My Dad Is the Strongest Under Heaven
Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Chapter 26. The Fall
“Hahaha!”
Rounds of hearty laughter drifted from a private room inside an unmistakably lavish inn.
“Thank you so much for coming today, Grand Young Master.”
Inside, Peng Seojin was enjoying a meal with several middle-aged men.
They were prominent merchants of Hebei who had traded with the Hebei Peng Clan for a very long time.
Recently, however, they had found themselves in a dire predicament.
And Peng Seojin had stepped in personally to resolve the matter for them.
This gathering had been arranged specifically to express their gratitude to him.
“Did you see how those bastards shut their mouths and meekly promised to pack up and pull out of Hebei the moment our Grand Young Master stepped in? Hahaha!”
“When it was just us, they acted so tyrannical and glared like wild beasts.”
“Ugh, don’t even get me started. I was slapped across the face by those scoundrels! Seeing them tuck their tails between their legs felt so thoroughly satisfying. Hahat!”
“They aren’t one of the Five Great Clans for nothing. We truly feel so reassured thanks to the Grand Young Master. We cannot thank you enough.”
“I am grateful you feel that way. It makes the journey here well worth it. Haha.”
In truth, it was also true that any trouble these merchants suffered would not bode well for the Peng Clan either.
Yet Peng Mugang, the current Patriarch of the Peng Clan, was not the type to concern himself with such matters.
His policy was that simply being a long-standing trading partner did not warrant stepping in to solve their problems for them.
Peng Seojin, however, thought differently.
While partaking in injustice was obviously wrong, he believed that helping them when they fell victim to injustice and hardship was a necessity.
Only then would the Peng Clan be able to receive their aid when the clan needed help in turn.
Hence, Peng Seojin was more than willing to mingle with and assist merchants at gatherings like this.
For that reason, the trouble he had resolved this time concerned the tyranny of a merchant guild called the ‘Golden Manor’.
The Golden Manor was an organization that had been expanding rapidly across the Central Plains of late, notorious for stopping at nothing if there was money to be made.
Peng Seojin, too, recalled hearing of their foul reputation in passing.
Hearing that they had led armed warriors to terrorize the merchants of Hebei, Peng Seojin had personally intervened.
Fortunately, they had backed down far more meekly than expected.
Although the man called the ‘Lord of Golden Manor’ had left behind a loaded parting remark—“We shall meet again”—at the very end…
It was the kind of parting phrase one commonly heard while handling such affairs, so Peng Seojin had paid it little mind.
With their differing perspectives, his father and current Patriarch, Peng Mugang, did not look upon Seojin’s actions favorably.
Yet this was part of the vision Peng Seojin held for the clan when he would one day inherit leadership from Peng Mugang and guide the Peng Clan forward.
Though called the Mad Dragon in battle, in all other matters he possessed such an accommodating and warm nature, which was why so many followed him.
At any rate, such was the dinner and drinks he shared with the merchants.
“I shall take my leave now.”
“Yes, Grand Young Master. Please travel safely.”
Before he knew it, the sun had set and the sky had darkened; only then did he set off toward the Peng Clan alongside his escort guards, seen off by the merchants.
‘Haha. Did I indulge a little too much?’
Being among long-time acquaintances had naturally opened his heart, and with good wine and food flowing, he had drunk enough to become pleasantly tipsy, if not outright intoxicated.
Of course, channeling his inner energy would disperse the buzz in an instant, but he had no desire to do so just yet.
The night air carried a pleasant, crisp chill; it was a lovely, delightful evening.
Having been treated to a delicious meal of their own, the escort guards were all in high spirits as well.
Having traveled quite a distance further than usual today, they needed to make haste on their way back.
He could have stayed the night, but unless something extraordinary happened, Peng Seojin generally preferred returning to sleep in the main estate that very day.
For tomorrow brought tomorrow’s duties.
How long had they been walking?
As he headed toward the Peng Clan while gazing pleasantly at the stars, Peng Seojin’s eyes suddenly narrowed.
“Who’s there?”
No sooner had Peng Seojin spoken than the auras of his escort guards sharpened.
Rustle.
Soon, a band of sword-wielding figures materialized around them.
Peng Seojin’s face twitched.
It was not merely one or two.
It was a massive group, numbering close to fifty.
Peng Seojin and all five escort guards swiftly circulated their inner energy to flush out the lingering alcohol.
For they could no longer afford to enjoy the pleasant chill of the night, the wine’s warmth, or the glittering stars.
“Are you after me? Who are you?”
He did not realistically expect a straight answer, but neither could he simply leave the question unasked.
He was intensely curious as to what grudge or reason had brought fifty martial artists of clearly formidable skill before him so late in the night.
All the more so because, no matter how hard he thought, he had never made an enemy that warranted such a vendetta.
No—in truth, there was one place that came to mind.
Could it be… was that what “we shall meet again” meant?
The assailants sneered at Peng Seojin’s question.
“There’s no need for you to wonder about such things. All you need to do today is die right here without putting up a fuss.”
Fifty martial artists drew their blades and unleashed a suffocating wave of killing intent directly toward him.
“Ha.”
Peng Seojin let out a dry laugh.
Of course, he was strong.
Stronger than practically anyone his age!
