Chapter 748: Begin. (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 748: Begin. (4)
When was the first time he felt he had hit a wall?
He couldn’t remember.
It wasn’t because it had never happened, but because it had happened countless times.
Such was his life—a relentless cycle of facing one endless wall after another.
They say the life of a martial artist is defined by such struggles, but to Peng Jeowoo, nothing was more humiliating.
Why did so many walls have to stand in his way?
He could have understood if they were his seniors, but the ones lined up before him were his own peers.
The first wall he faced was the Sword Dragon.
The grandson of Namgung Jeolcheon, the Azure Heavenly Sword and current Lord of the Namgung Clan, he was the man most likely to become the clan’s Young Lord. Being of a similar age, he was constantly compared to Peng Jeowoo.
And ever since their first meeting, Peng Jeowoo had never once managed to gain the upper hand against the Sword Dragon.
Beyond him, there were others: the White Dragon and the Little Dragon. The Poison Dragon and the Sword Phoenix. The White Phoenix, and more.
Peng Jeowoo had managed to secure a place among these outstanding young prodigies under the title of the Ink Dragon. But even so, his standing remained unchanged.
He was the lowest of the low.
He was barely holding onto his position, even with the prestige and support of his great clan bolstering him. That was the extent of Peng Jeowoo's talent.
Ambiguous. Neither here nor there.
He was far too lacking to be called a genius, yet he was a cut above a dullard. He stood exactly where an ordinary person would. Most people might have been satisfied with that, to some extent.
But Peng Jeowoo was not most people.
I… am the son of the Dao King.
The current Dao King, the Lord of the Peng Clan, was Peng Jeowoo’s father. He was a martial artist of profound character and exceptional skill. As the master of one of the Four Noble Clans, his influence was immense.
Yet his son, Peng Jeowoo, was always shadowed by the assessment that he fell short.
Hobugyeonja.
A tiger father begets a dog son.
It was a label that fit Peng Jeowoo perfectly—and for him, it was a brand from hell.
Lacking talent despite his bloodline. A talent that bore no resemblance to the Lord of his clan. He was falling behind his peers, who grew more formidable by the day. These failures gradually tightened a noose around Peng Jeowoo’s neck, sinking him deeper into a pit of inferiority with each passing day.
Time flowed on. Just as he was reaching his breaking point… an incident occurred.
The Dragons and Phoenixes Tournament, a tournament held periodically. This year, a new announcement was added to the usual martial arts festival. The Murim Alliance declared that the Heavenly Dragon would be chosen at this tournament.
In the current Central Plains, the title of Heavenly Dragon signified the greatest prodigy of the generation. But it was also a symbol of the one who would lead the Central Plains into the future.
As a massive crowd gathered and interest reached a fever pitch, one question was on everyone’s mind.
Who would become the Heavenly Dragon?
Would it be the Sword Dragon of the Namgung Clan? Or perhaps the White Dragon of the Moyong Clan? Maybe the Little Dragon, or the Poison Dragon of the Tang Clan?
The debates raged, but a few common assumptions emerged. First, everyone was certain the Heavenly Dragon would be chosen from among the established Dragons and Phoenixes. Second, the Ink Dragon was never mentioned.
It was a testament to the incredible standing the Dragons and Phoenixes of that generation held—and it made the Ink Dragon’s insignificance painfully clear.
When Peng Jeowoo first heard this, he roared in a fit of uncontrollable rage. But not long after, something happened that enraged him even more.
The birth of the Heavenly Dragon.
Right after the tournament ended, the Heavenly Dragon was crowned as scheduled. But surprisingly, it wasn't someone from the ranks of the famous Dragons and Phoenixes.
The Gu Clan of Shanxi.
Though a clan belonging to the Orthodox Faction, it was a family that barely scraped the fringes of the noble houses. It was a place whose name was barely known, with almost no representative figures to speak of.
From such a place, a Heavenly Dragon was born.
A man of the Gu Clan of Shanxi’s bloodline.
The Heavenly Dragon, Gu Cheolun.
The young man, who had appeared at the Dragons and Phoenixes Tournament for the first time, defeated every single Dragon and Phoenix to take the seat of the Heavenly Dragon.
And that fact…
“What utter nonsense—!”
…became the trigger that caused the rage Peng Jeowoo had been suppressing to explode.
“How in the world does a bastard like you become the Heavenly Dragon—!”
One night, as everyone was preparing to return home after the tournament, Peng Jeowoo sought out Gu Cheolun.
