352 - Childhood Friend of the Zenith

Right after Cheonma disappeared through the Demonic Realm Gate. The woman hurriedly rushed to support Gu Yangcheon. "Young Master Gu...!" He staggered and collapsed. As soon as she touched him, Wi Seolah had to feel it—the demonic energy boiling up from Gu Yangcheon's body. "No..." Noting this, she let out a silent cry. In the end, it had come to this. She had desperately hoped that Gu Yangcheon wouldn't become a demon. But alas, Gu Yangcheon had become one. When she looked into Gu Yangcheon's eyes, she saw something different. Instead of his usual black or red eyes, Gu Yangcheon's eyes were now a shade of purple, the symbol of a demon. Seeing this, tears welled up in the woman's eyes involuntarily. "No... no..." Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, ready to fall at the slightest touch. At that moment, Gu Yangcheon moved. He raised his hand, reaching towards her. "Are you alright... Young Master Gu...!" The woman frantically called out to Gu Yangcheon, but he simply extended a hand to stroke her cheek. "Ah..." "Why are you crying all over the place?" His rough fingers brushed past her eyes, wiping away the tears. "I'm fine, so stop the waterworks. Anyone would think I had died." "..." While the woman bit her lips silently. Gu Yangcheon quietly gazed at her. She had also retracted the white aura she had been exuding. As the situation calmed down, a sudden wave of anxiety hit the woman. It was because there was something peculiar about the way Gu Yangcheon looked at her. She reasoned it might be because he was exhausted, or perhaps shocked from confronting Cheonma. But she already had to realize that wasn't it. "Hey." "...!" "We have something to talk about, don't we?" At Gu Yangcheon's words, the woman took a sharp breath. What should she say? What should she do? [Sister...] Inside, Wi Seolah was calling out, but now was not the time to answer that call. Just then. Ssss... "Y-young Master Gu?" A slight change began to manifest in Gu Yangcheon's body. The woman attempted to hastily inspect Gu Yangcheon's body. But her outstretched wrist was caught by Gu Yangcheon, as if to say not to interfere. The woman perceived the flow of demonic energy. The demonic energy that coursed through Gu Yangcheon's body began to move. In the brief moment when she wondered what kind of change this was. "Huuh..." Gu Yangcheon breathed out as if it was somewhat overwhelming. The change was occurring not only in the energy but also in his physical appearance. His dark hair started to show faint traces of red. And the color of his eyes was beginning to revert to his usual black. "This is..." In other words, it meant the demonic transformation was being undone. It was something the woman deemed impossible. Once one became a demon, they remained so until death. The demonic energy emanating from a fallen demon was so insidious. Only then would one expect liberation from the demonic energy. Yet, here was Gu Yangcheon, undoing the transformation on his own. How is this possible? As the woman watched in surprise. Gu Yangcheon, having gathered all his energy, reopened his eyes. "...Hoo." "How... how..." Just as the woman tried to ask Gu Yangcheon the reason. His gaze met hers again, and she fell silent. Quietly, making eye contact for only a scant few seconds, yet those seconds felt endlessly long. Should she make excuses? No, it's a misunderstanding. It's not what you're thinking. The woman thought countless times. She had anticipated such a day might come. But she had resolved, first and foremost, that she'd disappear before it happened. That way, for him as well... "What should I call you?" "...!" "What should I call you?" Gu Yangcheon's plain words. The woman nearly had an expression as if she would burst into tears at any moment. His tone was certain. He was already sure. "...Ah... uh..." "You weren't someone who was at a loss for words. Why are you malfunctioning now?" "That..." "Nevermind that, I have a lot of questions, but I want to ask the important one first." Where should she begin? How much could she say? What would he ask? Would he ask what happened? Why she hadn't spoken before? Or rather... Why did you kill yourself? Were you satisfied with that? Do you know what I did for you? Would he unleash those grievances? Imagining it alone was suffocating. Her hands began to tremble, but she forced herself to endure. He had the right to say such things. She was merely avoiding them out of not wanting to hear them. "Still." At the voice she heard soon after, the woman squeezed her eyes shut. Then. "Do you still hate me?" Gu Yangcheon's voice reached her. What did he just say? Did she hear it wrong? The woman's eyes opened slightly. The expression she wore was one of confusion, as if she had misheard something. The woman looked into Gu Yangcheon's eyes. "What do you mean...?" "Nothing, I just wondered how much you hated me to follow me. Can't you forgive me a little? I tried my best in my own way." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. The woman was left speechless. Such words... "What do you mean? You... you're not supposed to ask me that kind of thing." "Hmm?" At her trembling shoulders, tears finally fell. "You should be scolding me... calling me a wretched woman. Saying it's because of me. That's what you should say. Why... why ask something like that?" "What are you babbling about? Why would I scold you? Was that what you preferred?" "I..." "Ah, stop whining and just answer the question already. This is so frustrating." Gu Yangcheon, unable to bear the frustration, cut off the woman's words. And then he posed the same question to her once more. "Do you still hate me?" "..." Her wrist still held fast. There were countless questions he could have started with, yet this was the one he chose to ask. In a situation where grievances would not suffice. Where cursing and beating her might not suffice. The fact that this was the question he asked. Could it be he was insulting her in a roundabout way, she wondered. Gu Yangcheon's eyes were as she remembered—eyes she had longed to meet once more. Staring into those familiar eyes, the woman finally mustered a response. "No..." Pressed words trembled from her lips. Her enunciation seemed awkward and her voice wobbled, yet it wasn't a lie. She wasn't sure about when they first met. Perhaps she had hated him then. Probably had. The circumstances of their first encounter warranted such feelings. But at the very least, the emotions she harbored until her death while gazing at him were certainly not those of hatred. "I'm not angry... I wasn't angry." Words spilled out, her voice quivering. Hearing this, Gu Yangcheon released his grip on her wrist. "Thank goodness." He smiled. All he had asked after everything was that one question, and upon receiving such a simple answer, he smiled. That single smile caused a sudden tremor in the woman's chest. "..." A thought swirled within her mind. She wanted to embrace him. Memories surged back—the first and last time she had embraced him. The day she cradled his blood-drenched, dying body. Recalling those moments, she had not wanted to cry over a lifeless, cold form. Instead, she wanted to hold him now. Did she have the right to? No, she believed she wasn't worthy. Yet despite knowing this, she still wished to embrace him just once. She knew it was selfish. As if in a trance, she moved. Gu Yangcheon looked puzzled by her actions at that moment. "...Why don't you lend a hand over here?" She froze. A voice came from behind. "It's entertaining to watch, but things are quite urgent on this end." Turning his head towards the source of the voice, Gu Yangcheon recognized Bie Jin, who was sweating profusely. "Huh?" "...Oh." Both had completely forgotten about him. ****************** Creak. Smoke swirled thickly, enveloping a red coffin at its center. Unsettling as it looked, the coffin slowly opened, and someone carefully began to rise. Crack. Every slight movement echoed with creaking bones. The figure, emerging from the coffin, seemed unfamiliar with its own body, repeating motions several times. Crack, crack. Each movement diminished the repetitive noise. Eventually, when no more sounds were heard. An individual emerged through the smoke, stepping out of the coffin. Mohee hurriedly approached, kneeling before him. "...Are you alright? Are there any discomforts?" Inspecting himself, the figure responded to Mohee's inquiry. "It's a humble body, but it will suffice." "I apologize." "It's not your fault. After all, there's only one body that could truly satisfy me." Chuckle. The figure let out a laugh. As the smoke dissipated, his appearance became visible. Sweeping back his hair, the individual—remarkably resembling Jang Seon-yeon—checked his body. No, that's incorrect. He wasn't Jang Seon-yeon. It was merely a guise, as he was no mere primitive being. Jang Seon-yeon's eyes were no more; instead, vivid red eyes glared out. His cheek bore a reptilian texture until he brushed it away with his hand, erasing the remnants. He closed and opened his eyes several times, reverting them to Jang Seon-yeon's original eyes. Then he questioned Mohee. "Mohee." "Yes..." "Did you relay my messages as instructed?" "Yes. I have informed the sect master and leader as you requested." Swish. Jang Seon-yeon, or rather, the Blood Demon, slowly stepped out, donning the clothes Mohee had prepared for him. "It's been a while since I've walked on my own feet; it's rather refreshing." He wore a smile of amusement. How many years had it been? It must have been hundreds of years at least. It seemed like not much time had passed. No, in truth, the passage of time meant little to him, which is why it didn't feel real. "...My lord." Interrupted by Mohee's voice, the Blood Demon turned back. "Yes?" "May I dare to ask a question?" What would he inquire? Intrigued, the Blood Demon gazed curiously at Mohee. It was a silent signal of permission. "Why have you chosen to act at this time?" "The reason, you ask." The Blood Demon stroked an imaginary beard in response to Mohee's query. It looked somewhat comical, yet Mohee did not laugh. "If it's a reason you seek, it's merely that the time has come." "The time you've waited