Chapter 25: Blood Debt (2)
Chapter 25: Blood Debt (2)
Wiji Cheon-yeong let out a boisterous shout and looked down calmly at Peng Hyeon-hwi as he charged forward.
At her level, a fight of this caliber was too low-grade to even be called a life-and-death duel. It didn't even require her close attention.
Clang!
Screeeech!
Peng Hyeon-hwi’s martial arts were the typical Hunyuan Art of the Hebei Peng Family.
As it was the introductory martial art of the Peng family and the one every Peng warrior was most proficient in, it consisted mainly of simple offensives that any martial artist familiar with the Hebei Peng Family could recognize at a glance.
The martial principles dormant within it were by no means complex. In fact, one could even call them excessively monotonous.
The core of the Hunyuan Art was ultimately this: See, block, and strike the opening.
While it did teach a few special ways to circulate energy during that process, that was it. The level of a Peng warrior who had only mastered the Hunyuan Art rarely deviated from the range between third-rate and second-rate.
However, this was different.
Clang! Crack!
Even when operating under the same principles, things like the 'way of seeing,' the 'method of use,' 'more efficient movement,' and 'instantaneous situational awareness' varied.
As long as any martial art was performed with human hands and feet, a person’s unique 'texture' existed.
Should it be called a habit? No, it should rather be called talent.
Even if they were taught the same martial art, there were those who followed it better, those who understood it more deeply—and those like him.
Those who 'applied' it more intelligently.
And people evaluated such individuals as possessing martial talent.
Those whose 'habits' aligned sharply with the principles contained within the martial art. Those who could operate in a manner exactly consistent with the design principles of the technique.
Like a key that perfectly fits a lock. There were those for whom the martial art itself simply fit their body.
As if they were born to perform that martial art.
No... rather, as if they were born to fight.
Boom!!
"Keugh... huff!!"
The brat from the Assassination Pavilion took a fist to the jaw.
From the moment the Iron-Crushing Hammer of the Hunyuan Art, delivered by the gauntleted left hand, landed accurately, it was a blow capable of easily bursting a man's head.
Though he had diverted as much of the force as possible, no matter how outstanding his footwork was, he couldn't completely block the damage.
The brat stumbled back, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Blood surged and flowed from his gasping mouth.
He must have taken a shock great enough to make his head spin. Even his pupils looked slightly unfocused.
In front of him, Peng Hyeon-hwi actually stepped back and rested his blade on his shoulder. He stood with a slouching, arrogant posture like a third-rate thug.
"I spared you once."
"......Huff...... huff......"
"Take it. That elixir you have."
At that provocation, the brat from the Assassination Pavilion gritted his teeth and regained his senses. He hurriedly reached into his robe, then bit his lip hard and glared at Peng Hyeon-hwi.
His pride must have been wounded. A kid of his level would have grown up hearing he was quite the genius even within the Assassination Pavilion. Yet here he was, being miserably overwhelmed by someone younger than himself.
Peng Hyeon-hwi’s voice rang out toward that battered face. He spat the words out, filled with poignant rage.
"There were five of our servants you cut down."
"...Tui. So what? You want an apology?"
"No. I spared you once, so it means I’m going to kill you four more times now."
Click.
After firmly tightening the gauntlet on his left hand, Peng Hyeon-hwi ran forward again. The brat from the Assassination Pavilion let out a sharp hiss and pulled something from his sleeve.
A bright red pill, no larger than a thumbnail. Wiji Cheon-yeong’s eyes narrowed.
Was it the kind of drug that made blood and energy go berserk to trigger latent potential? Most such drugs carried fatal side effects.
If that boy had assassinated the Peng family warriors and had taken that drug then... by now, he should normally be unable to move due to the side effects.
'An elixir that draws out latent potential without side effects...? Can such a thing even exist?'
Wiji Cheon-yeong watched the brat, ready to leap into the fray at any moment.
The boy’s eyes glowed red. A single streak of viscous blood-tear trickled down from eyes turned crimson by bursting capillaries. Dark red veins surged across his pale skin. Large bruises, dark enough to look purple, mottled his skin. Sssssss, hah.
Hot steam drifted from the boy’s mouth—and the atmosphere around him trembled faintly.
Thump, thump, thump. Dust kicked up with every step in a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. Even in the absence of wind, his hair repeatedly rose and fell as if swaying in a current.
'Internal energy is leaking out. He’s spilling force he can’t control. That is...'
It was a state commonly seen in Peak Realm masters who had just opened their Middle Dantian.
In this single moment, that brat had become a Peak Realm master.
A kid barely in his teens who, until just a moment ago, was barely scraping the level of second-rate...!
"The Five Poisons Sect’s Heavenly Silkworm Purple Blood Tear...!"
The moment Wiji Cheon-yeong sprang to her feet, the boy’s blurred figure, which had vanished, reappeared directly behind Peng Hyeon-hwi’s back.
Slash...!
The short sword lunged down, aiming for the boy’s nape.
*
'Whoa!'
