Chapter 11: Follow Only the Family (1)
Chapter 11: Follow Only the Family (1)
My entire body was trembling uncontrollably.
I wanted to collapse right then and there and fall into a deep sleep.
I felt like I should do something to stop the bleeding, but since I didn't know how, I decided to just leave it. For now, I had no choice but to trust the resilience of this Hebei Peng Family body.
I forced my fading eyes wide open and surveyed the situation before me.
"However, unlike you, I will not give you a choice."
My grandfather walked forward slowly, looking at the old man with cold, indifferent eyes.
Watching him, a thought occurred to me.
That old man was a master of some cult, though not the Demonic Cult. Judging by his actions and words, he was a master who had reached at least the Peak Realm.
And yet, such a master had lost an arm to a mere flick of my grandfather’s hand.
Looking at his face, it seemed he had lost his will to fight along with his limb.
The emotion I felt while looking at that old man was the same one the old man was now feeling while looking at my grandfather.
I want to be like that.
If I was going to wake up in the Martial World anyway, that was the kind of person I wanted to be. An absolute being who commanded all affairs of the world according to his will stood right before my eyes.
It was dazzling. This wasn't mere admiration.
Like that!
It was greed. A greed so poignant I had never felt it in my entire life—including my previous one. A greed to possess that power, to stand at that height, and to live like that.
It was a thought that had never even crossed my mind back when I was drinking myself into a stupor because I couldn't find a job, sleeping in a cheap studio apartment.
The greed flowing through the blood of the Hebei Peng Family was roaring to life.
The Hebei Peng Family had always been a clan of those who were honest with their desires and threw themselves unreservedly into achieving them.
You could call it ambition, or you could call it avarice.
It was the very first thing one learned when studying the history of this family.
The founder, Peng Dan-san, burned down the Sutra Library of the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song two hundred years ago, seized the original manuscript of the Five Tiger Single-Door Blade, and established the Peng Family.
The fourth-generation patriarch subjugated the Unorthodox sects scattered around the Yellow River and laid the foundation for the Dragon Slaying Alliance.
The third-generation patriarch founded the Black Path Demonic Alliance, unified the Unorthodox Martial World, and crossed the gates of the Jongnam Sect during the Righteous-Demonic War.
Every one of them had burned through their lives in pursuit of their desires, and I was the lowest-ranking member of the direct lineage in whom all that blood flowed most strongly.
"What we... what the Cult desired was only that girl."
"It didn't seem that way to me."
My grandfather’s gaze shifted to me for a brief moment.
In that split second, I felt a massive surge of internal energy tap against my body without any physical movement. With just that, the blood flowing from the wounds all over my body stopped.
The old man bit his lip and shouted at my grandfather.
"If you seek an apology for this matter, I shall take my own life! But that girl must be handed over to the Cult!"
"Your neck has no value."
"Family Head Peng! Please reconsider. Do you truly wish to oppose the Cult? Are you not afraid of the Cult Leader?"
At those words, the elders surrounding them let out a collective sneer.
However, not even a hint of a smile appeared on my grandfather’s lips. He asked back with his usual face—a face so dry it was bleak.
"And were you not afraid of me?"
"That... that is...!"
Slash.
That was the end. I only realized my grandfather’s hand had moved after the edge of his blade had already come to a halt.
The old man’s head, caught in that trajectory, flew up vainly before rolling across the ground, spraying blood.
Only after seeing the headless corpse collapse and confirming that Hwa-yeong was safe behind it did my tension finally snap.
Seeing my grandfather turn toward me, I finally allowed myself to sink to my knees and collapse.
I’d worked hard enough for a seven-year-old.
Let’s just rest a little today.
The world turned dark in an instant.
* * *
"There are no fatal injuries to the meridians or acupoints."
The elder spoke as he quickly tended to the collapsed Peng Hyeon-hwi.
Though there were lacerations all over his skin, there were no critical injuries to his internal pathways. It was a relief. The elder let out a deep sigh and looked toward the Family Head.
Peng Ik-jin was not looking in their direction.
With a strange light in his eyes, he was surveying the slaughtered corpses scattered all over the pavilion.
"He killed them with the Hunyuan Blade."
"Pardon? Ah, yes."
"It wasn't a proper Hunyuan Blade, but a mere imitation of the form... as if he clumsily mimicked a martial art he had only seen performed once without ever being taught."
"Yes."
"This boy killed them. A child who has only just learned the Hunyuan Art and the Mountain King Steps used the Iron-Crushing Hammer and the Hunyuan Blade to kill grown warriors."
As Peng Ik-jin reached out, Peng Hyeon-hwi’s body rose on its own.
Floating up in a slow, gentle arc, Hyeon-hwi’s body was pulled into the Family Head’s arms.
A seven-year-old body. A small, light boy. A faint breath that could only be heard if one listened closely.
After inspecting the boy’s body, the Family Head’s expression hardened for a moment as he placed a hand on the child’s head.
After re-checking the child’s condition several times with a delicacy that was uncharacteristic of him, a deep smile finally spread across the Family Head’s face.
"Peng Jeon-gun."
"Yes, Family Head."
"You were right. He is a talent far too precious to give away."
"...Yes, Family Head."
