Childhood Friend of the Zenith-Chapter 500

TL Notes:

Hello, everyone! I know you've been waiting, and I'm happy to say I'm already here. Before we get started, I just want to explain one thing. The name "Eternal Bind" in the original sounds like Gui-jeong (晷正), but I used "Eternal Bind" as the basis. I think the descriptions of this item, as well as its unique characteristics, match the intended description well.

And one more explanation:

Dang Cheon-gi is the Poison King. His full identity includes:

Title: Dokwang (독왕), which translates to Poison King

Personal Name: Dang Cheon-gi (당천기)

Let's get started!

_____________________________________

"Eternal Bind, was it?"

This was the artifact I once obtained from the archives of the Divine Dragon Pavilion, a name given to what was considered one of Mount Hua’s most treasured items—a bandage.

It was a strange thing, always tightly bound around my left arm, refusing to unravel no matter how I tried. At first, I questioned how this so-called treasure could live up to its name.

Aside from its unique reddish-purple hue and the faint fragrance of plum blossoms, it was merely a bandage that wouldn’t come loose.

But then…

‘Turns out it’s not that simple.’

After Shin Noya awoke, I learned Eternal Bind’s true nature. What I had thought was just some piece of cloth turned out to be, surprisingly…

‘…A sword?’

As Shin Noya explained, Eternal Bind was once his beloved blade.

He didn’t hold back his complaints, scolding me for using such a significant weapon as nothing more than a makeshift bandage.

‘...Then he could’ve at least shown me how to use it.’

He handed it over and vanished. How was I supposed to know what it really was? Then he returned later to scold me for using it incorrectly.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit indignant.

‘So… this is supposed to be a sword?’

How could a bandage be considered a sword? It turned out that I was entirely mistaken.

[This is no mere cloth to begin with.]

Looking at Eternal Bind’s form, it seemed natural to think it was simply cloth. But according to Noya, it was more than that.

And furthermore…

[If you think of it as a sword, that would be incorrect as well.]

Don’t think of it as a sword? He called it his sword, yet told me not to think of it as one. What could he mean by that?

As my frustration grew with every vague answer, Noya finally explained the true power of the artifact, Eternal Bind.

[If you imagine it as a sword, it will become a sword. But if you envision something else, it will take that form. Eternal Bind can become whatever you desire.]

It would take on any shape I wished. That’s what Noya said about Eternal Bind.

But then, how should I use it?

I understood that it was a treasure, and that there was a method to wield it.

But how exactly was it supposed to be used?

The power of Eternal Bind was that it could become a sword or any form I desired. The method for using it was surprisingly simple.

[Just believe.]

Just believe.

Believe that Eternal Bind will transform as you wish.

Oddly enough, that unimpressive phrase was all it took. When I did as he said, Eternal Bind actually moved according to my will.

It even grasped things as if it had a will of its own, and just as Noya described, I could wield it in the form of a sword.

The only slight drawback was that it couldn’t change into multiple forms at once.

For instance, I couldn’t use it to extend as a bandage and hold onto something while it was in sword form.

But even with that limitation, I was more than satisfied handling Eternal Bind.

After all, its power didn’t merely stop at changing its shape.

Its true strength, as Noya explained, was this:

‘It never breaks.’

Eternal Bind doesn’t tear, shatter, or crumble.

Once hardened, it becomes indestructible against any attack. Noya called that Eternal Bind’s true power.

‘An absurd power.’

The moment I heard that, it left me speechless.

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Even the thousand-year-old steel known as the strongest material in Zhongyuan can break eventually.

I wondered if something truly unbreakable could even exist. But whether or not it was absolute, Eternal Bind’s durability was indeed formidable.

Look at it now.

It had blocked the Hermit’s sword, imbued with his strength, without even a scratch.

As the Hermit gaped in astonishment at his sword being blocked, a slight opening appeared.

I took advantage of that gap to loosen Eternal Bind and wrap it around the Hermit’s sword.

The distance between us closed in an instant.

Seizing the moment, I unleashed the Flame Orb.

And as a result…

Whoosh...

Traces of blue flames marked the ground, scorched and broken in several places.

I extended my hand.

Whoooosh—!

The heat that lingered in the air and the flames on the ground were drawn toward me. As the heat returned to my body, it felt as if energy was steadily building up in my heart.

