By Zephyria 
“You are just as stubborn as I am.”
Peng Do-hwan burst into a hearty laugh as if he had no choice, shaking his head. A clear sense of joy appeared on his face.
However, that smile only added to Seong Mu-yeon’s guilt.
“Then let’s go!”
With a reliable comrade by his side, Peng Do-hwan seemed to feel energy surging through his entire body once again.
The number of enemies who had shaken off Baek Ryeo-il and pursued them was twelve. They were a mix of Heukmajo’s subordinates and the Black Shadow Unit. They began to face off, keeping their distance as if trying to gauge the level of Seong Mu-yeon’s martial arts, who had joined the battle.
‘I’ll handle this as quickly as possible, then find Owl and leave.’
They weren’t threatening opponents, but Peng Do-hwan was not in peak physical condition, and Seong Mu-yeon did not have much time.
He possessed a constitution where his innate energy was incompatible with his physical body; whenever it flowed through his acupoints, it left scars and clawed at his insides. Therefore, even now that his body had recovered considerably, he had to use his inner force very sparingly, only when absolutely necessary. Especially now, when he didn’t know when Yak Seon would return.
‘Just this once.’
This would be the last time he intervened in the affairs of the martial world. After this, he intended to withdraw far away with Owl and wait for Il-gwang to rescue Yak Seon.
After that, regardless of who lived or died, he would close his eyes and plug his ears, just as Il-gwang had said.
While focusing on the opposing enemies, Peng Do-hwan occasionally glanced at Seong Mu-yeon. He had suspected it since Seong Mu-yeon rescued him during the dangerous battle, but he seemed surprised by the fact that he was no ordinary civilian.
“……Do you have no weapon? A sword, perhaps?”
Peng Do-hwan asked the same question Gang Woong had. It was understandable, as Seong Mu-yeon had a physique that didn’t suit a fist fighter. Even the warrior monks of Shaolin might look like weaklings who could barely strike a wooden fish on the outside, but beneath their baggy robes lay solid, iron-like muscles.
In this way, a martial artist’s practiced martial arts tend to manifest outwardly to some extent. However, no matter how one looked at Badger, he didn’t have a single trait of someone who had mastered fist techniques.
While a servant’s hands could be considered weapons in themselves, they were certainly not those of a fist fighter.
Peng Do-hwan, who had more experience than Gang Woong, was certain that he didn’t use poison arts or hidden weapon techniques, which aren’t heavily influenced by External Arts. To do so, one would need a place to hide hidden weapons or poisons. There was a reason why the Four Rivers Poison Hall, the pinnacle of poison arts, preferred wearing long robes with wide, fluttering sleeves.
However, the white short robes made of high-quality cotton worn by Yak Seon’s servants had narrow sleeves and a short length, leaving no such space.
Seong Mu-yeon simply shrugged.
It was one thing when he stayed at Mount Hua since there was no need to fight, but since he was pretending to be a servant of Yak Seon—who ignored the martial world—he couldn’t exactly walk around with a sword hanging from his waist.
Instead, he found another solution.
‘Why should I carry a weapon?’
After a short standoff, an impatient member of the Black Shadow Unit, thinking Seong Mu-yeon looked like an easy target, lunged in.
Against such an obvious attack, Seong Mu-yeon lightly used his stepping technique to evade and, before the enemy realized it, seized the blind spot behind his back.
“Ugh?”
The Black Shadow Unit member, who had exposed his back—a position that should never be given up—could not hide his bewilderment. That mistake returned as a fatal result.
Seong Mu-yeon struck the back of the man’s knee to break his balance, and before the leg could fully buckle, he kicked him in the back. The man was momentarily launched into the air, exposing his Adam’s apple. Seong Mu-yeon struck the throat, a vital point. After that, it was as easy as flowing water.
Before long, the man was rolling on the ground clutching his throat, and his sword had already fallen into Seong Mu-yeon’s grip.
‘Weapons are everywhere.’
It didn’t happen often, but fortunately, most enemies always carried at least one weapon. Unless they were masters who had reached the peak of claw techniques like Heukmajo, even fist fighters carried a dagger as a backup. Even Shaolin swung their monk’s blades if necessary, did they not?
Since leaving his beloved sword behind at the divine spear main palace, stealing weapons had somehow become his specialty.
“Hahaha!”
Witnessing the imposing aura of Seong Mu-yeon holding the stolen sword, Peng Do-hwan laughed triumphantly. Then, immediately changing his expression, he charged at the enemy first, catching them off guard.
