RATTLE-RATTLE—!

The carriage sped up and left the road behind. The well-trained black horse didn’t tire even on the rough forest path, and it endured without complaint despite the way it was being driven like pure violence.

A carriage that shook and bucked in every direction.

And yet the coachman’s expression was calm. Like this kind of run was something he’d done a thousand times.

And the young man inside the carriage, too—he sat there as if nothing was happening, doing nothing but repeating his breathing.

A build so large the spacious carriage looked cramped.

Peng Dojin—direct blood of the Peng Clan—opened the eyes he’d been keeping shut and stared at his own palm.

“......”

A palm soaked with sweat.

As he checked it, the corners of his mouth, sunk low, slowly lifted.

“...Good.”

Clench.

He curled the fist he’d spread out into a hard fist.

“Very good.”

Peng Dojin smiled as he recalled the man he’d just met.

He liked him. A lot.

“I thought it was all bullshit.”

The greatest of past and present—the strongest under heaven.

The heir of the Sword Saint, the man who had ended the Orthodox-Demonic War and climbed to the peak, had appeared.

They said he’d beaten Namgung Seong, Little Azure Sword, and made his name, and that he’d saved the Tang Clan in Sichuan and risen into the spotlight.

Even hearing that, Peng Dojin hadn’t felt much.

Rumors from the Central Plains were obviously not something you could trust, and he was the kind of man who believed nothing but his own sense.

So he hadn’t believed any of that absurd talk about putting the Seven Prodigies under his heel, or becoming the strongest under heaven of the next generation.

Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered meeting him at all.

But—

‘My name got dragged into it.’

Little Sword Saint.

That name was the problem.

‘Bang Sungyeon.’

An illegitimate son born of the Bang Clan of Liaoning.

There was plenty of talk about how he’d become the Sword Saint’s heir, but that wasn’t what mattered.

‘He’s Bang Sungyeon.’

That fact—his name being Bang Sungyeon—there was only one thing Peng Dojin cared about.

‘Her fiancé.’

The man belonging to the woman Peng Dojin wanted, the woman he meant to have.

That was all that mattered to him.

Even now, that conversation from that day still lingered in Peng Dojin’s head.

‘I’m not interested in you.’

‘Why? A man like me won’t ever show up in the Central Plains twice.’

It wasn’t even an exaggeration to say he lived on confidence alone. Peng Dojin was the same that day.

‘I want you. Be my woman. Then you’ll gain the world.’

He would reach the summit of the world.

And he didn’t doubt for a second that the woman who stood at his side would naturally gain that world as well.

So he said it, boldly.

But—

‘Ha.’

The woman only smiled at Peng Dojin’s words.

A smile that even carried a sneer.

As if she didn’t believe him, or didn’t care, she sneered and said—

‘I’m not that interested in something like the world. And I can’t stand ignorant people like you.’

‘That’s a strange thing to say.’

He’d been called ignorant, but he let something like that slide.

Because he wasn’t ignorant.

‘If you don’t want the world, then what do you want?’

‘Who knows. I don’t think I’m obligated to tell you that. And more than anything—’

With delicate fingertips, the woman brushed her hair back.

Pretty.

Without realizing it, Peng Dojin had thought that.

‘I have someone. I’m engaged.’

‘Ha.’

Hearing that, Peng Dojin laughed.

‘Don’t lie. You think I wouldn’t know you already broke it off?’

‘Broke it off?’

Peng Dojin flinched. The woman’s eyes had sharpened.

‘I didn’t do that.’

‘What?’

‘No—fine, even if I did, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change anything.’

‘What are you—’

‘You asked me what I want, if I don’t want the world, right?’

The woman was still smiling, but Peng Dojin realized the nature of that smile had changed.

It wasn’t a sneer anymore.

‘Well... I guess it is similar.’

It was simply a smile.

A smile that held emotions she didn’t show outwardly, containing them whole.

Absurdly, in that moment, Peng Dojin fell for her.

‘That person is my world. It’s not something you can give me.’

“......”

As the memory finished playing out, the smile vanished from Peng Dojin’s face.

