Chapter 81: Peak (True) Master Peng Hyeon-hwi (2)
Chapter 81: Peak (True) Master Peng Hyeon-hwi (2)
In the Patriarch’s Hall of the Hebei Peng Family, Peng Ik-jin—who had recently been feeling his energy levels being chased at a frightening pace—was playing a solitary game of Go while reading a manual for leisure.
"Brother—!!"
Peng Ik-jin looked at his younger brother charging toward him with a furious aura. He tilted his head, thinking that the man had once been quite a polite fellow.
"Is this a challenge?"
"What kind of nonsen— Forget it, Brother. You knew about the youngest's constitution, didn't you?"
"Hmm. I suppose he used an Astral Energy Skill."
"You did know...!!"
Peng Ik-cheon roared in frustration.
"You knew that, yet you didn't give me a single word of warning...? Even though you told me to teach the boy, and even said I could grant him the direct lineage's secret techniques!"
"Was it not you who failed to recognize it?"
"Guh..."
He had... no words!
Peng Ik-cheon suddenly realized that he had never once won an argument against his brother.
"Since when did you know?"
"Since he was seven."
When he slaughtered the third-rate martial artists of the Black Dragon Gang.
When he committed an act that a seven-year-old child clearly should not have been able to do.
Ten years ago, back then.
"He killed them with the Hunyuan Blade."
"Pardon? Ah, yes."
"It wasn't even a proper Hunyuan Blade. He only captured the form... as if he were clumsily mimicking a martial art he had only seen demonstrated once, without ever being taught."
"Yes."
"That boy killed them. A child who had only just learned the Hunyuan Art and the Mountain King’s Steps used the Iron-Crushing Hammer and the Hunyuan Blade to kill grown martial artists."
There is such a thing as common sense. And for someone with Peng Ik-jin’s age and experience, that common sense had hardened into something close to an absolute truth.
It was the kind of thing Peng Hyeon-hwi would have called "big data."
Thus, his judgment had been instantaneous.
When something nonsensical occurs, one must trace back how it was possible from the very beginning.
Internal energy? He had barely a year’s worth of cultivation. He might be able to unleash a Hunyuan Blade or strike with an Iron-Crushing Hammer, but he should have been exhausted after a couple of clumsy attempts.
Physical ability? He had the stamina of a seven-year-old. Even if he carried the Peng bloodline and had undergone the family’s secret Cleansing of the Marrow, he should have only been slightly sturdier than his peers.
So, it was neither internal energy nor physical strength. It was not the realm of internal or external arts.
Only one thing remained: the Upper Dantian. The realm of intent.
He had picked up the unconscious boy and immediately examined his head. Slowly, carefully, so as not to cause any damage to the child’s mind.
Thump.
Peng Ik-jin’s aged heart pounded wildly.
An intense gaze was glaring down at him from somewhere above.
When he looked up, beyond the shattered pavilions of the Black Dragon Gang, a single star shone in the vast night sky.
It glared at him as if claiming ownership of this child, asserting its rightful authority.
‘He is my grandson.’
A martial artist of the Harmony Realm can break the boundaries of the world with their intent. They can twist the harmony of heaven and earth with the mere flow of their will. Within their domain, they reign as the master of all under heaven.
Therefore, a mere petty god from an ancient, faded legend—one who could do no more than cast a gaze from the distant heavens—could not dare touch a blood relative of the Peng Family.
That was the will of the Bloodhound Asura. This old man, who was said to turn into an Asura at the sight of his kin's blood. No one, as long as he drew breath, would dare plot against the flesh and blood of the Pengs.
‘Begone!’
With his word, the gaze in the night sky vanished. It left behind a single, chilling fragment of warning.
—I shall harvest when the time is ripe.
It left that single intent behind.
That was ten years ago.
"It is the Heavenly Hero Star."
"...That is... a relief... but still..."
A deep breath escaped Peng Ik-cheon’s lips. At his level, he couldn't fathom which of the 36 Heavenly Stars or 72 Earthly Fiends had descended. He assumed his brother, who had realized it first and watched the child for ten years, would naturally know.
And what a relief it was.
Being born with the constitution of the 36 Heavenly Stars was akin to a curse.
There was the Heavenly Solitude Star, which led the world into chaos; the Heavenly Defeat Star, which belonged to Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Chu; the Heavenly Leader Star, which could summon wind and rain with a mere breath; and even the Heavenly Killer Star, which brought bloodbaths with every step taken since birth.