“This is absurd… Why you—! A bastard like you…!!”
His face was flushed, thoroughly drunk. With his internal energy, he shouldn't have succumbed to alcohol so easily, but he had drunk enough to become completely intoxicated. He felt he couldn't have endured the reality otherwise.
At Peng Jeowoo’s appearance, Gu Cheolun simply stared at him.
“I see.”
Then, as if he’d just realized something, he continued.
“You’re that bastard from back then.”
“What…?”
“It took me a moment to remember.”
At those words, Peng Jeowoo let out a hollow, ragged gasp. The incident at the barracks the other day—did he mean he had forgotten him entirely, even after what had happened?
“Haha… ha…?”
The corners of Peng Jeowoo’s mouth curled upward. Why did it have to be this bastard? Why did this man, of all people, have to ascend to a height Peng Jeowoo couldn't even dare to dream of?
Not from the Four Noble Clans or the Ten Sect Alliance. Some nameless mongrel had appeared out of nowhere and snatched everything away.
He wanted to kill him. If it was impossible here, then he would do it after returning to his clan. He wanted to destroy this bastard one way or another.
“He became the Heavenly Dragon…?”
It happened in an instant. It hadn't even taken a few days for that bastard to soar to a height far beyond his own—a position Peng Jeowoo had craved his entire life. And it had taken that bastard only a few matches to steal it away.
“This is impossible.”
He knew the man was strong. He knew the bastard was strong enough to leave him broken at the barracks, but Peng Jeowoo couldn't accept it. The bastard who ignored and trampled him was to become the Heavenly Dragon? That couldn't be allowed.
“I see. So that’s why.”
And so, he uttered words he never should have.
“The Gu Clan of Shanxi, was it? What kind of trick did you pull?”
“Hm?”
At the mention of his clan, Gu Cheolun tilted his head.
“You couldn't have risen this high through honest means. You must have pulled some strings behind the scenes. Otherwise, none of this makes any sense.”
He was so drunk his vision was blurring. Even though he could barely see, Peng Jeowoo continued speaking as he stared into Gu Cheolun’s vivid red eyes.
“What kind of witchcraft did you use! How could something like this happen in that pathetic, unheard-of clan?”
Yes, it had to be witchcraft. Otherwise, it made no sense.
“You said you were the Lord’s son. What in the world did your father do? Or was it you? If so, tell me. Just what did you have to do to—”
Suddenly, Peng Jeowoo’s sneering mouth snapped shut.
“Ugh.”
A single, choked cry.
With that sound, Peng Jeowoo felt his body tilt.
Whoosh—! Thud.
His vision dropped sharply as one of his knees hit the ground. He couldn't even process what was happening when—
Smack—!
His head whipped to the side. Pain flooded in a second after the impact. His cheek stung as if the skin had been torn away.
Only then did he realize: he had been slapped.
“You son of a bitch—!!”
Peng Jeowoo, filled with rage, tried to lunge forward.
Smack—! His head was snapped to the other side.
“Keuk…!”
Smack—! Slap! Smack—!
The sounds erupted in rapid succession. Each time, Peng Jeowoo’s head jerked violently.
“Keoheuk.”
Drip.
Blood flowed from his nose and mouth, dripping onto the dirt. As his cheeks burned, Peng Jeowoo swallowed a mouthful of blood and lifted his head.
“Are you done barking?”
Gu Cheolun was looking down at him with those red eyes. They were the same eyes as at the barracks, but they seemed even more vivid in the darkness.
Drip.
The blood flowing from his mouth trickled down his neck, soaking his robes. In that moment, the alcohol-induced haze vanished completely.
“You…!”
But his anger did not subside. To be humiliated like this—unable to accept what had just happened, Peng Jeowoo tried to scramble back to his feet.
Grab—!
“Gaaah!?”
Gu Cheolun’s large hand clamped onto him before he could rise.
Ssk—!
“Guuuh…!”
Peng Jeowoo’s massive frame was caught in Gu Cheolun’s grip and hoisted into the air. He struggled, but the situation was exactly like the barracks. He was completely overpowered, his efforts utterly useless.
“You should be grateful,” Gu Cheolun said. “I was told not to kill anyone in Henan, so I cannot kill you. This is fortunate for you.”
The moment he heard those words, goosebumps broke out all over his body. The killing intent laced in every word began to stab into Peng Jeowoo’s senses.
“Which makes it unfortunate for me. If not for that, I wouldn't have had to listen to such useless barking in the middle of the night.”