And not long after, Peng Dojin learned that she was looking for someone.

‘Bang Sungyeon.’

Her former fiancé.

A ruined clan’s bloodline, years after the engagement had supposedly been broken off.

He couldn’t understand why a woman like her would chase someone like that.

But—

‘That bastard was the Little Sword Saint.’

CRACK—!

The carriage shook with Peng Dojin’s surge of energy.

“Young Master. The carriage mustn’t break.”

“Ah. My apologies.”

At the coachman’s words, Peng Dojin immediately pulled his energy back.

‘Hmm.’

Leaning back, he pictured him again.

“This is troublesome.”

Very troublesome.

“I was hoping he’d be a simple idiot.”

But meeting him in person made it clear.

“I like him.”

Peng Dojin liked him.

That ridiculous presence.

“How is that even possible?”

That thick, unfathomable distance.

Facing Bang Sungyeon, Peng Dojin truly couldn’t do anything.

And even worse—

‘He aimed it at me alone.’

That pressure mixed with hostility, that lofty force that crushed the body.

The delicate control that scattered none of it into the surroundings, firing it only at him.

“Ha.”

With his sharp instincts, feeling that force, Peng Dojin thought—

‘I lose.’

If that kind of force was truly part of the power he held, then even if Peng Dojin faced him and drew the saber, he would be defeated.

And those movements, too—

‘No openings.’

Even just walking toward him, there were no openings to be found.

Even the smallest motions were steeped in edge.

‘I heard he isn’t even of age yet.’

What did you have to go through for the stink of blood to soak into your steps?

“Hoo...”

Peng Dojin kept clenching and opening his fist as he spoke.

“I want to fight.”

He wanted to fight him.

He’d been curious because he was the man she held.

If he’d been nothing special, Peng Dojin had planned to erase him right there.

But now that he’d met him, his competitive urge boiled over.

“...Did he tell me to keep proper manners?”

Even if he’d drawn his saber on the spot, he might have lost.

The arrogance of refusing to draw because the place wasn’t right.

That pride that looked down on him from far above, treating him as something trivial—it was good.

‘He has power. I have to acknowledge it.’

He had the power to back it up. That was why Peng Dojin smiled.

“...This is really troublesome.”

To think he’d feel this again.

The first time since that monster from Mount Hua.

“Hahaha.”

Peng Dojin laughed and closed his eyes.

This Dragon-Phoenix Gathering would be incredibly fun.

That was what he thought.

*****

“ACHOO!”

At the burst of a sneeze, I pinched my nose. What the hell? Someone talking shit about me?

Wiping away a bit of snot, I looked around.

I’d felt it for a while, but the atmosphere was quiet as hell.

It’d been like this ever since the carriage started moving again.

Do Hyeong was still looking out the window like before, but the vibe coming off him was weird.

Cheon Hyein—she was just leaking a vicious aura in slow waves.

And Cheon Eujin couldn’t even speak in that atmosphere, reading Cheon Hyein’s mood the whole time.

‘This is a mess.’

What a perfect mess of a carriage ride. That was what I thought.

If we’re talking about the cause, it was obviously that bastard from the Peng Clan.

‘...Pervert-ass bastard.’

Just thinking about him made my skin crawl. That was a first, too.

‘So that’s a Heaven-Martial Body.’

He really was built like something else. Pervert aside, his body looked good at a glance.

I’d only heard the Heaven-Martial Body, Heaven-Martial Body talk, but seeing it in person made it feel real.

A body specialized for becoming a martial artist. And on top of that, talent passed down from his predecessors.

‘Born with a gold spoon.’

Maybe that’s what people mean when they say someone was born with a secretary in their mouth.

Thinking about it made my stomach burn.

[His body was tempting, I’ll give you that.]

As if he knew what I was thinking, Yoo Cheongil nodded.

[If we’re comparing, I’d say his body is better than even mine back in my youth.]

‘Oh?’

That was some high praise. Not just anyone—Yoo Cheongil saying his body was better than his own.

[Of course, I still would’ve won.]

“......”

