Childhood Friend of the Zenith – 508 (Part 1)



508 (Part 1)

”’Chapter 509 – Just Give It to Me Once.

Drip….

In a hollow and dark space one could easily tell that the surroundings were damp just from breathing.

Drip… drip….

It was so quiet that the sound of small droplets falling echoed loudly in the space.

The floor was stained with numerous blood marks evidence of how long it had been since something had bled there.

When the wind blew the chains hanging on the walls rattled creating a disturbing noise.

Moreover an unknown smoke lingered thickly in the air.

Anyone entering this place would soon come to realize what it was.

For this smoke was all poison.

How deep.

And how long ago it had been created was beyond measure.

In such an unfathomable place an old man was facing someone.

He wore a blue silk robe with the characters “Namgung” clearly inscribed on it.

His back was stiff as if refusing to bend and his shoulders were broad.

His hair was tightly tied back without a single strand out of place and the sword hanging at his waist complemented his imposing presence.

This old man was known as Cheonjon (天尊).

A martial artist representing the Namgung Clan.

One of the three revered figures known as the “Three Lords” of the Central Plains.

“Hmm.”

Cheonjon tilted his head and looked straight ahead.

Before him was the source of the clanking chain sound that had been bothering him.

It was a form that restrained something with iron and nails.

Surprisingly what was restrained was a person.

No it was now ambiguous to call him a person but he was certainly human.

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As Cheonjon observed him with his characteristic cold gaze.

“Cough… cough….”

Suddenly the chains rattled and a laugh echoed.

The one he thought had died long ago was surprisingly still alive.

He was gasping for breath as if he would die at any moment yet he was still clinging to life.

Perhaps it was the sound of his laughter that was irritating.

Cheonjon’s brow furrowed slightly.

“What’s so funny?”

With a hint of annoyance Cheonjon asked.

“… How could it not be funny….”

The head lifted.

His hair was matted with blood and he could barely open his eyes his gaze hazy.

Cheonjon could see the look in his eyes.

Nothingness.

There was nothing inside. It was as distant and empty as this space.

A chilling sensation made Cheonjon click his tongue.

“… The one who struggled so hard to become heaven…. has now fallen to the state of a dog guarding a house…. how could it not be funny….”

Drip.

It seemed even speaking was a struggle as blood trickled from his mouth.

“Cough… cough….”

The pooled blood on the floor.

Cheonjon walked past it as if he didn’t care.

After that he slowly bent down to meet the other’s gaze.

Cheonjon’s blue eyes focused on the other and he lifted the other’s face saying.

“The Black Dragon Sword…. it was certainly called that.”

“… Cough…! To think the great Cheonjon remembers me…. what an honor….”

“No you are not the Black Dragon Sword.”

Upon hearing the response from the one claiming to be the Black Dragon Sword Cheonjon immediately denied it.

It was inevitable.

“I clearly disposed of the corpse back then.”

When the sword master known as the Wind Blade annihilated the Black Dragon Clan.

After the incident the Murim Alliance took care of the aftermath. At that time the one who confirmed the corpse of the Black Dragon Sword was none other than Cheonjon.

“Yet you should not be alive like this.”

With such memories in mind how could he believe that someone claiming to be the Black Dragon Sword had appeared?

Cheonjon could not accept it.

“Cough… cough….”

Despite Cheonjon’s words the Black Dragon Sword merely laughed.

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“… With such a trivial perspective it’s no wonder you see it that way…. Truly pathetic….”

“What is your true identity?”

“I am… the Black Dragon Sword…. and also….”

Cough.

Black Dragon Sword coughed up black blood.

“… Ugh….”

It seemed the pain was considerable as he groaned with every word.

“… The burned flesh of that child…. does not heal…. I wonder why….”

“Child?”

“Cough cough….”

Burned you say?

Cheonjon recalled something from the Black Dragon Sword’s words.

He remembered that the one who subdued the Black Dragon Sword was surprisingly called a prodigy.

‘They said he was a child of the Gu family.’

