunatic is causing a scene,” I replied curtly, already planning my exit. I had business to attend to and wanted to be on my way.
But the Second Elder stopped me.
“I’ve been looking for you since this morning. My back has been killing me.”
“What nonsense are you spouting? You look healthier than I am.”
“Hmm. I noticed it yesterday as well, but you’ve suddenly become quite the cheeky talker. I’d be pleased if your martial skills improved half as much.”
He ruffled my hair—and my whole head—again.
Urgh, I feel dizzy…
“Ugh… Why were you looking for me?” He could have simply sent a servant; why bother searching for me himself?
“Ah, it’s nothing important. After the match ends—”
“So why won’t you let me in? I showed you everything required! Must I demonstrate my shadow martial arts to prove myself?”
“…Please, sir, try to calm down. We are only—”
“No! I told you, I don’t have much time! You said anyone with proper identification is allowed.”
The Second Elder’s gaze shifted toward the man. Shadow martial arts were a legacy of the Peng Clan, a technique reserved solely for those of their direct bloodline.
I had a bad feeling about this and wanted to stop the Second Elder, but he was already out of reach.
“…Damn it.”
“You claim to be the son of Peng?”
The Second Elder suddenly stood before the man proclaiming himself to be the Peng Young Lord.
“G-Greetings, Second Elder!”
All the guards immediately showed their respect.
Naturally, the tournament applicants were staring at the scene as well.
“Right, good to see you all working hard. You, are you truly Peng’s son?”
The man straightened his posture. “I am Peng Woojin, Young Lord of the Peng Clan. It is an honor to meet the Flaming Fist of Gu.”
‘Flaming Fist’ was the Second Elder’s well-known title.
A smirk touched the Second Elder’s lips at the address. Did hearing his title put him in a good mood?
“So you are Peng’s son. Your physique certainly suggests it. Your face looks just like that old rascal of a Clan Lord, too.”
To call the Peng Clan Lord an ‘old rascal’… The word ‘manly’ definitely suited the Second Elder.
“So, why have you come here?”
“I came to support the swordsmen of Gu.”
“You are the Young Lord of Peng, yet you abandoned your own swordsmen?”
“It’s no fun there.”
The Second Elder laughed at Peng Woojin’s response, as if he were talking to a madman. “You are a madman. The Peng Clan has a madman in their family.”
“Thank you, sir. I hear that often.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
I suddenly noticed a black ring on Peng Woojin’s hand—identical to the one Peng Ah-hee wore.
Damn it, he’s the real deal… What in the world was he doing here, causing such a ruckus?
“I came because I heard anyone with identification may enter. Yet they refuse me even after I showed them everything.”
“…Did you obtain permission from the Peng Clan Lord before coming?”
“There was no chance he would let me leave, so I ran away.”
He really was a madman.
“You really are a madman.” For the first time, I agreed with the Second Elder. This guy was genuinely insane.
The Second Elder smirked again, his eyes appraising Peng Woojin’s body. It looked a bit perverse… “Your body is well-built. Your age?”
“I turned twenty-three this year.”
“Such a physique, and so young… Peng is raising a dragon. I wish our little rascal was at least half as capable.”
Was he referring to me as the ‘rascal’? But I didn’t feel insulted. If this man was truly the Peng Woojin I knew, then he was indeed a dragon.
Dao Emperor Peng Woojin.
That was the title he would earn in the near future.
The leader of the Heavenly Black Army, a demonic unit under the Heavenly Demon’s direct command, had once fought the Dishonored Venerable to a draw—a feat that put his martial strength beyond question. Yet Peng Woojin defeated him in single combat after countless battles had worn him down. When the Dishonored Venerable heard the news, he personally bestowed the title of Dao Emperor on Peng Woojin.
The Second Elder stroked his long beard, a sly grin forming. “He showed his identification and seems ready for a fight. Isn’t that good enough?”
What did he just say?
The guards looked as troubled by the Elder’s words as I felt.
“…But Lord Second Elder, even so—”
“What’s the problem? Isn’t this what he wants?”
“Yes, my Lord! I would be honored to enter the Nine Dragons Tournament. I truly wish to serve as a swordsman of Gu.”
“See? He wants it himself.”
The guards’ eyes shook as if from an earthquake, utterly lost on how to handle the situation.
Just as their cold sweat was about to form a puddle on the ground, a savior arrived.
“Brother!”
The person who appeared with a thunderous shout was Peng Ah-hee.
“You idiot!”
She delivered a powerful kick to his stomach, clearly channeling Qi into the blow.
“Urgh!”
Peng Woojin, caught completely off guard, flew back a short distance before tumbling across the ground.
“…Yikes, that looked painful.” Is he dead?
“You idiot! You finally earn the title of Young Lord, only to run away after leaving a short letter?!”
Not satisfied with a single kick, Peng Ah-hee rushed over and began relentlessly kicking him again.
Thankfully, Peng Woojin wasn’t dead. Sadly, he started screaming even louder.
“Ugh… Agh! Wait… Wait…!”
“You run away just to become a swordsman for another clan?! Are you out of your mind?!”
Damn, she’s aiming for spots he really shouldn’t be kicked…
“Your brother’s—ugh—gonna die! Hold—uff—on a sec—ow! Ah-hee!”
