Childhood Friend of the Zenith-Chapter 642: Thunder God (Thunder Fang) (3)

‘That bastard, seriously.’

Woo Hyuk—no, to be precise, the being occupying Woo Hyuk's body—stood before me, and I couldn't help but think.

How many times is he going to let himself get possessed? Damn it, saving him is getting exhausting.

‘If this keeps up, I should’ve just let him get taken over. Damn fool.’

It was absurd.

After all the effort I went through to save him, he got himself possessed again by some unknown entity.

‘Is he even the so-called genius everyone claims he is?’

A genius of his generation.

The pride of Wudang, hailed as a once-in-a-century prodigy.

Had he not needlessly thrown away his life in his previous one, he might have contended for the title of Sword King in his time.

But looking at him now, I began doubting even his so-called talent.

At this point, he might as well roll out a red carpet and yell, “Here, take my body!”

‘And besides...’

I frowned as I looked at the thing occupying him.

‘Who the hell possessed him this time?’

For a moment, I wondered if it might be Mang.

Perhaps he wasn’t truly dead and had simply bided his time to take over Woo Hyuk’s body again.

The thought crossed my mind.

But—

‘No.’

I shook my head firmly.

That wasn’t Mang.

‘It’s insulting to even compare them.’

This being was far beyond Mang in sheer presence.

Zzzzt-

A faint tremor ran through my fingertips.

It was an unfamiliar sensation.

My body instinctively tensed.

Something primal inside me screamed a warning—this was dangerous.

‘This is insane.’

Even my lips trembled as I felt it.

I hadn’t sensed anything like this, not even when facing Mang or that Crimson-Rank beast.

It was sharp. Terrifyingly so. A presence that cut deeply and left me both awed and scared.

It was as if I stood before a master craftsman’s masterpiece—a blade honed to perfection over countless years.

Could a human evoke such feelings?

It was absurd, yet that was all I could think of.

‘I can’t feel any energy.’

There wasn’t any aura to be sensed.

And that made it even more unnerving.

‘This is purely from presence alone.’

A martial artist’s presence stems from years of discipline and cultivation.

It’s an accumulation of their inner energy, physical techniques, and spiritual mastery.

And this man?

“...Haaa...”

I barely managed to steady my breathing, forcing my pounding heart to calm as I twitched my fingertips.

Could I defeat him?

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My instincts screamed for me to charge in, like a beast pouncing on prey, but my primal senses remained cold and calculated.

Nothing was visible.

I couldn’t see any openings, any weaknesses.

Only by staying still could I keep myself from stepping forward blindly.

A tense standoff stretched out for several seconds.

“Hm.”

The figure wearing Woo Hyuk’s face let out a low sound.

Even his exhale seemed to cut through the air, making me furrow my brows.

Though his expression was neutral, it somehow felt as if he were mocking me.

"You have sharp instincts. I’ll give you that. Your hesitation saved you, and it will continue to do so."

"..."

A chill ran down my spine.

Though his words could be taken as arrogant, the truth behind them made my blood run cold.

He truly believed in what he was saying.

And, disturbingly enough, so did I.

Without looking away, I asked him,

"Who are you?"

His gaze sharpened, narrowing as he regarded me.

Woo Hyuk was naturally laid-back and unassuming, but the expression this being wore was far from that—it was unnervingly smug, like a certain Namgung brat I despised.

“It wouldn’t matter if I told you. I am but a remnant of the past.”

“Then get out of that body. I doubt the owner gave you permission, so what the hell are you doing in there?”

I growled, baring my teeth, but for some reason, the man let out a small laugh.

“How amusing. And bold. It’s been a long time since someone has spoken to me in such a vulgar manner.”

Then—

The man moved his right arm slightly.

Reflexively, I stepped back. My body reacted on its own, overwhelmed by the sheer sense of danger.

Was he going to do something?

I kept my guard up and continued watching him, but he stopped his movement and spoke again.

“Normally, I’d punish you for such insolence. But I find your tone nostalgic. I’ll let it slide.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Speak clearly, damn it.”