Recently there had been much talk about a certain martial artist.

A prospective Young Master born of the Gu family.

He had surpassed the level of prodigy and now he was treated as a full-fledged martial artist.

‘They called him So Yeomra….’

There was no way he could not know.

It was one of the methods chosen to turn the angry public sentiment that had entered the sect.

‘They said he was here.’

In Sichuan specifically the Tang Clan.

He had heard news that the Poison King had personally brought him to the Tang Clan.

He thought it unnecessary to see his face and intended to let it pass.

‘But it wouldn’t hurt to go see him once.’

Since he was also engaged to the Namgung Clan he had ample reason to visit.

Moreover.

‘I need to see that child as well.’

It was time to see the child who was his great-granddaughter.

Because the Sword King had personally sent a letter.

Cheonjon slowly rose to his feet.

After all further conversation was meaningless.

The Poison King and the people of the Tang Clan had tortured him for a long time.

Yet the Black Dragon Sword had not uttered a single word.

How he had survived what his purpose was in attacking the Shinryong Temple.

What he had been doing all this time.

Even though ‘that’ Tang Clan had attempted severe torture the Black Dragon Sword’s lips remained sealed.

As if someone was blocking him.

It was no longer meaningful.

Determining this Cheonjon shifted his gaze away from the dying Black Dragon Sword.

To the wall that appeared to hold nothing.

As he reached out his hand through the gap

Clank-!

With the sound of something moving.

Rumble-!

Suddenly a space opened up.

Inside the space was something resembling stairs leading down.

Cheonjon paused to look at it for a moment before walking toward it.

He had to pass by the Black Dragon Sword but Cheonjon no longer cast a glance in his direction.

As if he had never cared he passed by him with a cold and indifferent demeanor.

Just after Cheonjon disappeared through the door.

Creak-!

The door closed as if it had been waiting returning to the original wall.

The space fell silent once more.

Within it the Black Dragon Sword lifted his creaking head and looked straight ahead.

In a situation devoid of light.

“Taechun… I beseech you….”

The Black Dragon Sword quietly offered a prayer.

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

Thud.

He walked down the long staircase for quite a while.

Cheonjon was passing through a narrow passage.

Whoooom.

The deeper he went the thicker the poison became. Cheonjon raised his energy to block it.

It was denser than expected.

The poison was so thick that even Cheonjon felt uneasy indicating it was beyond mere annoyance.

Splash.

He felt moisture on the stairs.

Did that mean he was almost there?

Feeling an unknown revulsion Cheonjon quickened his pace and soon he reached his destination.

The first place he encountered after exiting the passage was brightly lit by lanterns on the walls contrasting with the dark upper floor.

Moreover.

‘Tsk.’

The smell of blood pierced his nose.

The moisture he had felt earlier was likely blood.

Was it human blood?

Cheonjon looked down at his feet.

The color of the blood which emitted a terrible stench was blue.

It meant it was the blood of a demonic beast not human blood.

Even so with this much quantity.

No matter how much it wasn’t human blood the mere sight of it brought a wave of nausea prompting Cheonjon to wave his hand.

Then.

Whoooosh-!

The wind whipped around sweeping away the blood that had pooled on the floor.

The floor was relatively clean now.

Cheonjon stood there gazing at something.

He wondered where all this blood that soaked the floor had come from and it was right there.

Something piled up in layers. Among the indistinguishable forms blood flowed.

Cheonjon could immediately tell that it was the carcasses of demonic beasts.

The stench of decay wafted through the air.

It was a sight that made one feel ill just by looking at it.

Seeing such a disgusting backdrop Cheonjon spoke bluntly.

“Is this all you called me for?”

As Cheonjon’s words echoed through the space.

Only then did the person behind him reveal themselves.

“That cannot be…. How could I summon your esteemed self just for that?”

The one who appeared with a smile was an Elder of the Tang Clan.

“Originally I wished to meet you in a much better place. Unfortunately I am sorry that it could not be so Cheonjon.””’