Chapter 125: War of Extermination (6)
Chapter 125: War of Extermination (6)
Even commoners who have never encountered a fragment of martial arts can clearly sense certain things.
They know that the god-like master floating in the sky is extremely dangerous.
They know that the moment he wishes it, a human body will be scattered so thoroughly that not a single shred of flesh will remain, and that every single move of such a being can reduce grand pavilions and ancient palaces to dust.
They know that the mystery called martial arts, which tears the heavens asunder and makes the world tremble, is erupting from the body of just one man.
And they know that by that one man's will alone, the life and death of everyone present is decided.
"Th-That—"
From a distance, the commoners, who had been watching with the same heart as one observing a caged beast, are struck with horror.
So are the soldiers of the local government who were managing them. From high-ranking officials to the noble flower-like aristocrats of prestigious families, everyone feels it.
Even someone who has never seen a wild beast in their life feels a mortal threat when they see a charging bear.
Martial arts is no different. What would happen when that fist, which had been unleashing thunderous roars until a moment ago, was turned toward them was all too obvious.
I'm going to die.
Before emotions like shock, panic, or terror could set in.
There was simply a calm confirmation. The recognition of unavoidable death came first. It all happened too suddenly for fear to even well up.
Therefore.
"Eon Do-cheooooon!!"
The intention of the young man screaming from beyond the crumbled wall was clear.
"If I collect your head, I'll have all three generations of the Eon family! Give me your head!!"
To anyone with eyes, it was obvious that he was acting like a beater, deliberately drawing the gaze of an enraged beast to act as bait.
Everyone knew that there was no one here capable of withstanding the Fist King's ultimate technique. Even that sturdy young man would be crushed like a mere insect under such overwhelming power.
Because they knew this, the spirit he displayed stood out even more.
"The... Blade Earl...?"
Above the flagpole the young man waved, two characters written in a single, sweeping stroke fluttered beneath the sky.
The city of Jinju recognized the Blade Earl.
*
I quickly organized my thoughts. First, I succeeded in drawing his attention.
I only need to endure one strike. No more than that is necessary. Peng Ik-cheon has already pierced the Fist King's chest.
With that one punch, the Fist King poured out all the Primordial True Qi he possessed without reservation.
Therefore, I only need to hold out for a single second. After that, the Heavenly Roar Fist will surely die.
Can I do it?
I can only describe this as my bad habit. I want to blame it on the Peng bloodline.
Once I grasp an enemy's intention, I have a temperament that cannot rest until I've thwarted it. As for what happens after, I couldn't care less.
When that simple and explosive temper flared up, I truly couldn't hold it back.
Crunch!
Even as I thought this, I was thrusting my fingers near my heart.
I had been preparing for this from the moment I read Eon Do-cheon's thoughts and provoked him.
Crackle!
My Middle Dantian surged violently. I forcibly twisted open the acupoints of the Middle Dantian, which had been emitting Astral Energy.
The sensation of True Qi spreading through every extremity of my blood vessels followed with a stinging numbness.
Coolly speaking, my realm is equivalent to the early Peak Realm. I haven't fully woven together the martial arts I possess, and I still struggle to release the Astral Energy Realm without obstruction.
So, even if I forcibly awaken my Middle Dantian and strike my acupoints, the realm I can reach is obvious. It's barely at the level of the mid-Peak Realm.
I can't block that with such a level. I will surely be crushed into a formless pulp.
"Then I'll just die."
I threw away my saber. This wasn't an attack I could deflect with the Linked Saber, and the Thunderbolt Severing the Heavens was specialized for cutting and thus useless here. So, with bare hands, I channeled the Astral Energy into both palms and pulled up the Thunderbolt City-Destroying Cannon. This was the most powerful strike I possessed.
Should I be terrified just because death is right before my eyes?
I'm sorry, but my family's tradition isn't like that.
If we're angry, we act.
If it looks like we'll die, we die.
If it's worth living, we resist.
If we want to kill, we kill.
When you've been taught that way your whole life, the attitude itself becomes ingrained.
When I feel I must do something, being unable to hold back is a habit by this point.
*
The martial artists dispatched from the Orthodox sects of Shanxi also had eyes.
In fact, they perceived the situation more clearly than the commoners of Jinju did.
The Heavenly Roar Fist had gone mad. Instead of using his life-saving ultimate technique as a final struggle, he was trying to slaughter the commoners in the city.
Had he fallen into Qi Deviation? Or had he lost his reason upon seeing the ruins of his family, whose extermination was now certain?
But naturally, such things were not important.
Clang.
They gripped their weapons simultaneously. The orders given to them were to observe the progress of the situation and then retreat.