How many of these constitutions melted away a human's reason the moment they were accepted, molding them into demonic beings?
Among them, the Heavenly Hero Star, which was said to bring order to a chaotic world, was practically a blessing.
Wait.
Ten years...?
"Brother, if that's the case, why did you treat Hyeon-hwi so harshly?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"If you knew about his constitution ten years ago, shouldn't you have kept him in the family and raised him properly starting then...?"
"I ask again, what do you mean by that?"
Peng Ik-cheon looked up at his brother. As always, the Patriarch’s Hall was shrouded in deep shadows, but the two men present were not ones to have their vision limited by such things.
The only light source in this vast hall was a single small lantern. And Peng Ik-jin sat there, draped in shadows, looking down at him silently.
From that familiar expression, he could read his brother’s mind.
"How can you raise a tiger that hunts and grows on its own within the walls of a single village?"
"..."
It wasn't difficult to grasp the meaning.
"You intended to hand it over to him from the very beginning."
At age seven, he destroyed an Unorthodox sect. That alone was shocking, but upon investigation, his constitution was found to be uniquely peerless in the family’s history.
At age ten, he cut down the son of the Pavilion Master of the Thousand Autumns Assassination Pavilion. He ventured out alone, handled every matter himself, and reaped the rewards. He stood his ground and triumphed against one who had briefly manifested the Peak Realm through a secret medicine.
And now, currently.
On his first official foray into the world, he cut down the head of the Divine Spear Yang Family. On his second trip, he crushed the joint operation of the Jinju Eon Family and the Murong Family. On his third trip, he blocked the establishment of the Western Depot and thwarted the alliance between the Tang Family and the Eunuch Bureau.
These feats were accomplished in a mere six months. No other direct descendant had ever done the same.
This meant one thing.
This boy was the most outstanding of them all.
He was capable of achieving such feats on his own, even without the family’s support.
A tiger is not raised within walls. He was already a beast of prey living magnificently on his own, a talent destined to become the King of the Mountain.
Even if he were to break, he would be left to his own devices. But if he survived to the end, then surely—
"What about the other grandsons...?"
"The opportunity will be fair."
All four grandsons possessed talents that could be called the best among their peers. Therefore, he would provide a fair opportunity. Even if Peng Hyeon-hwi failed to survive in the end, it would merely be a pity. It would simply mean that the one who survived was the strongest successor.
Survival of the fittest—in other words, he intended to maintain the law of the strong.
"I should stay by Hyeon-hwi's side and teach him for a while once he wakes up."
"Did you say he has mastered up to the Hunyuan Thunderbolt Art?"
"Indeed. He mastered all the forms and formulas even before opening his Middle Dantian. Since he couldn't even begin to learn higher martial arts, his progress has been delayed."
"Bring him to me when he opens his eyes."
Peng Ik-jin turned his gaze away from his brother and went back to flipping through the Go manual. His brother watched him for a long time before bowing his head and quietly withdrawing.
The sound of pages turning continued late into the night. Even as he scanned the old Go manuals from the Tang and Song dynasties, Peng Ik-jin could not fully concentrate on the placements.
‘He has built ties with the Tang and Murong families, and his connections with the officials of the Six Ministries are deep. Not only that, he became the direct disciple of the Hao Clan Leader and is even handling some of the Hao Clan’s affairs.’
He thought of his youngest grandson, who used to be just a bit cute. A boy who was a little cute and a little cheerful.
‘If he succeeds, the Peng Patriarch of that generation will build the most powerful family in history!’
Knowing it was a future he would never live to see, he felt a twinge of regret, yet he was satisfied that such a fruit would come from his own bloodline.
‘If he fails,’
Then that would be that.
The martial world is treacherous. Martial talent, genius, constitution, wit—nothing is unimportant. But the most paramount of all is luck. Even one of the Fifteen Armies of the World can fall to another master of the Harmony Realm if they lack luck.
The Central Plains is a place where an absolute being cannot exist. A "Number One Under Heaven" who reigns forever is nothing more than a fantasy. In such a chaotic state of affairs, luck is the most important factor, and the ability to not miss that luck is the true talent.
Click.
A smile formed on Peng Ik-jin’s lips as he thought of his youngest grandson.