Was he seriously thinking about that right now?

What kind of competition even is that. He’s unbelievably petty.

[But, child.]

At his call, I looked at Yoo Cheongil.

[So. That thing he said—doesn’t it bother you?]

“......”

I frowned. I’d already been thinking about it.

‘Miss Murong. That’s what he said.’

She was his.

He wouldn’t yield her.

Peng ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ Dojin definitely said that.

And who “Miss Murong” was didn’t even need to be said.

‘Murong Yeongsun.’

In the Murong Clan, there was only one person who was Silk King’s bloodline.

Only one daughter—Murong Yeongsun. So the “Miss Murong” he meant could only be her.

But—

‘Why?’

Why did he bring up Murong Yeongsun there?

That was the question.

‘Something’s tangled between them.’ 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

There was something between the two of them.

That was why he’d said something like that. Murong Yeongsun had never told me anything about it, but otherwise it didn’t make sense.

And also—

‘Is that why he came looking for me?’

If I connected it, that explained why he’d come after me, too.

‘My attendance at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering is supposed to be secret, but...’

What secret is perfect in this world?

With the Five Great Clans’ information network, they could’ve learned that much.

‘...And he’d know I was once engaged to the Murong Clan.’

Whether he learned this first or that first—

Did he come looking for me because he knew?

‘...Hmm.’

I scratched my cheek.

‘Is there something between the Peng Clan and the Murong Clan?’

Engagements between the Five Great Clans happened all the time.

The Murong Clan only having one daughter could make things complicated, but—

If the match was the Peng Clan, it wouldn’t be a bad deal.

“......”

Tap, tap. I drummed my fingers on the window frame.

[Heh heh. It bothers you, doesn’t it?]

At Yoo Cheongil’s words, I clicked my tongue quietly.

‘Bothers me, my ass.’

It didn’t bother me at all. The only thing that “bothered” me was whether it would splash onto me and cause trouble.

‘That’s his life.’

It wasn’t something I could—or should—stick my hands into.

I was only worried that Peng Dojin would become a nuisance, that was it.

[You idiot. It’s all over your face. It bothers you.]

“......”

With Yoo Cheongil needling me nonstop, I just closed my eyes.

And thought.

‘Peng Dojin, was it?’

That bastard said it.

That he was such a great man that once you heard his name, you’d never forget it.

Annoyingly, he was right.

‘He’s already become a pain in the ass.’

That ignorant pervert’s name had lodged itself in my head.

And it pissed me off.

*****

By the time evening was starting to settle in—

HIIIIIIGH—!!!

After going on and on, the carriage finally stopped at one place.

“We’ve arrived!!”

At Chudong’s shout, I got up from my stiff body and stepped outside.

The moment I left the carriage, cold wind brushed my nose, and in the slightly chilled air, I wrapped myself in my clothes and endured the cold.

[This idiot... you still haven’t learned it?]

Yoo Cheongil spoke like he was disgusted by me.

The technique he’d mentioned since Sichuan—using inner power to regulate temperature.

He was acting like this because I still hadn’t learned it.

‘...I forgot, okay?’

I felt wronged. When the hell did I have time to learn that?

I’d been busy getting thrown around all day—when was I supposed to pick up some trick like that?

‘Damn it.’

It was cold. I really needed to learn it before winter ended.

“Haa.”

A thin mist puffed from my breath.

Proof that winter had arrived.

As that mist rose into the air, my gaze moved with it.

And then, far ahead, I saw the destination.

‘...Damn.’

The moment I saw it, admiration slipped out.

Massive walls rose high and covered everything, and even though night had come, I could see strange light spilling out.

And on a gigantic hanging banner spread across the wall, the emblem of the organization that ruled this place was stamped in huge relief.

The Martial Alliance.

Seeing it, I swallowed.

‘So I really made it all the way here.’

The Martial Alliance, called the backbone of the Orthodox faction.

And among it, the place where the Martial Alliance’s headquarters and the Ten Great Sects’ Shaolin were located.

‘The Main Alliance Headquarters in Henan.’

I’d finally arrived.