In this situation where the Hebei Dragon Slaying Alliance had risen, they were scouts dispatched to ensure those bastards didn't take advantage of their momentum to invade Shanxi.
However.
"Blade Earl, Peng Hyeon-hwi."
That name lingered on everyone's lips. To be in the Peak Realm at that age was no small achievement, and with the martial prowess he showed at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, it wasn't enough to say his future was bright.
His name had already spread widely within the Orthodox sects.
He was the young man who had made them lament that the Dragon Slaying Alliance's prestige would increase greatly in the next generation.
But, seeing him now.
"Protect the Blade Earl."
While the martial artists of the Orthodox sects were looking away, the righteousness of stepping forward to face death himself to protect the commoners was truly...
It was no different from forcing shame upon them.
The martial artists of the Orthodox sects who had surpassed the Peak Realm leaped into the fray all at once.
From the great sects called the Three Stars of Shandong, including the Huangfu Family, the Shandong Yue Family, and the Mount Tai Sect, to the martial artists of the medium and small sects positioned beneath them.
And.
All the experts of the Dragon Slaying Alliance, who had not missed Eon Do-cheon's actions, Peng Hyeon-hwi's conduct, and the movements of the Orthodox martial artists amidst the rapidly changing situation.
"Protect the Beheading Blood Wolf!!"
"Reckless brat."
I looked up at that voice. Seong Ryang-ha was standing crookedly, clicking his tongue while holding two short sabers crosswise. And beside him.
A giant man holding an axe had appeared and stood there before I knew it. A massive physique that looked as if even a blade couldn't pierce it, and an aura befitting that stature. Hwang Jung-man of the Heavenly Thunder Alliance.
And another figure beside him, and yet another beside that one.
Thump, thump, thump.
As if resonating with the sound of the aura exploding from my heart, the internal energy of those surrounding me echoed like drums.
All the martial artists in this area who had reached at least the Peak Realm lined up like a wall.
They drew their swords. They gripped their sabers. They clenched their fists and thrust their spears.
The symbol of the Peak Realm manifested before them. Astral Energy (罡氣). One by one, the stars of heaven that signify destruction gathered.
They formed a constellation.
KABOOOOM—!!
Toward the fist that had suddenly closed in, toward the death falling from the heavens.
Each gripping their own weapon, each unreservedly pouring out their life-saving ultimate techniques, resisting even when death was right before them. That is the true essence of all martial arts.
CLANG—!
The human body's acupoints are compared to the Heavenly Bow Diagram in the night sky and called a microcosm, and the constellations that connect those individual meridians in a winding path are called martial arts.
If that is so.
Then this constellation formed by the righteous people of the human world gathering together could well be called a macrocosm.
And the constellations that connect the individual techniques and ultimate arts of those martial artists in a winding path...
Could well be called the Gangho.
"Eon Do-cheooooon—!!!"
Regardless of whether they were Orthodox or Unorthodox, the Gangho shouted from this spot.
Transcending Righteous and Demonic, transcending favors and grudges.
Wishing only for the death of one man.
*
Eon Do-cheon panted, his head burning with fever.
A saber was still deeply embedded in his back.
He had allowed a strike from a peerless master. His chest had been pierced, and his insides were a complete mess. His acupoints were twisted, and his organs had ruptured.
However, at the realm of a peerless master, the concept of 'death' does not exist unless the head is blown off in a single stroke.
"You bastards!! You vermin—!!"
It was because Intent could interfere with reality. An intensely powerful will could, in itself, shape phenomena.
The Intent originating from a fully opened Upper Dantian took physical form. It moved his internal energy and blood flow in place of his torn and ruptured organs and meridians.
It was not a technique that could be sustained for long. It was a miracle that could barely be maintained for the brief moment before consciousness faded. However, even that brief moment was enough.
Because that alone was sufficient to trample all those vermin gathered here in Jinju.
"Fine, I'll kill you all. Since it's come to this, I'd rather—!"
He slammed his fist down. It was a punch delivered with all the realm and internal energy he had accumulated throughout his life.
Pure destruction erupted, an attack that even a martial artist of his own realm would have to focus entirely on evading rather than defending.
And before it.
CLANG—!!
A single hand blocked the way. A single, incredibly weak blade and the small energy contained within it. A humble Astral Energy, not even enough to be compared to a candle in the wind. That is exactly what the full power of a martial artist who had just reached the Peak Realm was like.
Naturally, it was smashed and scattered. That martial artist, after delivering his strike, was pulled by the hand of the martial artist standing behind him and flung outward.
Behind him, another martial artist's weapon blocked the way.
Crunch, craaaaack!!
In that manner, countless spears, swords, and axes were broken. It was like a tree standing before a surging tsunami. How could a mere single tree possibly calm the sea?
