The Tiger of Hebei (4)
Paegyeon, the Pae-jon. Not only was he the undisputed greatest blade master of the Hebei Peng Clan, but he held that same position without question among the current generation of the Murim world. If one were to describe his life in a single phrase, it would be an endless ascent.
Several decades ago, when he was born, the Hebei Peng Clan was in its darkest period. For an entire generation, they had produced no martial artist who had reached the Transcendent Realm. They possessed neither the strategic brilliance of the Zhuge Clan nor the bizarre ingenuity of the Sichuan Tang Clan, so the absence of an absolute expert cut even deeper.
The tiger that had once guarded Hebei had grown dull in both fang and claw, and a pack of insignificant hyenas calling themselves the Green Forest had begun swarming into the region. It was in the midst of that very crisis that Paegyeon opened his eyes to the world, and from the moment of his birth, he lived under the heavy expectation that he would be the one to overcome it all.
Fortunately, he had been blessed with immense talent for martial arts—especially for blade techniques. As a son of the Hebei Peng Clan, he mastered the Five Tiger Severing Gate Blade to its peak and set out into the world to walk the path of chivalry. Centered around the Peng Clan, he swung his blade without restraint. Every time his crimson blade qi revealed itself across the land, the blood of his enemies dyed the skies, and the fangs and claws of the Hebei Tiger were sharpened once more.
It took him forty years and then some before the Hebei Tiger finally drove out every last hyena that had dared set foot in his territory. And on that day, he became the pinnacle of all pae—the Supreme Overlord.
Paegyeon earned the title of Pae-jon and claimed one of the Ten Venerables. He caused the name of the Hebei Peng Clan to soar once again to the highest heavens. He had accomplished a feat that would be etched forever into the history of the Peng Clan.
Now, he held everything in the palm of his hand.
Yet paradoxically, at the very same moment, everything in the world had become utterly meaningless to Pae-jon.
He had devoted his entire life to the study of martial arts. He had devoted his entire life to the revival of the Peng Clan. And in the end, he had achieved both.
More than anything, these were the things he had longed for, the things he had needed to accomplish. But ironically and tragically, they had come far too early for Pae-jon.
A blade whose edge had already been worn away could cut nothing. A fire whose embers had already died could burn nothing. An arrow that had lost its target could strike nothing.
He could no longer find any purpose in life. And so Pae-jon lost interest in everything under the heavens. Eating, sleeping, training—they were nothing more than repetitive habits to him, neither more nor less. The only person who had allowed him to share love and maintain a normal human relationship—his wife—had passed away with the passage of time, leaving him isolated in the widest world and the narrowest one at the same time.
In the midst of those endlessly hollow days, he suddenly found a spark of interest. It was a truly tiny, almost insignificant speck of curiosity.
From some point onward, his grandson Peng Dowui had begun visiting him nearly every day. Someone had mentioned that the boy was about to have a spar. Because Pae-jon occasionally crossed blades with the child, he remembered that Dowui was still far too inexperienced to face an opponent in true combat. The opponent was someone called the Extreme Sword Dragon.
From what he had heard, the warrior was the youngest in history to earn such fame, and at the same time, he was recognized as an unparalleled genius below the age of twenty. No one in their right mind would dare commit such a horrific act against a direct descendant of the Peng Clan, but since Peng Dowui could not be allowed to die or suffer serious injury during the spar, Pae-jon rose to his feet for the first time in a long while.
“...Interesting.”
There, in that place, was the sky.
He had once thought himself close to the heavens, but there existed a true prodigy worthy of setting foot upon it. Using nothing but pure technique rather than overwhelming power, the boy completely dominated Peng Dowui while maintaining absolute control. He was even taking care not to let the child suffer any major injuries. It was as if a battle-hardened master of the Jianghu was graciously playing along with a young disciple.
Ten years old? The age was far too young to be called “battle-hardened.” It was a talent Paegyeon had never witnessed in his entire life.
At that moment, Pae-jon thought to himself: I want to meet him. I’m a little curious what kind of fellow he is.
In that instant, the worn blade sharpened its edge once more. In that instant, the dying embers met fuel and blazed again. In that instant, the arrow that had lost its target found its direction anew.
“Sit wherever you like. It’s all the same.”
Pae-jon gestured to me like that before stepping into the room and sitting down directly in front of the Peng Clan Invincible calligraphy hanging on the wall. Just as he said, everything really did look the same. There were no chairs, no bedding—nothing but bare floor. Since I had come to speak with him, I sat down facing him.
