Chapter 748

When was the first time he felt a wall?

He didn’t remember.

Not because it had never happened, but because it had happened too many times.

That was his life.

A life of endlessly crashing into walls, again and again.

Such was the path of a martial artist, they said.

But for Peng Zhou, there was nothing more humiliating.

Why were there so many walls standing in his way?

He could have accepted it if they had been older, more experienced opponents.

But the ones blocking his path were all his peers.

The first wall he faced was Sword Dragon.

The grandson of Namgung Jeolcheon, the Patriarch of the Namgung Clan, and the most likely successor to the clan.

Their similar ages led to constant comparisons between Peng Zhou and Sword Dragon.

And ever since their first encounter, Peng Zhou had never managed to best him.

Then there were the others—White Dragon, Little Dragon, Poison Dragon, Sword Phoenix, White Phoenix.

Peng Zhou entered their ranks under the title of Black Dragon.

But even after making it in, his standing hadn’t changed.

He remained at the bottom.

Despite the overwhelming support and resources provided by his family, he barely managed to hold his place.

That was the extent of Peng Zhou’s talent.

Mediocre.

Too lacking to be called a genius.

Yet too skilled to be dismissed as untalented.

He occupied that frustrating middle ground.

For most people, it might have been enough.

But Peng Zhou was not like most people.

‘I’m the son of the Blade King.’

Peng Zhou’s father, the Blade King, was the Patriarch of the Peng Clan.

A man renowned for his solid character and exceptional martial prowess.

As the head of one of the Four Great Clans, his influence was unmatched.

But Peng Zhou—the Blade King’s son—was constantly labeled as inferior.

“A tiger father, but a dog for a son.”

It was a saying reserved for unworthy heirs who failed to live up to their fathers.

Peng Zhou embodied that insult.

And to him, it was a curse.

Mediocre talent.

Inferior blood.

A son who failed to inherit his father’s greatness.

While his peers soared higher every day, he lagged behind.

That growing gap strangled him.

It became the root of his inferiority complex.

And so, as time passed and his resentment festered,

An incident occurred.

The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering.

It was the same martial tournament held every year.

But this time, there was something new.

The announcement that a Divine Dragon would be chosen.

In the martial world, “Divine Dragon” referred to the greatest prodigy of the late-stage generation.

It symbolized the future leader of the martial world.

And so, far more attention was drawn to the event than usual.

Everyone wondered—

Who would become the Divine Dragon?

Would it be Sword Dragon of the Namgung Clan?

Or White Dragon of the Moyong Clan?

Maybe Little Dragon? Or Poison Dragon from the Tang Clan?

The debates continued endlessly.

But one thing was clear.

The Divine Dragon would come from one of the Dragons or Phoenixes.

And no one even mentioned Black Dragon.

It was a testament to the power and status of the current Dragons and Phoenixes.

And to the lowly position of Black Dragon.

When Peng Zhou first heard those predictions, he had raged.

But a far greater humiliation followed.

The birth of the Divine Dragon.

When the tournament ended, the Divine Dragon was finally chosen.

And it wasn’t one of the Dragons or Phoenixes.

It was someone from the Gu Clan of Shanxi.

A family barely clinging to the edge of the noble ranks.

A clan so obscure it had no notable figures.

And yet—

The Divine Dragon came from there.

Gu Cheolwoon of the Gu Clan.

The man who appeared for the first time at the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering defeated them all.

And claimed the title of Divine Dragon.

That revelation—

—“This is bullshit—!”

Was what caused Peng Zhou’s barely contained fury to explode.

—“How the hell does someone like you become the Divine Dragon?!”

It was the night after the tournament ended, when everyone was preparing to leave.

—“This can’t be happening… Why you?! Why someone like you…!!”

Drunk out of his mind, Peng Zhou confronted Gu Cheolwoon.

Despite his martial arts abilities, he had drowned himself in alcohol until he was completely wasted.