"Since I arrived here because of your quick wit, it is no different from you having saved this boy yourself. Tell me what you desire."
"I hope... that the Young Master may study the martial arts of the direct lineage."
To Peng Jeon-gun, who was prostrated with his head bowed, the Family Head gave a cold laugh and shook his head.
"You overstep your bounds."
"Pardon...?"
"Regardless of your merit, this is something the boy won over for himself. I shall grant you a different reward, so do not commit any further insolence."
"Yes, yes, Family Head."
As Peng Jeon-gun backed away, the Family Head’s expression hardened into a cold mask. He looked down at the decapitated corpse of the old man.
"He was one of the elders of the White Lotus Cult... specifically the Hwaeom White Lotus Sect. He was known as Jang Wol-sang, the Sword Blood Ghost Demon, a man who reportedly betrayed the Dark Ghost Gate to join the White Lotus Cult. The Dark Ghost Gate will be pleased."
The Family Head gave a short nod at the words of the elder, who was inspecting the old man’s severed head.
He turned his back and headed toward the street.
On the main road where the sun was setting, the warriors of the Peng Family were lined up, waiting for him.
Black martial robes with red sleeves.
Those red sleeves symbolized the blood the Peng Family had shed over the past two hundred years, and the blood that had flowed because of them. It was a symbol of the power of a clan that stood atop all those blood debts and survived despite all that resentment.
Before them, before the prostrated warriors of the Peng Family, the Family Head’s voice rang out.
"Recite our family motto."
"Follow only the family."
"Indeed. Follow only the family. Our only law is the family law, and our loyalty is directed only toward the family."
The Family Head walked between the naturally parting ranks of warriors, cradling the small, injured child carefully in his arms.
"If one is of the Peng Family, even if they are at the furthest edge of a branch line, if they carry the family name and our blood flows within them, we must protect them no matter who they are."
That was the family law. The most powerful commandment of this clan.
If a member of the Peng Family shed even a single drop of blood, that blood debt must be paid back in lives.
That was how the Peng Family had survived in this land facing Beijing and Hebei.
So that even if the whole world became their enemy, no one would dare even think of touching a member of the Peng Family.
By trampling them thoroughly and brutally.
They used that violent and merciless action as a warning. So that never again would anyone dare lay a finger on a member of the Peng Family.
So, how much more so for the direct lineage?
"Do what you do best."
At the Family Head’s words, the warriors raised their heads.
Every single Peng warrior lined up there looked into the Family Head’s eyes, savoring every single word.
"Crush them, kill them, burn them, and display their severed heads. If anyone is connected to this matter, burn them away until not even a blade of grass remains, and proclaim this fact to the entire world. Raise the family flag over every action. Let even the blind see it, and let even the deaf hear our name."
There were no passersby in the vicinity. The street, usually bustling with people, was currently submerged in silence.
The commoners avoided places where Peng warriors gathered, other martial artists were suppressed by the Family Head’s aura, and even the Imperial Army and the nobility pointedly ignored the disturbance on the street.
In that space, the Family Head’s voice pierced through the suffocating silence to reach his kinsmen.
"If they are linked to those mongrels of the White Lotus Cult, show absolutely no mercy. Push them until they can no longer endure. Provoke them until they can no longer hold back. Slaughter them until they are forced to reveal their sluggish bodies."
At the end of the street, in front of the massive gatehouse of Gwang-an Gate, stood the four-horse carriage of the Hebei Peng Family.
Walking up to it, the Family Head turned his head to look at the gathered Peng kinsmen.
"Bring the White Lotus Cult Leader to me."
There is no lightness art in the footwork of the Peng Family.
They do not learn techniques to flee, nor do they learn techniques to chase.
They simply lead the opponent to approach, to enter the Peng Family’s range, and then they walk—slowly, grandly, and without obstruction.
The Family Head demanded the head of the White Lotus Cult Leader as the price for today’s events.
And so, it would be.
*
Ah, it’s a familiar ceiling.
I blinked blankly, staring up at the ceiling.
The texture of the blanket and the shape of the ceiling were both familiar.
It seemed I hadn't died, fortunately.
I had opened my eyes safely in my bedroom in the Purple Tiger Hall.
It hurt like hell, but at least it didn't feel like any of my limbs had fallen off.
I forced my parched throat to move and spoke.
"Nang-rang... Nang-rang? How long was I out?"
"Ten days."
The voice came from above my head.
It wasn't Nang-rang’s voice, but an old man’s.
In that moment, goosebumps broke out all over my skin.
It sounded too much like the voice I’d heard right before I lost consciousness, and it would be a problem if the owner of that voice was found in the Purple Tiger Hall.
I ignored my creaking body and forced my head to turn.
"I didn't think I would spend ten days on a mere babe."
"Grandfather...?"
The Family Head was sitting at the desk, reading a book.
In his hand was the scripture I had been transcribing right before I left—the Book of Rites.
"Do you not know that an old man’s time is more precious than a young man’s?"
"Uh... well... yes, yes."
As soon as I opened my eyes, the strongest man in the Unorthodox world was trying to engage me in small talk.
With a kind, smiling face I had never seen before.
"U-uh, goo-goo ga-ga?"
This situation was definitely not in my plans.