His aura still pressed down on me with considerable weight, but even if I kept my sword at my waist, he could kill someone of my level in an instant if he felt any hostility. So I simply relaxed and let it hang loosely.
“Why did you release your sword?”
“While I may be considered one of the strongest among my peers, right now I am nothing more than an ant at your feet in your eyes, Pae-jon.”
The moment he heard those words, Pae-jon snorted, then burst into loud laughter.
“‘Right now,’ you say! Yes, with that much talent, you’ve earned the right to speak such bold words.”
“You’re not even eleven yet, and yet you possess such martial prowess. It’s astonishing. So I found myself wondering what I was doing at your age.”
Having said that, he suddenly turned his head toward one of the walls. I followed his gaze. On that wall hung two blades. He reached out with his hand toward the one placed higher up and pulled it to him using empty palm absorption. A silver blade that gleamed with light. It was a famous blade that had clearly been maintained with great care for a long time. On its body were engraved the characters Striking the Sea.
“This fellow is called Gyeokhae. It was something one of the clan’s guests brought with him long ago. When I was young, it was the blade I cherished and used the most.”
He gently stroked the blade of Gyeokhae once with his hand before continuing.
“These days I use a different, sharper and harder blade, but back when my blood was boiling with vigor, I swept through the mountains of this entire region holding only Gyeokhae. Did you know? When I had cleared out exactly one hundred mountain strongholds, I was precisely twenty years old.”
He spoke as if reminiscing about the past, then gave a faint, self-mocking laugh. Staring straight at me, he continued with even deeper self-ridicule.
“I only earned the title of Blade Dragon when I was already well into my later years—at sixteen. When I was your age, I hadn’t even reached the Peak Realm yet.”
He compared his own past deeds with mine, then spoke to me again.
“Ever since I brought both my martial studies and the clan to their utmost limits, it has been a very long time since I lost interest in all the affairs of the world. But the Jianghu truly is vast. There were still things left in this world that could surprise me.”
He slowly raised his head. Holding Gyeokhae in one hand, he pushed off the floor with the other and stood up. His massive frame filled the entire room.
“Earlier, I gave Dowui a small lesson. It seems he gained something from it, but let’s pretend he didn’t. At the same time, as a member of the Peng Clan, I will say thank you.”
His tone was dry and emotionless, as if the words came from nowhere near his heart. But since he had not finished speaking, I listened carefully until the end.
“In this world, there is a saying about equivalent exchange. Therefore, I too shall give you a lesson.”
Pae-jon had been strong enough. But at the same time, he had been greatly lacking. Although he had reached the Transcendent Realm, he had only been near the bottom of that level, and the fame of a clan that had once suffered a great decline did not return so easily. The Hebei Tiger had reclaimed his territory, but he had not yet reclaimed the dignity of the Mountain Lord.
Carrying the sense of duty to restore the prestige of the Hebei Peng Clan throughout the world, he had attempted one grand experiment. The two supreme clan techniques passed down in the Peng Clan. The Five Tiger Severing Gate Blade for men, and the Origin Chaos Divine Blade for women. Each possessed its own strengths and weaknesses—two peerless blade arts. Paegyeon had woven them together into a single martial study.
Heaven and Earth Linked Tiger Soul Severing Blade.
A heavy blade technique that embodied the ultimate form of a colossal tiger connecting the heavens and the earth. Though unstable as a martial art, and therefore something only its creator Pae-jon could master, it was nevertheless closer to the pinnacle than any other blade technique he knew.
With the Heaven and Earth Linked Tiger Soul Severing Blade in hand, Pae-jon had strode proudly toward the world and traveled across its vast expanse. That was how he had truly become one of the Ten Venerables.
“Pick up your sword again, young boy.”
Even a ruined noble family lasts three generations. Moreover, the person before me was no ordinary noble. He was the greatest Mountain Lord of the Murim, the one who had ruled an entire era before choosing to rest. Such a Pae-jon gripped Gyeokhae firmly. A deep violet blade qi flickered once at the tip of the blade.
At the same time, Pae-jon slowly swung his blade. Yet despite the light motion, a ferocious blade qi—far beyond anything Peng Dowui could produce—surged toward me with a speed that left no room to block.
“Dare to read my blade technique even once.”