Childhood Friend of the Zenith – 462 (Part 2)



462 (Part 2)

One day Shincheol ignited a heart sword.

It was a realm he had reached known as the volcanic ghost sword just after crossing the threshold of forty.

What had he felt at that time?

Had he been happy to have ignited the heart sword?

That was nonsense.

He was simply sad.

He was only sad that he had not drawn it out sooner.

There were even more young sprouts he had failed to protect and thus his sorrow was overwhelming.

The heart sword was a culmination that contained such feelings.

Therefore.

“It means you have nothing.”

Shincheol acknowledged Cheonjon but looked down on him.

As he watched Cheonjon who was entranced by the heart sword his expression grew cold.

“Your sword contains nothing.”

What was contained in Cheonjon’s heart sword?

What was his conviction?

To Shincheol Cheonjon seemed far too lowly to judge value.

“Your vessel filled with desires in an empty shell is it truly worthy of being called a martial artist?”

Is Cheonjon a martial artist?

Perhaps he must be a martial artist.

Those who achieve and cultivate are called martial artists.

However.

If one were to add the value of martial arts within Shincheol to him.

From his perspective Cheonjon was not a martial artist.

If he were to treat him as a martial artist.

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Wouldn’t the heroes lying on the battlefield alongside him become trivial?

The three swords floating in the sky contained Shincheol’s intentions.

One contained the regret of not having become stronger.

The second contained the aspiration to save the world.

The third contained the longing for peace to come.

“I do not know.”

Is this world truly a righteous one? Shincheol could not express certainty about it.

Wooooo-!

The ghostly cry echoed.

The swords piled up growing in size.

“And yet I do not wish to know that much.”

Understanding the changed world was solely the responsibility of the next generation.

Shincheol’s regret was simply that he could not leave behind a better world.

Kki-ki-ki-!

The heart sword moved aiming at Cheonjon.

The plum blossom’s eyes which had not sensed anything remained sharp.

In that vast gaze Cheonjon was.

“Ha… ha….”

Suddenly he staggered and knelt on one knee.

For some reason he appeared much older than before.

The battle had not yet begun.

The heart sword still floated in the air.

Crack.

Cheonjon’s heart sword began to slowly crumble.

Seeing this Shincheol clicked his tongue.

He knew why such a form was appearing.

“I am disappointed.”

It was crumbling. Cheonjon had lost his will to fight.

He had not even properly exchanged blows yet he was collapsing on his own.

Watching this Shincheol could not hide his disappointment.

To crumble the moment he faced a greater wall was that truly the case?

‘Myung-i. Is it true that you are his descendant?’

Is it true that he is the descendant of the Thunder Sky One Sword Namgoong Myung?

He could not believe it.

The one who seemed least likely to mess up among the five had made such a huge blunder.

‘It seems he has completely ruined his lineage.’

It was enough to elicit a hollow laugh.

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He had wanted so desperately to protect his family.

What on earth had he done to end up like this?

‘…’

A complex feeling arose in many ways.

Hoo-oo-!

The heart sword which had been floating in the air also slowly dispersed.

It was erasing its traces as its role had ended.

From the beginning Shincheol had no intention of fighting and winning against Cheonjon.

The power granted by the heart sword was great but it was a bit much to catch up to the realm Cheonjon had achieved and end it.

Moreover killing the descendant of a friend was an awkward matter in itself.

Of course….

‘If Myung had known he might have killed him himself.’

Considering the nature of the Thunder Sky One Sword it might indeed have been the case.

However even if that were true it was not Shincheol’s role to carry it out.

Srrr.

The power of the ghostly sword he held loosened and returned to its original form.

The sword seemed to possess its own will as it slithered back to his left arm quickly binding itself again as a bandage.

He could see the life fading from Cheonjon’s gaze.

For a martial artist who had lost their will that was akin to death.

Though he had not died as a human for a martial artist it was no different from being dead.

‘For something so trivial.’

In the end it had only shown him a higher wall.

To collapse from that alone.

‘… I cannot understand.’

The more he looked the less he understood the situation.

There were many words about this being an era of peace and so on.

But this was far too low a level.

As he looked at Cheonjon the question he had been pondering grew larger.

Why are the martial artists of this era so weak?

How could it be so different from the era he had lived in?

He did not know.

Could it truly be because it was not a time of war?

That could not be the case.

No matter what the difference was simply too strange.

Even when looking at the prodigies referred to as the generation of shooting stars.

Compared to the time Shincheol lived in the difference in prodigies was certainly greater now.

However when comparing them to the elite martial artists of their prime the quality felt significantly lacking.

It might not just be Cheonjon.

How could someone called the best of the best in the Central Plains only draw out a single heart sword?

Was it because they were mixed up with inner demons?

If not what other reason could there be?

Shincheol could not understand.

‘I do not know…. Ilcheon’s son. What on earth did you dream of?’

The image of his golden-haired friend who had said he would lead the world to salvation surfaced and he felt a chill settle in his heart.

“… You…”

Amidst the silence a cold wind blew.

Cheonjon’s powerless voice mixed in.

The noble-looking shrine had in a short time fallen to that of a powerless old man.

“… What is your true identity…?”

Words spilled out as if he were staggering.

In the question condensed with various meanings Shincheol nodded.

What is your true identity?

“True identity….”

He had often heard such words since ancient times.

But every time Shincheol’s answer was the same.

“I am a martial artist.”

“…”

“I am just a martial artist.”

A response without a hint of wavering.

What Shincheol saw in himself was merely a martial artist.

Nothing more nothing less.

Hearing this Cheonjon’s head drooped.

That firm answer was as if it implied.

That Cheonjon himself was not a martial artist and that was why he could not even dare to refute it.

Cheonjon looking weakly at the ground.

Seeing that Shincheol let out a sigh and rubbed his chest.

He had only intended to buy time or hold him off.

But things had turned out somewhat strangely.

It was ultimately a good thing but the important matter was after all.

‘Am I doing well?’

For there was a wretched being with its eyes closed inside.

‘Tsk. Since this old man has exerted himself so much if you do not do well I will spank you this time.’

I would hit you hard until you turned red.

So if you do not want that.

‘Hurry and open your eyes you rotten bastard.’

Shincheol thought this and closed his eyes for a moment.

******************

At that time while all this was happening.

Pop-.

A single bubble rose and burst briefly on the water’s surface.

Following the traces that gradually emerged it delved inward.

An endless vast space was filled with water.

It was deep and wide yet strangely no other life forms could be seen.

Of course it was not that there were no life forms at all.

In the center of a place so quiet it felt suffocating there was a figure floating comfortably as if asleep.

The young man’s face was slightly scrunched up as if he were uncomfortable.

Was he having a nightmare?

He repeatedly contorted his face and then relaxed it again.

After a while of this.

Finally.

The corners of the young man’s eyes twitched slightly and eventually his eyelids lifted and his eyes gently opened.

“…”

In the tranquil place known as the realm of the mind.

Goo Yangcheon’s consciousness which had been lost finally awakened.