“Then die! Die, you idiot!”
“Who’s going to become Clan Lord if I die?!”
“Who cares?! Even a dog would do a better job than you!”
“Argh!”
I averted my eyes from the brutal spectacle. The Second Elder also scratched his cheek, looking equally troubled by the display.
I cautiously approached him. “Is it alright to leave them like that? He might actually die if this continues.”
“The men of the Peng Clan are built tough. You could beat them with the strongest steel and they’d survive. Don’t worry about it.”
A faint “Save me…” drifted from the ground.
“…Are you sure?”
Peng Ah-hee finally took a breath, calming down slightly after using her brother as a punching doll. Peng Woojin lay on the ground, emanating an aura that left his vitality in question.
“Get up.”
Her voice was icy, but Peng Woojin remained motionless, looking more dead than alive.
“If you don’t get up, I’m going to crush your manhood with a brick.”
“I’m up!”
Peng Woojin shot to his feet instantly, a cold sweat drenching his back at the unimaginably brutal threat.
Peng Ah-hee let out a deep sigh as she looked at him, clearly burdened by a multitude of thoughts.
“Well, I found you, so that’s what matters… Let’s go home, brother.”
Several figures clad in black appeared behind her—members of the Peng Clan, part of Peng Ah-hee’s escort.
Noticing me and the Second Elder, Peng Ah-hee momentarily started before approaching us.
“I apologize for all the trouble we’ve caused.”
“You are the daughter of Peng?”
“Yes, I am Peng Ah-hee, Senior Flaming Fist.”
“Unlike your brother, you seem well-educated. That bear of a man really has some impressive children.”
A bear-like man calling another man a bear…
“We will not forget the trouble we’ve caused here and will repay you in full. We shall take our leave now to avoid further disruption.”
“I’m not going back, Ah-hee.”
Peng Ah-hee turned, her eyes sharp as axes. “Are you really going to keep spouting nonsense?”
“I’m serious. I have no intention of returning to the Peng Clan.”
“Then what is your reason, brother? Why are you acting like this?”
“The Peng Clan is no fun.”
Why did this madman keep talking about fun? Peng Ah-hee responded as if she’d read my mind. “So the Gu Clan is fun? Are all the other clans more fun than our own? Why are you always obsessed with finding fun elsewhere?”
“It’s probably more fun there than at our place, at least.”
“Brother, please grow up. You are the Young Lord.”
“Exactly why I must have fun before I become Clan Lord. The only ways to avoid becoming Lord are to die or become permanently disabled, and I don’t care for either option.”
Peng Woojin’s eyes held a resolute finality.
“I may not want to be Clan Lord, but I see no one else worthy of the position. Aside from you, Ah-hee, everyone in the clan is just a beast bearing the Peng name. They couldn’t beat me even if they all attacked at once.”
He harshly judged his own bloodline as he spoke. He came across as prideful and arrogant, but his talent was undeniable.
“Since I can’t let you bear the burden, I will inevitably become Clan Lord one day. That is the only reason I accepted the title of Young Lord, loathsome and annoying as I find it.”
Somehow, the madman’s reasoning held a twisted logic, as if I’d gone insane just by listening.
Peng Ah-hee rubbed her temples, clearly developing a headache from the situation.
Then, the Second Elder intervened.
“I was going to let him participate, since this old man thought it would be amusing. But out of respect for the Peng Clan’s perspective, let’s make a deal.”
At his words, Peng Ah-hee looked on nervously, while Peng Woojin’s face lit up with excitement.
“I’ll let you enter if you can beat me in a fight.”
“…What nonsense are you on about?” I’d expected something clever, but no.
Even if Peng Woojin would become one of the strongest in the future, he still had much to learn. There was no way he could defeat the Second Elder.
“…Hmmm, you don’t even have to beat me outright. I’ll count it as your win if you can land a hit on me within ten attacks.”
“That’s it?”
Peng Woojin brightened at the Second Elder’s words. Peng Ah-hee, standing behind him, could only watch with nervous apprehension, unable to interfere.
“Yes, I’ll give you ten attacks. If you so much as touch my clothes within those ten moves, you win.”
The conversation ended, and Peng Woojin immediately drew his sword, falling into a battle stance.
Wait… They’re going to fight right here, with all these people watching?
“Wait—”
I tried to stop them, but the Second Elder’s fist flashed toward Peng Woojin’s face in an instant.
-POW!
A sound erupted that no mere punch should make. Peng Woojin crumpled to the ground.
This wasn’t like his fall from Peng Ah-hee’s kicks.
…He might actually be dead this time.
“I controlled my strength. He’ll wake up soon.”
“…Second Elder, weren’t you only going to dodge?”
“I never said that.”
This old man…
“Anyway, the problem is solved now, right?”
“But was punching him really the only solution, especially when he’s the Young Lord of the Peng Clan?”
“When a man is annoying, shutting him up is the simplest solution.”
“…Violence shouldn’t always be the answer.”
“How dare you call it violence?! It was a duel.”
“…But you said he wins if he touches your clothes. Doesn’t that mean he won, since he touched your fist?”
When I pointed out the flaw in his logic, the Second Elder let out a conspicuously fake cough.
He definitely hadn’t thought that far ahead.