At the very least, he hadn't been an unlucky fellow so far.
With that thought...
Ah, the familiar ceil—
"Gah."
I really almost died.
No, seriously, who would've thought heart failure would hit me out of nowhere? Honestly, it’s unfair. Managing Astral Energy wasn't even that hard when I was using the "doping" method, but then it suddenly just... thud, blocked up.
‘It felt like kidney stones were forming throughout my entire body...’
Just thinking about that moment gave me the chills. My whole body was still tingling.
Still, for now, I had to ignore it and sit up. I had something important to check.
Sssss—
I immediately crossed my legs and regulated my breathing. My legs were shaking, but I forced myself to ignore it and circulated my internal energy. Thank goodness. Both my Lower and Middle Dantians were intact.
Only after scanning all the acupoints in my body and confirming there were no specific abnormalities could I finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Who am I?"
The genius who survived Qi Deviation and came back perfectly fine.
No, but why did the Qi Deviation happen in the first place? No matter how much I thought about it, the path I used to circulate through the acupoints was perfect. There was no way I’d make a mistake in that area.
"Was it you, by any chance?"
I whispered to the traitor lodged in my heart. The Middle Dantian said nothing, merely pulsing along with my heartbeat without a reaction. I gave my chest a little thump for no reason, then stopped when I remembered that if it hurt, it was my own body that suffered.
"Are you awake?"
"Oh, Hall Master."
My great-uncle, Peng Ik-cheon, opened the door and walked in. He must have been waiting outside, acting as my protector until I finished my meditation.
I immediately bowed my head deeply.
"It must have been you who looked after me since I collapsed, Hall Master. This unworthy grandson has incurred a great debt."
"Listen to you."
My great-uncle chuckled and perched on the table across from my bed.
"If you've come to your senses, get ready. Wash your face, too."
"Where am I going?"
I’m a patient right now. A martial-emergency patient who just overcame Qi Deviation. Shouldn't we be monitoring the prognosis?
"The Patriarch has summoned you."
"Uh... how did he know I was awake...?"
"Would it be better if I said he’s been waiting since two days ago?"
"This grandson will be ready as fast as a Thunderbolt."
Ugh.
I tried to break through to the realm of the Hunyuan Thunderbolt Art, suffered Qi Deviation, fainted, and was saved by my great-uncle’s help? Isn't this a guaranteed point deduction?
‘But there was no other way.’
It was a desperate measure to get a feel for Astral Energy. I wasn't currently in a state where I had officially mastered the Hunyuan Thunderbolt Art. The core essence of that art is Astral Energy, and unless I took the Heavenly Silkworm Purple Blood Tear, I didn't have the ability to manifest it.
In the first place, I didn't even have a grasp of what Astral Energy was. This was truly strange.
They said that in the process of mastering the family's direct lineage martial arts, one naturally attains the unification of the Hunyuan and Thunderbolt arts and gains the starting point for Astral Energy. In other words, according to the tech tree, the preparation to open the Middle Dantian should have been finished the moment I broke through both the Hunyuan and Thunderbolt arts.
‘But I had to skip that process with the Heavenly Silkworm Purple Blood Tear.’
I had mastered all the forms, formulas, intent, and flow of the Hunyuan Thunderbolt Art. I had learned it deeply enough to unleash the secret techniques the moment my Middle Dantian opened. I could even draw the Thunderbolt Blade without much difficulty now.
And yet, I was repeatedly failing to achieve the two secret techniques: the Hunyuan Iron-Crushing Hammer and the Great Power Flash-Lightning Blade. I couldn't even get a feel for opening the Middle Dantian.
In that situation, since a Middle Dantian had suddenly appeared, I had no choice but to try. I thought that as long as I had a Middle Dantian, I would definitely succeed. I’ve completely internalized the essence, so why won't the skill trigger?
This is a scam. Give me a Status Window too.
After grumbling for a while, I finished getting ready and headed to the Patriarch’s Hall.
"You are on the verge of the Peak Realm."
"Oh."
My grandfather, whom I felt like I hadn't seen in months, spoke to me.
"Just like most first-rate martial artists."
"Ah."
He’s really playing with my heart.
"You have already firmly established the sensory map to manifest Astral Energy. Since a Middle Dantian has even formed within you, it won't be long."
"Oh."
"Therefore, I shall give you a choice."
Surprisingly, my grandfather was wearing a subtle smile.