‘Not as much was used as I thought.’

Considering the two Flame Orbs I released and the flames I kept scattering, there was more qi left than expected.

Perhaps my body’s transformation had increased my energy reserves.

No, more likely, it was because I had better control over my strength.

‘I can endure more compression now.’

Compression, rotation, and release.

Those were the essentials in mastering qi and flames that I’d learned from Shin Noya and my father.

I’d been practicing how to maximize power while using minimal qi.

Compression and rotation put a lot of strain on the body.

There was a limit to how much I could withstand, which left me constantly frustrated.

‘...But as my body grew stronger, so did my limits.’

As my physical strength increased, I could maintain compression for longer, strengthening the power of both compression and rotation.

‘And that’s the result.’

I looked forward.

At the center of the devastated ground was a massive crater—the aftermath of the Flame Orb I’d unleashed.

It seemed I’d grown stronger. Even using the same amount of qi as before, the effect of the Flame Orb was far greater than it used to be.

And at the center of that crater…

“Haha…”

The Hermit, on one knee, was laughing softly.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

He surveyed the surroundings with an expression of disbelief.

I observed the Hermit and nodded to myself.

Fortunately, he seemed unscathed.

‘I was able to pull it back just in time.’

Even though I’d detonated the Flame Orb, I managed to control it to avoid harming the Hermit.

Of course.

‘If he’d taken a direct hit… that would’ve been troublesome for me too.’

Regardless of my intentions, things would’ve been problematic if I were truly fighting to kill him.

Besides, I knew the Hermit had been holding back, swinging his sword without lethal intent.

‘After all, he’s Woo-hyuk’s teacher.’

Being the mentor of the Dormant Dragon himself, I didn’t want to injure him.

So, I forcefully held back, only creating a blast around us while sparing the Hermit from any harm.

I’d taken the recoil, but…

My body held up just fine. That was also an advantage.

“Haha. To think I’d lose.”

The Hermit laughed awkwardly. I tilted my head and replied.

“I know you were holding back.”

Maybe that last strike was serious, but up until then, I knew the Hermit hadn’t been fighting at full strength.

‘If he’d been serious from the start, I would’ve lost.’

If he had unleashed his full power from the beginning, who knows what the outcome would’ve been.

Even if I’d given it everything I had, I might’ve landed a single hit.

‘But winning would’ve been too difficult.’

A true victory would have been beyond my reach.

Even just now, I had to rely on Eternal Bind to respond, so calling it a win would be a stretch.

‘I still have a sense of honor.’

[What?]

‘Quiet, please.’

I preempted Noya’s response, knowing he’d chime in with a retort.

I meant it genuinely.

‘After all, he didn’t even use Thunder Fang.’

The Hermit had only used an ordinary iron sword. He hadn’t wielded Thunder Fang, the treasured weapon.

Of course…

‘I’m not even sure he can use Thunder Fang.’

Considering he hadn’t used Namgung-style techniques but rather Wudang’s swordsmanship, I doubted he’d be able to fully wield Thunder Fang’s lightning-based abilities.

But it was hard to say for certain.

‘What would have happened if he’d used Thunder Fang?’

If I’d fought the Hermit while he wielded Thunder Fang, would it have been on another level?

As I pondered, feeling a tinge of curiosity…

[To think you wielded Eternal Bind…]

From somewhere in the crater, I heard a voice.

It sounded like Namgung Myung’s. Apparently, he, too, recognized Eternal Bind.

[Shincheol, have you gone mad? Passing on Eternal Bind…!]

[What’s it to you? It’s mine to give. Why are you so agitated?]

[Do you really think it makes sense to give something so emblematic of Mount Hua to a child from another clan?]

[Hmph.]

[What was that…?]

[You, always muttering like you’re something special. Tsk, tsk, you can’t even fight properly. No wonder Namgung is in its current state.]

[You insolent…!]

He used to scold me for my sharp tongue, yet here he was, equally unrestrained.

“…Sigh.”

I let out a long breath and took a few steps forward.

There was something embedded in the ground ahead of me.

A dark blue rod was stuck in the ground. It looked like Thunder Fang.

It must have fallen from the Hermit’s grasp during our final clash.

Since Namgung Myung’s voice was coming from that direction, I was likely correct.

I approached slowly.

I didn’t intend to steal it. I only meant to retrieve it and return it to him.