As Seong Mu-yeon’s prowess exceeded expectations, the enemies hesitated for a moment, and in that gap, they were attacked and lost the momentum of the battle.
Peng Do-hwan rampaged to his heart’s content, as if forgetting the pain of his injuries. Explosive divine power and destructive force were the hallmarks of the Habeok Peng Clan. In addition, the chaos origin thunder divine art, a secret technique of the clan permitted only to direct descendants, further amplified these traits.
Considering its weight, the greatsword moved at an impossibly fast speed, making it impossible to even track with the eyes. Every time it swung, a grand, booming sound that seemed to rend space struck the ears.
The enemies could not hide their confusion at Peng Do-hwan’s movements, which were distinctly different from before. Fundamentally, the divine power of the Peng Clan was not to be ignored. However, no matter how strong a sword is, it means nothing if it doesn’t hit the enemy.
If the previous Peng Do-hwan had swung his sword indiscriminately at any prominent enemy without a proper tactic, he was now employing sharp strategies and neutralizing the enemies with precision.
His excessively cruel side was also barely visible. He was restrained, conscious of his comrade, much like the days when he fought back-to-back with Peng Yuan-jin.
Consequently, Peng Do-hwan’s weakness—bouncing around like a rubber ball without regard for surroundings when excited—vanished, and only his strengths shone.
Seong Mu-yeon was amazed by him. To think a person could change this much just by changing their mindset.
When a strong body, rational strategy, and precise forms combined, he seemed like a different person. A prowess that could stand equal to Baek Ryeo-il was fully revealed.
It was to the point where Seong Mu-yeon didn’t even need to step in.
For a moment, he wondered if he had done something useless, but when he thought that Peng Do-hwan had regained his true self because he had filled the spot beside him where his brother always stood, he felt a strange emotion.
Throwing himself into the fight, Peng Do-hwan seemed to have reached a state of trance, seeing nothing but himself and the enemy.
There was a magic to a person vividly immersed in the present moment that made it impossible to look away. At a glance, he even looked happy.
‘I can’t lose either.’
When such a presence is nearby, one inevitably gets influenced. Seong Mu-yeon, who had been observing the situation from a step back, readjusted his grip on the sword and leaped into the battlefield.
* * *
“Thank you, thank you!”
The gang members bowed repeatedly. Overjoyed at having survived their imprisonment in the Demonic Cult, they had become completely different people from those they were during the day.
However, Gang Woong, whose mind was elsewhere, failed to notice their change and responded with a casual wave of his hand before hurriedly turning back.
His steps on the way back were extremely urgent. Since leaving the Black Manor to take the gang members to a safe place, his heart had been pounding.
He felt as if he had missed something incredibly important. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. He even felt a strange sense of anticipation, as if something familiar yet long-awaited was waiting for him.
However, Gang Woong didn’t realize exactly what it was. Before he could fully grasp it, his bodily senses had perceived it first, and just as his mind was about to realize it, an urgent situation had forced him to leave the spot.
Something that seemed almost within reach made his heart flutter.
He felt that if he returned to that place and looked again, he would quickly realize what it was. Wanting to confirm it as soon as possible, Gang Woong pushed his Jin-gi further and concentrated it in his legs.
But the feeling of walking on clouds did not last long. Before long, from the peaceful market, a faint vibration followed by a violent explosion and screams could be heard.
‘Something has definitely gone wrong.’
His good mood plummeted to the bottom.
Not a single day passed quietly.
Wherever his Master went, he brought incidents, accidents, and bloodbaths. It was due to his teacher’s personality, who didn’t care one bit about the gaze of others.
To some, Baek Ryeo-il’s unrestrained attitude felt like a strength worthy of being praised as imposing, but to others, it seemed to grate on the nerves like a hangnail.
A large part of it was that no consideration could be found in Baek Ryeo-il’s words and actions, because he pursued extreme efficiency. Whether someone he didn’t care about felt slightly offended was a matter of zero value to him.
Since Young Master Peng Do-hwan, who accompanied them this time, was of a similar breed, he had expected a difficult journey, but……
Sharpening his vision, Gang Woong realized from afar that the person causing the commotion with a distinctly noticeable greatsword was Peng Do-hwan.
Then, what about Master?
An inexplicable anxiety made his legs move even faster.
By the time he finally arrived, the interior of the pavilion was already like the aftermath of a storm. The floor of the pavilion, which had been dark to begin with, grew even darker as it soaked up the blood of the fallen enemies.
Neither the enemies, nor Baek Ryeo-il, nor even Badger were in sight.
No sign of a living person could be felt.
It had all happened in the very short time he had been away.