Seeing Seong Won-ho’s state—suddenly dripping blood-tears from his eyes and his skin turning mottled—made my stomach feel a bit uneasy.
Is he a zombie? Did he get the genre wrong or something?
But even before the bastard appeared behind my back, the back of my blade was already in position.
Clang!!
It was a strike so powerful it almost knocked the wind out of me. It was certainly incomparably faster and more intense than before.
It was difficult to track his movements or block his attacks. A single clash was enough to realize it.
If I hadn't known this was coming, I would have definitely died. And if we exchanged more than ten moves from here on out, I’d definitely be the one to break—whether it was my bones, my sword, or whatever.
Clang! Screech! Clang!!
But I blocked it. While it was impossible to keep up with his position as he darted nimbly in all directions, I was definitely intercepting every blade aimed at my body.
"How...!?"
"Skillfully, you brat. Skillfully."
My friend Won-ho was glaring at me with a look of shock, but there wasn't any grand trick to it.
If you were going to take drugs and come at me, you should have done it from the start. It’s all well and good that your internal energy exploded, but the martial arts you’re using are the same as before.
Your habits, your timing. You’ve just gotten a bit faster and a bit stronger, that’s all.
Clang!!
"Can you see it...? How on earth are you seeing it!!"
"You should have done better. Come at me again."
"You baaaaastard!! I’ll kill you!! I’ll cut off your head and throw it in front of your pathetic family’s plaque!!"
"'I'll k-k-kill yooou!' Ugh, kid. How unsightly."
With a snapping sound, the amount of blood flowing from his eyes increased. High blood pressure at that age. His life was going to be miserable anyway, so it might be better to end it here.
I didn't even pay attention to his figure vanishing before my eyes; I simply twisted my shoulder and thrust my left arm out.
Toward the empty air.
Clang!!
A long crack split across my gauntlet as his short sword was repelled. The back of my hand hurt like hell, but I succeeded in blocking the sudden strike.
Three times from the left, duck and turn back once, move out of sight and circle right for a long high-angle strike.
It seemed the Assassination Pavilion taught this sequence as a specific form or technique. Since the number of variations wasn't that large, I had already memorized several derivatives and applications during our first bout.
So, even if he got stronger and faster, I already knew which direction he was coming from.
—His Middle Dantian was open, and the output and reaction of his internal energy were equal to that of a Peak Realm master... but the level of his martial arts was not. He was quite powerful, but he performed swordsmanship that was strictly second-rate.
This evaluation was accurate. It was because I believed this that I had pushed him to take the drug, and it was also why I had familiarized myself with his techniques by creating as many different situations as possible before he took the elixir.
If you know the means your opponent possesses in advance, securing a way to counter them isn't difficult.
This is how a possessor’s combat style should be.
Therefore.
Crunch!
"Keugh!!"
Now that I was gradually getting used to his speed, it was possible to thrust my fist in advance toward the spot where his next step—or 'footwork' in the vocabulary of this world—would land.
"Two times."
"Kh-huff... huff...! What...?"
"I spared you twice. You know you would’ve died just now if I’d used my sword, right?"
I walked toward Won-ho, who was dripping blood-tears and clutching his struck stomach while gasping.
Our friend here is a bit of a crybaby. In the Peng family, you get hit this much just during sparring. Is it because he hasn't grown up getting beaten?
"Keep going. I’m curious."
I gripped my gauntlet a bit tighter. The broken iron plate dug into the back of my hand, and blood trickled out. But strangely, this level of pain made my head feel clear.
"No one ever taught me what happens when the Middle Dantian opens."
Everyone always spouted boring, pedantic stories about how a Peak Realm master’s martial arts are this or their enlightenment is that. I was just so curious about the actual principle of how internal energy could gush from the heart instead of the Lower Dantian.
I intended to use this opportunity to find out from this fake Peak Realm master, who was at just the right level to hit and be hit by.
The physical changes when the Middle Dantian opens. The operation of internal energy. The physical factors that change even when using the same martial arts. Things like that.
One by one, I wanted to memorize the things you can't know without dissecting a person or experiencing them firsthand.
On top of that, I wanted to show my debut stage to the Hao Clan Leader... or at least a high-ranking expert of the Hao Clan, who must be looking down at me right now.
I wanted to look like someone worth investing in with everything they had. That was the extra spoonful of ulterior motive.
*
The second son of the Assassination Pavilion’s Master.
The boy who had been put in charge of the Beijing branch at such a young age due to his poisonous schemes and decisiveness.
Seong Won-ho, who had just turned thirteen, could not accept his reality.
'This is impossible...! It’s impossible!!'
Every attack was blocked. And from the moment he took a step, every unpredictable attack from every direction was... intercepted as if his opponent already knew.
A fist. A fist that was half-shattered and dripping with blood was always right in front of his head.
Boom!!
"Kehuuuuugh!!"
"Won-ho. I told you to be careful. Now there’s only one left. I’ve spared you four times."