After all, the Hermit had been pushed back by the blast and was a good distance away.

‘I haven’t even had a chance to bring it up.’

Since we hadn’t had a chance to discuss Thunder Fang yet, I intended to give it back to the Hermit.

“Wait! Stop!”

Hearing my intention, the Hermit suddenly shouted, alarmed.

“Hm?”

However, by the time I heard his voice, I’d already reached out and grabbed Thunder Fang.

Clink.

The blade came loose easily as I picked it up.

‘It feels like it fits my hand well.’

The grip felt perfect, like it was made for me.

If I were a swordsman, I’d likely seek out a weapon with such a handle.

Perhaps this was why it was one of the five great blades in Zhongyuan.

Just as I was about to walk over and return Thunder Fang to the Hermit…

[How dare you…! Where do you think you’re grabbing!?]

Suddenly, Namgung Myung’s voice burst out in rage.

“Elder! Stop!”

Upon hearing this, the Hermit rose to his feet and hurried toward me.

What’s going on? Why are they acting this way?

As I stood there, puzzled…

Flash—!

Suddenly, a bright light burst from Thunder Fang. A dazzling, intense glow that forced me to close my eyes.

I should have been on edge from the menacing light, but…

Plop.

Contrary to my expectations, the flash faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. It seemed like something was about to happen, but… it was just a brief glimmer. Not exactly what I’d call a torchlight…

I stared at Thunder Fang with a somewhat deflated gaze.

But something about it seemed off.

[…Huh?]

“…Hm?”

With nothing happening, both the Hermit and Namgung Myung sounded puzzled.

The Hermit turned to me with a baffled expression, so I asked him,

“…What’s wrong?”

Why were they reacting like this?

*********

At the same time, in the Tang Clan Leader’s Chamber.

The Poison King sat at his desk, gazing out through the window.

The season had turned to summer. The air was steadily growing warmer, and the change of seasons was beginning to feel palpable.

Clack, creak.

A soft murmur from the waterwheel outside echoed faintly, and the Poison King lifted his teacup slowly, savoring the calm of the night with a sip.

Gulp.

The sound of swallowing filled the quiet room, emphasizing the depth of the silence.

Time seemed to stretch in the serene and tranquil stillness, yet within the Poison King, there was anything but calm.

“Haa…”

A sigh escaped him.

How could he not feel disturbed? The Poison King was on the verge of spiraling into a profound turmoil of thoughts.

Recalling his last encounter with Gu Yangcheon, the Poison King couldn’t forget his words—accusations that the Tang Clan’s project to cultivate the Celestial Physique was still ongoing. Initially, the Poison King hadn’t believed it.

That scheme was a sin of the past, an ill-fated legacy he’d thought long abandoned.

It had been the greatest crime of the Tang Clan, once executed by the Poison Lord, an infamous stain that previous Clan Leaders had carefully erased from memory.

‘...What should I do?’

The conversation with Gu Yangcheon continued to gnaw at him. The possibility that it was all true troubled him deeply. And even if it was true, why did Gu Yangcheon know of it?

Was the Tang Clan truly rotten?

In truth, the Poison King had long known that decay existed within the Tang Clan.

He was aware of the sins left behind by their ancestors—acts that could never be justified under the name of righteousness.

But he had turned a blind eye.

Whatever could be repaired and restored, both the previous leader and he himself had attended to. The remaining rot he had ignored, choosing to live on without confronting it.

He’d had no choice.

Uprooting every trace of corruption would destabilize the very pillars of the clan.

The Tang Clan was vast.

Since the time of the Blood Demon War, it had grown strong and steadfast, expanding like an ancient tree.

If its roots were to be removed, the task of ensuring the clan’s stability until new roots took hold would fall entirely on the Poison King.

The Poison King knew this.

He didn’t yet possess the power to do it.

This was why he’d exercised restraint.

It was the reason he’d made alliances with the Moyong Clan to extend his influence across all of Zhongyuan and why, from the time Nakgeom took charge of the Martial Alliance, the Tang Clan had started engaging in various activities.

The Poison King needed power.

But…

‘It’s too late.’

He had to acknowledge that it was too late now.

The rot had spread far and wide, creeping up to his feet before he even realized it.

He wondered if Gu Yangcheon’s words could be false, but deep down, he was already certain something was amiss.