Because he couldn’t endure it otherwise.

Gu Cheolwoon simply stared at him.

—“I see.”

Then, as if he had just remembered something, he added,

—“You’re that guy.”

—“What…?”

—“It took me a moment to recall.”

Peng Zhou staggered, laughing bitterly.

Even after what had happened at the inn,

Gu Cheolwoon had forgotten him.

—“Ha… haha…?”

Peng Zhou’s lips twisted.

Why him?

Why did it have to be him?

Why was someone like him allowed to rise so high?

Not a member of the Four Great Clans.

Not from the Nine Great Sects.

Just some nobody who suddenly appeared and took everything.

He wanted to kill him.

If he couldn’t do it here, he’d do it after returning to his clan.

No matter what, he had to kill him.

—“The Divine Dragon…?”

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Gu Cheolwoon soared to heights Peng Zhou couldn’t reach.

What he had spent his entire life yearning for,

That bastard took in just a few days.

—“This is impossible.”

He knew Gu Cheolwoon was strong.

Strong enough to humiliate him at the inn.

But still—Peng Zhou refused to accept it.

The bastard who mocked and trampled on him couldn’t be the Divine Dragon.

—“I get it now. So that’s how it is.”

And so he crossed a line.

—“The Gu Clan, huh? What trick did you pull?”

—“Hmm?”

Gu Cheolwoon tilted his head.

—“There’s no way you got here honestly. You must’ve done something behind the scenes. Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.”

Drunk and barely able to see straight, Peng Zhou glared at Gu Cheolwoon’s crimson eyes.

—“What kind of witchcraft did you use? How does a pathetic clan like yours produce someone like you?”

It had to be trickery.

Otherwise, it was impossible.

—“You’re the son of a clan head, right? What did your father do? Or was it you? Tell me. What did you—”

Suddenly.

Peng Zhou’s rambling stopped.

—“Urk.”

A single sound.

And his body tilted.

Whoosh—! Thud.

His vision dropped as one knee hit the ground.

What’s happening?

Before he could process it—

Smack—!

His head snapped to the side.

What the hell?

Pain erupted across his face.

Only then did he realize.

He’d been slapped.

—“You bastard—!!”

Peng Zhou roared and lunged.

Smack—!

His head whipped to the other side.

—“Gah…!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The sound echoed again and again as his head snapped back and forth.

—“Khugh…”

Blood dripped down his chin.

Blood dripped from Peng Zhou’s nose and mouth, pooling on the ground.

His cheeks burned like fire, but he swallowed the blood and forced his head up.

—“Are you done barking?”

Above him stood Gu Cheolwoon, his crimson eyes glaring down.

The same eyes as back then at the inn—only now, under the night’s shadow, they seemed even more vivid.

Drip.

Blood ran from his lips, staining his chest as it trickled down his neck.

Peng Zhou felt the drunken haze lift completely from his mind in that moment.

—“You…!”

But his rage didn’t fade.

The humiliation was unbearable.

Peng Zhou tried to stand, unable to accept what had happened to him.

Crack—!

—“Ghhk!?”

But Gu Cheolwoon’s massive hand crushed that attempt immediately.

Screech—!

—“Ghhhh…!”

Peng Zhou’s large frame was hoisted into the air like a ragdoll.

He thrashed, but just like before in the inn, it was useless.

And then—

—“You should consider yourself lucky.”

Gu Cheolwoon’s voice cut through the night.

—“I was told not to kill anyone while in Hanan. That’s why you’re still alive. It’s your good fortune.”

Peng Zhou’s body shuddered.

The killing intent laced in each word poured into his mouth, nose, and eyes, choking him.

—“But for me, it’s unfortunate. If not for that, I wouldn’t have to listen to this pathetic barking in the middle of the night.”

—“L-let go of me… I—I’m Peng Zhou of the Peng Clan—!”

Peng Zhou stammered, desperately trying to get the words out.