However.
How could a mere tsunami possibly overturn such a vast forest?
Crunch. Crackle.
Every time the force contained in the fist strike collided with the Astral Energy, it scattered minutely.
Even if each piece was insignificant, they accumulated enough that now.
CLANG—!!
Two fists, carrying lightning, collided with his fist.
A meager force that originally wouldn't have even been able to attempt a block finally brought the Fist King's full power to a halt.
Just by blocking that broken and consumed force, the young man before him was vomiting blood, his internal organs in turmoil.
With hands trembling as if his arms were broken, and even as he shed tears of blood.
Eyes burning with a brilliant blue light looked down at the old man.
Flutter—!!
Right beneath the Peng family banner, he gripped the wet hair of the exhausted Fist King.
"A sixty-year cycle ago, the blood debt committed by your family was already settled by my grandfather, and the price for the schemes your family has carried out since then has been settled by your descendants. At the very least, I will not demand a blood debt from you."
Between two families that had been entangled in struggle for nearly a century, how could a blood debt be one-sided?
Regardless of where the grudge began, could this long-standing resentment be divided into pure victim and pure perpetrator?
There is no such thing as a line dividing black and white in this world.
Everyone living in the Gangho is inevitably gray to some extent.
Therefore. At least in this matter.
Peng Hyeon-hwi did not demand a blood debt. This grudge was not his, and the bloody incidents that occurred in his grandfather's generation had already been offset by what they had done to each other.
"Therefore."
He pulled out the saber embedded in Eon Do-cheon's chest.
A single, heavy Peng family saber was lifted into his grip.
From that impact alone, Eon Do-cheon vomited blood and trembled in pain.
Yet Eon Do-cheon still glared at him with smoldering eyes.
Without letting out a single groan, containing only hatred and murderous intent.
"I will end the old grudge between our two families with this."
There was no longer any True Qi contained in the hand that swung the saber. It was an ordinary strike delivered by an exhausted martial artist.
With a strike that contained neither the subtleties of martial arts nor powerful internal energy, an attack no different from that of a commoner.
Thwack.
Cutting through flesh, taking the bone.
Slide.
The head of the peerless master who had spanned an era fell.
Peng Hyeon-hwi took it, closed the staring eyes, and took down the two heads that had been hanging and swaying from the Peng family banner.
Holding the heads of three generations of the direct line, he walked toward the burning pavilion.
With staggering steps, with a precarious gesture as if he might faint at any moment.
—Bulmangdang (不忘堂).
He walked all the way to the ancestral tablets of the Eon family ancestors, where old grudges slept and refused to be forgotten, and laid them down.
"I conclude the War of Extermination."
The plaque of Bulmangdang broke and fell into the flames. Peng Hyeon-hwi walked outside, looked at it, and thought.
The grudges that refused to be forgotten all fell asleep within the flames. It is a cold day.
When the fires are extinguished and spring returns, someone else will build a new home here and live.
And so it will be forgotten.
The rage of the Peng family, who lost countless kin. The tenacity of the Eon family, who carved resentment into their hearts once again due to the bloodbath that occurred in retaliation.
The Gangho of the old generation will remain only as history, becoming rumors, and eventually fading away into the legends of the future.
So now, after today.
"To my fellow travelers of the Gangho, to the righteous heroes of the world, this humble Peng makes a request."
Peng Hyeon-hwi bowed his head toward the martial artists in the area who were still watching him.
To all the martial artists of Hebei, encompassing both Orthodox and Unorthodox.
"Now, from this day forth, please let no more blood flow."
Having said that, he collapsed.
Most of the martial artists of the Jinju Eon Family were already dead, their pavilions and fields were destroyed, and even the martial lineage that had remained had scattered and vanished.
The direct descendants, who would have carved the grudge deepest into their marrow, had scattered or died in great numbers according to Eon Do-cheon's orders.
Those who remained were only a tiny few martial artists who had resisted because they couldn't flee, women who wailed because they had nowhere to go, and young children who didn't even know of the grudge's existence.
The martial artists who looked upon those survivors also lowered their weapons.
"At least as long as that heroic man is alive, the Shandong martial world need not be wary of the Dragon Slaying Alliance's tyranny."
An elder of the Shandong Yue Family murmured so. No one refuted those words.
The Jinju Eon Family had fallen. Those who resisted were all dead, but no further bloodbath occurred.
The survivors of the Eon family would each scatter and be able to live as ordinary commoners.
At the very least, neither the Dragon Slaying Alliance nor the Shandong martial world would prevent it.
The War of Extermination was concluded.
With an ending quite different from the countless bloody incidents caused by the Heaven-Destroying Blade Hegemon, Peng Gun-ak, ninety years ago.