It had been clear ever since Gu Yangcheon was poisoned.

That someone had poisoned a guest he’d invited himself, and that no evidence or culprit could be found even when searched.

He knew exactly who was behind it.

The Poison King had his suspicions, but lacking evidence and being unable to challenge those involved made things complicated.

The culprit was likely among the clan elders.

It was the only possibility. For anyone to orchestrate such an act within the Tang Clan without his knowledge…

At the very least, they had to be of elder rank.

If not, they might even be direct descendants of the former Clan Leader…

But among those, only he himself had survived.

So, logically, the elder was the most likely suspect. The problem, however, was…

‘It’s not simple.’

Even if he knew, he couldn’t act immediately.

Seizing control over the influence they wielded was nearly impossible.

Even if he could expose their crimes and call for a purge, unless he had the power to absorb their factions and networks, the clan could face a crisis.

In other words…

‘This is my own failure…’

It was the result of his lack of strength as Clan Leader.

To manage the repercussions of past sins, he’d shared his power among the elders.

This had allowed the clan to remain standing, but it was also the very root of the problem.

This was a situation common to many clans that had adapted to the changing times. But when such crises arose, the impact was bitterly clear.

The most crushing thought was…

‘If I’d known earlier…’

If he’d been aware of this issue sooner, would he have confronted it directly?

He couldn’t say for sure.

Even now, the reason he was treating it so gravely was ultimately…

“Miss Tang seems to be involved in this somehow.”

Those were Gu Yangcheon’s words.

Tang So-yeol. His precious daughter, whom he cherished like a jewel, might be caught up in this.

How? How had she become entangled in this matter to the point where Gu Yangcheon would say such a thing?

Whether Gu Yangcheon’s words were true or not, even a sliver of suspicion called for verification.

Over the past two days…

The Poison King had met with every elder in the clan.

Feigning normalcy, he conversed with them, noting a few names in his mind.

First Elder. Third Elder.

The First Elder, who managed the clan’s medicinal ingredients and poisons, and the Third Elder, who oversaw distribution and crafted hidden weapons.

If they were poisoning with the Biwoo Flower, these two were the most likely suspects.

Likely.

It wasn’t a certainty, only a likelihood.

He had no solid proof.

‘If…’

If he did manage to find proof, what would he do?

Would he be able to deal with it?

Even that was not an easy task.

Which is why he suspected that, had he known in the past, he might have turned a blind eye.

But now, he could no longer ignore it.

His daughter was involved.

And so, the Poison King was faced with a decision.

If politics and power dynamics were obstacles that prevented him from acting, what options remained?

If he couldn’t increase his influence as Clan Leader in the short term, if circumstances were too urgent…

What options did he have left?

Only one.

Clatter.

“…!”

Suddenly, his teacup began to shake on its own. As he noticed it, the Poison King froze momentarily.

Whoosh!

“Gah! Urk!”

His vision spun, twisting painfully as an invisible force silenced the scream rising in his throat.

Thud!

His body slammed against the wall, and he slowly realized he was being lifted from the ground.

Only then did the Poison King notice that something was gripping his neck.

Crack!

“Grrk… ngh…”

An intense pressure.

As his body was squeezed by the overwhelming force, he looked down.

There, piercing through the darkness, was a man with crimson eyes staring at him.

“Dang Cheon-gi.”

A voice sliced through the air, reaching his ears.

The sound of his name being spoken.

It was a deep, resonant voice thick with fury.

With his neck caught, he was fully restrained. He hadn’t sensed anyone’s approach, nor had he managed a single response before being brought to this state.

“Grrgh…”

All he could manage was a strangled, muffled groan.

“Explain.”

The voice was calm but laced with a lethal edge, and the Poison King’s thoughts quickly returned to the only viable solution.

The answer that had eluded him in this hopeless situation.

The answer was force.

Political maneuvering, failure to control power, none of that mattered.

In the end, overwhelming force rendered everything irrelevant.

In Zhongyuan, where everything began and ended with strength, it had always been this way. Regardless of how they postured with elegance and nobility, the world of martial artists was just like this.

“If you fail to make me understand…”

Therefore, the Poison King, Dang Cheon-gi…

“I will erase the name of the Tang Clan from the lands of Zhongyuan.”

…had called upon the most powerful figure he knew.