Renowned as a prodigy since childhood, he had trained in the Peng Clan’s supreme martial arts from an early age.
Furthermore, in a clan of the Five Great Clans’ stature, lavishing countless spirit elixirs and internal beast cores upon the heir was standard practice.
As such, Peng Seojin currently possessed exceptional martial prowess and profound inner energy.
Yet facing fifty men—each only slightly beneath his own realm of cultivation—glaring with bloodlust in their eyes and poised to slaughter him, was hardly a welcoming prospect.
No, in all honesty, this was a critically dangerous situation.
Peng Seojin deliberately put on an unhurried facade to drag out the conversation.
And all the while, he calculated.
Charge straight in and fight?
No, that would be madness. At best, he might barely cut down a dozen or so of them, but far more blades would pierce his body in the blink of an eye.
No matter how much he racked his brain, the conclusion remained the same.
This battle was a certain defeat—an absolute defeat.
In a moment like this, wisdom dictated focusing entirely on escaping alive.
This was no time to cling to a warrior’s pride.
One, two, three!
Exchanging a rapid countdown of glances with his guards, Peng Seojin abruptly unleashed a palm strike at the nearest warrior.
Thwack!
Struck out of nowhere by the palm strike, one enemy collapsed, spewing blood.
At that exact moment,
“Now! Run!”
Peng Seojin and his escort guards sprang forward in unison toward the breach newly opened in the ring of assassins.
Yet their foes were exceedingly adept and swift.
Their blades flashed in the moonlight.
And then—
Slash, pierce!
“Gah…!”
“Daemyeong! Ilgang!”
Two of the escort guards lost their lives to the assailants’ blades.
Peng Seojin screamed their names.
Yet even as they drew their dying breaths, they shouted:
“Just keep running, Grand Young Master! You must survive!”
“Damn it all!”
Spurred by his guards’ desperate cries, Peng Seojin had no choice but to run and run.
Because he could not allow their sacrifice to be in vain.
A night spent in the highest spirits had turned into a living nightmare.
He burned with the urge to wheel around this very second and fight those damned bastards to a bloody pulp, but Peng Seojin knew.
That would be nothing more than a dog’s death.
Patter, patter.
Had they truly prepared everything and laid in wait?
Though they had caught them off guard and fled at top speed, the assassins caught up in mere moments.
They would be overtaken in no time.
The remaining three escort guards turned on their heels and threw themselves toward the pursuing assailants.
“Everyone—!”
“Go, Grand Young Master! Leave this to us!”
“Aaaargh! You bastards! You shall not pass!”
Yet it did not take long before their bodies were hacked to pieces by countless weapons, collapsing to the earth.
“Damn it! Damn it all!”
Peng Seojin pushed his lightness technique like mad, sprinting on and on.
Until—
Whoosh.
He soon arrived at a bridge spanning the chasm between two cliffs.
He looked around frantically, searching for another path.
There was none. In that case, there was no need to hesitate.
He stepped onto the bridge and sprinted toward the far side with all his might.
However—
“You’re not going anywhere!”
Assassins were already lying in wait on the opposite side as well.
“Ha…”
Just how many had come to take down him alone?
Peng Seojin was utterly astounded.
“Ha. Haha.”
Was coming out today the mistake?
No. Judging by their movements, they had simply been waiting for him to step outside at any time.
Thus, even if not today, he was bound to be ambushed by them sooner or later.
The assassins slowly advanced along the bridge from both ends toward Peng Seojin.
There was no retreat now. Was this the end?
Darkness seemed to close in before Peng Seojin’s eyes at the thought.
To die so absurdly like this?
It was far too pathetic.
Yet what way was there…?
It was then.
“…!”
Suddenly, the sound of flowing water beneath the bridge caught Peng Seojin’s ear.
He glanced down.
It was dizzyingly high—so high that the river below appeared as a mere thread.
Falling from here offered no guarantee of survival.
And yet…
“Is this the only way?”
Unable to hear Peng Seojin muttering to himself, the assassins smirked and gradually closed the distance.
“Come here. Even after killing you, we need to bring back proof. So don’t make this difficult…”
Yet just as the smirking assassin spoke, Peng Seojin’s face caught his eye.
Somehow, that expression laid his thoughts bare.
That was not the face of a man who had resigned himself to death.
Which meant…
“If I am fated to live, I shall live; if I am fated to die, then so be it! But I will not leave my fate in the hands of bastards like you!”
Peng Seojin drew his saber.
Then he raised it high.
“Y-You madman! S-Stop him!”
One of the assassins shrieked in panic, but—
“Too late!”
Slash. Slash.
Peng Seojin’s saber cleanly severed the bridge supports.
Along with that—
Snap!
The tightly anchored ropes unraveled completely, and the bridge gave way.
In the next breath, everyone on the bridge was plunging down the cliff.
“Aaaaargh!”
Never having imagined such an outcome, the assassins shrieked in terror as they plummeted toward the abyss.
“Ha. Dammit.”
Amidst the fall, Peng Seojin let out a self-derisive laugh.
Would he survive…? There was no telling.
Yet he had refused to die at their hands.
Soon, his body plunged deep into the river below with a heavy splash.
That was the last thing he remembered.