"Will you return and begin training by the book, placing your stones one by one to raise your realm?"
"Is the direction of the training I've been doing so far correct?"
"It is the standard method. If one lacks talent, no amount of effort will allow them to reach it, but if one has sufficient skill, they can eventually look toward the Peak Realm with that level of training."
"Then, what is the other choice?"
"I will guide you personally."
At those words, my hand paused for a moment. I stared at my grandfather, who sat across from the Go board, for a long time. Then, struggling to hide my trembling hand, I placed my stone on the board.
Stay calm. Nothing is certain yet. No, wait, how can I stay calm? The last time my grandfather taught a direct descendant was during my father’s generation. And since I’m stuck at the wall of the Peak Realm, he’s calling me out to teach me personally?
I must have bombarded my grandfather’s heart with too much "filial piety." Then again, how could he hate a filial grandson like me?
"I will do th—"
"You should think carefully before you answer. I do not intend to invest a long time in you."
"Pardon...?"
I can reach the Peak Realm that quickly? Is he that confident in his teaching methods?
"My teaching will not be pleasant, enjoyable, comfortable, or easy for you."
"Who would seek the comfort of their own body when being taught martial arts by the Number One of the Unorthodox Faction?"
"It will be very fast, and sufficiently painful."
"I happen to have a bit of confidence in that area."
Surely it can't hurt more than Qi Deviation. When I laughed confidently, my grandfather smiled back as if it were a satisfying answer.
"Good. If you sought an ordinary path, you wouldn't be a man of the Peng Family. Stand up."
"Huh? Right here? Ah, yes."
He’s not teaching me something at the training grounds, nor is he helping me with a True Qi induction... What kind of technique allows one to reach the Peak Realm so easily?
I slowly stood up, unable to easily calm my pounding heart. I wondered what I could learn while standing in front of a Go board.
Thump.
"...?"
the moment I stood up, I heard the sound of something brushing past. A brushing sound? No, that wasn't it. The sound was slower than the action. By the time I perceived the sound, my grandfather’s figure was already right in front of my nose...!!
"Cough... hugh...!"
My grandfather’s index finger was pressed against my chest. Following the force from his fingertip, my martial robes distorted, and a horrific rupturing sound surged from beneath my skin.
Crack, crunch. A sound that was by no means pleasant.
By the time I recognized that sound, I was already kneeling on the floor, struggling to breathe through lungs that had shriveled from the impact—
"Once every day, endure a strike until your Middle Dantian opens on its own."
"Cough...! Hack...!"
It seemed it wasn't my grandfather’s heart that had been bombarded, but mine.
I was about to collapse, just as my instincts told me to.
Thud.
I braced myself on one knee and looked up, barely managing to control my hacking breath. My grandfather’s brow was furrowed. As if he were holding back a laugh, a deep, proud smile etched into his face.
I opened my mouth toward him.
"How... how long, cough! How long do you expect it to take?"
"Half a year at the earliest."
"Then, hack! Then..."
I quickly checked my internal injuries. Surprisingly, my Middle Dantian had been precisely suppressed once, but there were no traces of internal injury otherwise. It was a strike bordering on the divine. With that much impact force, it wouldn't have been strange if my muscles had burst and my ribs, heart, and lungs had all been torn apart.
In fact, I was certain that if my grandfather had harbored killing intent, I would have been reduced to dust by that single strike. However, he had diverted all that force out of my body, precisely striking only the intended spot. I couldn't even imagine how he did it.
"Two months."
I spoke, barely managing to control my panting. My lungs, which had shriveled from shock and tension, were rapidly recovering. Since there were no internal injuries, it was doable as long as I could endure the pain.
"Let's do it within two months, Grandfather."
"Hah."
For a moment, my grandfather looked like he was the one whose heart had been bombarded.
"You never fail to disappoint. That's my boy."
In November, I have to rendezvous with Murong Cheong in Tianjin. If I’m late and we miss each other, Murong Cheong might die. I’m not joking. A daughter of the Murong Family setting foot in Tianjin carried that much weight.
So before then—at the very least, by early November—I had to arrive in Tianjin first.
A period of a little less than two months. Within that time, I had to get a perfect score on the pop quiz thrown by the Number One of the Unorthodox Faction.
And since I fell into this medieval China, I have never once.
Truly, not even once.
Failed a test.