for, you mean." "Yes." In the distant past, the Blood Demon was sealed away. While the world believed he was slain. The truth contradicted that belief. He wasn't killed, merely sealed. Deeming it impossible to destroy him, they resorted to an elaborate sealing technique to ensure he could never rise again. How much intricate and formidable sorcery was required to seal just a single Blood Demon? Not only did they separate his body from his energy, sending them to heavenly abysses. But they also shattered and scattered his senses to prevent any chance of reunification. Emptying the mold and essence of his soul before layering a multi-tiered spell of blockade. Ordinarily, such a seal might last for countless centuries, far more than any passing years could undo. But the Blood Demon broke the seal in less than a century after the great Demon War concluded. Contrary to expectations that hoped to contain him for centuries. It barely took a hundred years. Ironically, this was already within Blood Demon's expectations. He believed that no mere creation of humans could contain him. A hundred years. Even that time frame was quite commendable. However, he had only freed himself from the seal, his body, energy, and senses had yet to be restored. There was no concern, though. Ultimately, it would all return in time. Such is the course of the flow, ordained by the order of the world. All the Blood Demon needed to do was endure. And so, time passed. The time had arrived. The scattered pieces of the Blood Demon had traversed time to finally converge. "I did not anticipate the pieces mingling with other souls, but it's not necessarily a bad thing." The Blood Demon's senses, lost in the flow of reincarnation, had gathered as if by design in this era. Is this yet another preordained step? The thought struck him as absurdly amusing. A figure with striking blond hair flitted through the Blood Demon's mind. "I told you, didn't I? Such efforts are futile." He recalled the back of the stubborn man who, despite his words, relentlessly pushed forward. Look, eventually, the flow of things unfurls in its destined course. "There may be slight disruptions, but they are merely unnoticeable struggles." Splash. He passed over a wet floor, followed by Mohee. "Yes, you asked why I chose to move now." "Indeed." "The world urges it." "The... world, you say?" Entities embodying the senses of the Blood Demon were born into this world. Since birth, the Blood Demon had sensed this. Every single sense, without exception. Do you see it as mere coincidence? No, it cannot be. When the Blood Demon resurrected, no such fragments were born. They were withheld. The time had not yet come. The fact that they were all delivered decades later means... "Heh." The Blood Demon merely chuckled. It was such an obvious story, amusing in its predictability. He looked up at the ceiling. Despite being underground, the Blood Demon's gaze pierced beyond. To the sky, and beyond even that. "Are you so afraid?" A cold breeze swept by suddenly. "What is so frightening, when all this is so delightful?" With a smile directed at no responder, the Blood Demon turned his gaze to Mohee. Mohee bowed his head, avoiding the Blood Demon's eyes. Though his face was veiled, to the Blood Demon, it was crystal clear. Seeing this, the Blood Demon spoke. "It seems your siblings have met each other." "...!" At the mention of siblings, Mohee's shoulders trembled. He had to stifle the emotions that boiled within. Jealousy. As he bit his lip to snuff out the feeling, the Blood Demon tilted his head slightly at Mohee. "What vexes you so?" "No, not at all. Why would I..." The Blood Demon mused over Mohee's actions. A pitiable creature, truly. Unlike the children who shared his body and energy, Mohee bore only a few of his scales. Jealousy, a narrow emotion, yet the Blood Demon did not blame Mohee. After observing Mohee closely, the Blood Demon turned to the entrance. "Right now, I simply wish to feel the wind." Originally, he would have lingered here longer. Yet an unforeseen disruption was drawing his attention. While the determined flow remained consistent. Something within it was beginning to veer slightly off course. "Fascinating." An anomaly had interjected into what should have been an immutable narrative. Yeon Il Cheon had yearned so intensely, but ultimately could not achieve it. The Blood Demon briefly envisioned a fierce-looking individual. A truly curious child. Not only did he harbor a terrifying being within him. But half of him was not even human. Moreover, he bore multiple stigmata of another realm. Ordinarily, a soul would hardly survive adorned with such marks, and yet he remained alive, breathing normally. Moreover, it seemed he was unaware of his own state. If not an anomaly, what then could it be? Having confirmed the anomaly he had longed for and anticipated was there, the Blood Demon found himself involuntarily taking steps. "This time, I shall see it in person." Anticipation swelled within him. "I'll reclaim all that I have sown." Including his senses. The Blood Demon was seeking to recover his body and energy.