“Let… let go of me… I, I am… of the Peng Clan…” Peng Jeowoo wheezed.
“As I said last time, I don’t care.”
Gu Cheolun had no intention of listening.
Squeeze.
“Grrgh…”
His mouth was forced open. A terrible premonition flashed through Peng Jeowoo’s mind. Don’t tell me—
“It would be a shame to have only one molar missing, so I’ll even it out for you.”
The premonition became a brutal reality.
CRUNCH—!
“Ggeoeok!”
His remaining molar was ripped out.
Ssss—!!!
This, too, was the same as last time. The wound was instantly cauterized shut. He let out a muffled scream from the searing pain.
Immediately after, Peng Jeowoo’s body collapsed to the ground. Gu Cheolun had released his grip. Just as Peng Jeowoo was about to writhe from the unbearable pain…
CRACK—!
“Kuaaaack!”
Gu Cheolun kicked and stomped on the leg he had already broken once before.
“Don’t move. If I put any more force into it, you’ll never use it again.”
“…Guh… ughhh… heuk… ghh…”
“Peng Jeowoo, son of the Dao King.”
“…!!”
At the words that followed, Peng Jeowoo’s eyes widened. Gu Cheolun had said his name.
He seemed like he didn't know my name before, but now?
“You bastard…? How do you know my name… Don’t tell me, you did this to me knowing who I was?”
He had reduced him to this state, knowing he was of the Peng Clan’s direct bloodline?
“Are—are you not afraid of the Peng Clan!”
Even as Peng Jeowoo shouted, Gu Cheolun’s expression didn't flicker.
“Do you think that name will protect you?” He was merely indifferent. “If you think so, then go ahead and try.”
He lowered his tall frame to meet Peng Jeowoo’s eyes.
“I fear nothing. If you think you can do something, then by all means, try.”
“…”
Shudder… Shudder.
Peng Jeowoo immediately grabbed his own arm. He wanted to hide the limb that was trembling uncontrollably. Gu Cheolun watched the shaking arm for a moment, then stood up and turned his back.
“I will now turn and walk away,” Gu Cheolun said. “I’ll give you a chance to attack me from behind before I’m gone.”
“What… What did you say?”
“If you truly want to, then try it. But know this—there will be no next time after that.”
Peng Jeowoo stared, unable to comprehend. But Gu Cheolun said no more.
Step.
He began to walk away slowly, as if keeping his word. Watching Gu Cheolun’s back, Peng Jeowoo’s heart began to pound.
Attack him from behind? In this situation?
Despite the fear, Peng Jeowoo’s hand was already gripping his beloved sword. He looked at the back of the man walking away as if he didn't have a care in the world. His mouth throbbed with a pain so intense it felt like his jaw was being torn apart. The bastard who had pulled out both of his molars and humiliated him was right there.
Can I cut him down now? Right now, can I kill him?
Clench.
His grip on the hilt tightened. Am I supposed to stay still after being humiliated like this? He couldn't.
With that resolve, he tried to draw his sword.
Freeze—!
“…Ghhdk.”
Peng Jeowoo couldn't move.
The image of those red eyes meeting his flashed in his mind. The memory of that grip on his neck, the power that had crushed him—it lingered in every fiber of his being. He clenched his teeth so hard they felt like they would shatter.
He had to draw it. He had to draw his sword and swing it at that bastard.
But.
“Guhk… ugh… ghhheuuu…! Fuck…”
In the end, Peng Jeowoo couldn't move. The strength left his hand. He had given up, paralyzed by terror.
Just then, Gu Cheolun’s voice drifted back from a distance.
“A pity. I could have secured a justification. Your patheticness has saved you.”
Thud—!
Something rolled to a stop in front of Peng Jeowoo. It was the molar Gu Cheolun had just ripped out.
“Take it with you. It’s disgusting to carry. I hope that the next time we meet, you won’t bark so carelessly.”
Tremble, tremble.
Hearing those words, Peng Jeowoo couldn't say a thing. He waited until Gu Cheolun’s figure disappeared from sight, remaining in that spot and enduring the pain.
That was the memory. A terrible nightmare that he could never, ever forget. The eyes that had looked down on him. The pride that had been trampled. He would never forget them as long as he lived.
So why?
“Kuaaaack!”
Not even by that bastard, but by his son? Why am I suffering this fate at the hands of his son?
That was the thought that flashed through Peng Jeowoo’s mind as he was sent flying through the air.