—“Like I said before, I don’t care.”

Gu Cheolwoon wasn’t interested.

Clench.

—“Ghhk…!”

Peng Zhou’s mouth was forced open.

A chilling thought flashed through his mind.

Was this—?

—“One molar feels lonely without its pair. I’ll even it out.”

No.

Crunch—!

—“Aaaaagh!!”

His remaining molar was torn out.

Sizzle—!!!

And just like before, the wound was seared shut, burning pain into his skull.

Peng Zhou collapsed onto the ground, released from Gu Cheolwoon’s grip.

But before he could even writhe in pain—

Thud—!

—“Aaaaaah!!”

Gu Cheolwoon stomped on his broken leg, pressing down until Peng Zhou screamed.

—“Don’t move. If I put any more pressure, you’ll never walk again.”

—“Ghh… hh… ghhh…”

—“Peng Zhou. Son of the Blade King.”

—“...!!”

Peng Zhou’s eyes widened.

Gu Cheolwoon had spoken his name.

But he had acted like he didn’t know it before.

—“You… You knew who I was this whole time? And still did this to me?”

He couldn’t believe it.

Gu Cheolwoon knew he was a member of the Peng Clan and still humiliated him like this?

—“Aren’t you afraid of the Peng Clan?!”

Even as Peng Zhou screamed, Gu Cheolwoon’s face didn’t change.

—“Do you really think that name will protect you?”

His voice remained calm, almost bored.

—“If you do, then try it.”

Gu Cheolwoon crouched, bringing himself to eye level with Peng Zhou.

—“I’m not afraid of anything. So go ahead. Try it if you can.”

—“...”

Peng Zhou trembled uncontrollably.

He grabbed his arm, trying to hide the shaking.

Gu Cheolwoon’s gaze lingered on him before he stood up and turned away.

And then he said,

—“I’m going to walk away now. I’ll even give you a chance to attack me.”

—“Wh-what?”

—“If you really want to, go ahead. But know this—there won’t be a next time.”

Peng Zhou’s mind reeled, unable to process the words.

Gu Cheolwoon didn’t explain further.

Step.

He began walking away, his pace slow and deliberate.

Peng Zhou’s heart pounded.

Attack him? Now?

His hand was already gripping his weapon.

Gu Cheolwoon’s back was completely exposed.

The bastard who had humiliated him—stolen his teeth, crushed his pride—was walking away like nothing had happened.

Could he do it?

Could he kill him?

Clink.

His grip on the handle tightened.

He couldn’t just sit and endure this humiliation.

Not after everything that had been done to him.

He made up his mind and began to draw his sword.

But—

Freeze—!

—“Ghhk…”

Peng Zhou couldn’t move.

The crimson eyes flashed through his mind.

The image of the hand that had crushed his face.

The overwhelming strength that had shattered his pride.

His teeth ground together, nearly breaking.

He had to do it.

He had to cut him down.

But—

—“Gh… ghhh… fuck…”

Peng Zhou’s hand fell limp.

He couldn’t do it.

He was too afraid.

And then—

—“What a shame. You could’ve saved face. But your pathetic cowardice just saved your life.”

Gu Cheolwoon’s voice echoed back.

Clatter.

Something rolled to the ground in front of Peng Zhou.

It was the molar Gu Cheolwoon had pulled out.

—“Take it. I don’t need something so disgusting. Next time we meet, make sure to keep your mouth shut.”

Peng Zhou trembled.

But he said nothing.

Not until Gu Cheolwoon’s figure completely disappeared into the night.

That was the memory.

The nightmare that haunted him.

The eyes that had stared him down.

The pride that had been crushed.

It was a wound he could never forget.

So why—

—“Aaaaaagh!!”

Why was he suffering the same humiliation now—

Not at Gu Cheolwoon’s hands—

but at the hands of his son?

As Peng Zhou hung in the air, battered and bloodied, that question burned through his mind.