Heat rushed to his head. Blood circulated even faster due to rage and bewilderment, and because of that, the streaming blood-tears surged even more violently. Now, his vision was becoming blurry.
Just how? Even the first-rate warriors of the Peng family hadn't been able to block his martial arts even once after he took the elixir. Killing five of them had taken less than fifteen minutes.
If one were to ask Peng Hyeon-hwi about this... well, he would have answered that it was an unfair situation for them. It would be more strange if they could have blocked a brat who hid his energy with the Assassination Pavilion’s unique stealth techniques to look like an ordinary boy, only to suddenly move with the speed of a Peak Realm master.
However, if one already expected the opponent...
If one had confirmed every step of the process as the opponent’s martial arts unfolded...
If one already knew the fact that the elixir the opponent took was a secret medicine that 'turned one into a Peak Realm master for a moment'...
And if one was a possessor who knew all that, understood the opponent’s martial arts just by witnessing them once, and never doubted his own genius...
Then Peng Hyeon-hwi would have said that this situation was only natural.
Though that wouldn't have been any comfort to Seong Won-ho.
"If only...! If only it wasn't for you...! I... I...!!"
"Bullshit."
Immediately after the latent power of the elixir was exhausted, the boy, unable to withstand the blood he had lost and the shock accumulated in his body, collapsed onto the ground.
In front of him, a boy who was no less battered walked over, holding a blade. Yet he was still upright. Without a hint of haste. Taking one steady step at a time.
"I killed you five times, Won-ho. In place of the five servants who died caught up in your nonsense."
The blade cast a long shadow. The blade’s edge, chipped and cracked by powerful internal energy, came to rest over Seong Won-ho’s nape.
In the deep night, amidst the darkness of the empty street, only the blade and the eyes of the boy holding it shone in the moonlight.
"Spare... spare me."
"Those are pretty pathetic last words. Don't you think so too?"
"If you kill me, me...!"
"Shh. A gentleman should guard his tongue. If you’ve stepped into the martial world with a blade, you’re supposed to be a warrior. To beg for your life after what you’ve done."
The blade flashed. In that interval, a small resistance—the kind of resistance the flesh of a thirteen-year-old brat would give—was felt by the hand holding the sword, then it lightly vanished.
Thud. The sound of something heavy falling was heard.
Ssssh. In the meantime, blood sprayed a few times, soaking the blade, before falling silent.
"I have collected the blood debt."
After saying the words that any warrior of the Hebei Peng Family should say upon completing a revenge for their kin, the boy tied the severed head to the tip of his sword and left the scene.
*
Over 200 years ago, the founding ancestor of the Hebei Peng Family, Peng Dan-san, set fire to the Shaolin Temple’s Library simply because he 'wanted to.'
Over 150 years ago, the fourth-generation ancestor of the Hebei Peng Family, Peng Bu-jeon, unified all the Black Path sects of Northern China simply because he 'wanted to possess them.'
And 90 years ago, the third-generation ancestor of the Hebei Peng Family, Peng Gun-ak, started the Righteous-Demonic War simply because he 'wanted revenge.'
Peng Hyeon-hwi burst into laughter as he thought of those things. Even as he coughed because his internal injuries were worsening from the reckless fight, his laughter continued.
Because he felt that anyone who messed with the 'little' Hebei Peng Family was going to be screwed.
At that time, Wiji Cheon-yeong was standing on the roof of a pavilion, looking at an old man.
"Is this the will of the Hao Clan, Ghost Warrior?"
"My will is the will of the Hao Clan. Master of the Assassination Pavilion. You appeared too late, and even then, it was quite convenient."
"...I will personally pay the price to the Peng Family Head for what my foolish son has done. But... but to slaughter my son right before my eyes...!"
"I don't care and it's none of my business how you Dragon Slaying Alliance people handle your affairs."
Wiji Cheon-yeong looked straight into the old man's face and slowly rolled up her sleeves.
With a clink, her ornate gold-crafted accessories began to ring on their own. The old man quickly covered his ears and leaped backward.
Seeing that, Wiji Cheon-yeong smiled faintly.
"But from now on, that youngest young master of the Peng family is under the protection of the Black Forest July Society. If you even think of laying a finger on that child... Master of the Assassination Pavilion, I swear, I will personally pluck off the head of that moronic eldest son of yours and deliver it to you."
"I will not forget this."
"You shouldn't. Naturally. It would be troublesome if someone like you dared to ignore the words of one of the Fifteen Lords."
The old man ground his teeth and hid himself in the shadows. Soon, after the old man's presence vanished like smoke, Wiji Cheon-yeong’s arms went back into her sleeves.
She then looked down at Peng Hyeon-hwi’s back as he walked down the street for a long time, licking her lips.
"There's no need for him to stay under the shadow of the Peng family. The position of the next Hao Clan Leader is worth no less than the name of the Peng Family Head."
After saying words that seemed intended to persuade someone unknown, Wiji Cheon-yeong quickly ran across the rooftops toward the Plum Fragrance Pavilion.
She felt that, in any case, she had to arrive before that kid for it to be a good look.