If I knew who I was dealing with, maybe I’d hold my tongue.

But my damned mouth refused to stay shut, no matter how much I knew I was tempting fate.

It was a curse of mine—never knowing when to stop talking.

“You remind me of someone. Or rather, you resemble him. Yes, you do. And I miss that fool dearly.”

“What are you...”

I began to question him again, but my words caught in my throat as I noticed something.

“...Shit.”

I cursed under my breath, realizing what I’d missed in my heightened tension.

Only now did I notice the changes around us.

Everything had stopped.

Paejon, who had been preparing to step in, was frozen in place.

Seong Yul, who had been drawing his sword, was locked mid-motion.

The Black Lion, who had been shielding the Palace Lord, was equally motionless.

Even the swirling embers in the air had halted, like fireflies frozen in time.

Time itself had come to a standstill.

I had seen such a sight only a handful of times before—most notably when my father displayed his mastery.

But this wasn’t the time to marvel at the phenomenon.

I needed to focus on what it meant.

"...Who are you?"

My tone shifted immediately, adopting a formality I hadn’t used earlier.

Hearing this, the man let out a soft chuckle.

“Quick to adapt. And it seems you already know the answer.”

"..."

His words hit like a blade.

Yes, I had realized the truth as soon as I saw him.

After encountering him multiple times, I knew exactly who he was.

I had only hoped—desperately—that I was wrong.

But given where we were, in the North Sea, it made sense.

No, even if I had known he might appear here, I wouldn’t have expected it to happen so suddenly.

‘This isn’t the right time.’

I had planned to deal with him later, when the variables were more in my favor.

But now he had appeared before me, in the most unexpected of ways—by taking over Woo Hyuk’s body.

I briefly debated whether I should pay my respects with a martial salute.

But before I could decide, he spoke again.

“Even if you know the answer, there are still words that must be exchanged.”

In the frozen world, he stepped forward.

Crunch.

The sound of his footsteps on the snow sent a shiver through me.

“You needn’t remember me for long. I have no attachment to my name.”

His movements carried the weight of a conqueror, each step radiating an overwhelming presence.

“Though I have been called many names, my origin lies in my family name. That will suffice.”

Standing before me, he fixed me with eyes as sharp as blades and declared:

“I am Namgung Myung.”

"..."

“Pleased to meet you.”

Namgung Myung—the Thunder God of Murim, the hero of the Namgung Clan, who reigned over the heavens with a sword that summoned lightning.

“The descendant of that damned fool.”

He had come to stand before me.

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

Not long ago...

While Gu Yangcheon was locked in a fierce battle with the Crimson-Rank beast, a certain corridor leading to the Ice Palace Lord’s chambers stood eerily still.

Whiiing.

Cold wind blew in through the gaping holes in the wall, cutting through the silence as a young man walked forward.

He wore a slightly awkward expression.

‘It’s quiet.’

Unnaturally so.

Though the howling wind and distant sounds of chaos from outside could still be heard, there was something unnerving about the absence of certain noises.

‘Why is it so quiet?’

All the background noise that should have been there was gone. It was an anomaly.

For most people, this silence would have been a relief. But to this young man, it felt unsettling.

‘Is it because of that friend of mine?’

His close friend, who had also come to the North Sea, seemed to have a peculiar effect—when they were near, the noise would disappear, only to return as soon as they parted ways.

But now? There was no sound, not even faintly.

He couldn’t understand it.

Even as he mulled over these thoughts, the young man continued walking until he finally reached his destination.

Stopping in his tracks, he felt the sharp chill of the air brush against his cheeks.

Standing before him was a sight that made him swallow hard.

A corpse.

The body was in a pitiful state, completely drained ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) of energy and stripped of all moisture.

It had long since lost any semblance of its original form.

Eyes half-open, unable to close even in death, the body lay there in disgrace.

The young man leaned down and gently shut the woman’s lifeless eyes.

"..."

He had nothing to say.

This was simply how things had turned out. That was all.

Was he relieved? Woo Hyuk asked himself the question but couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Listen to me. If you do, I’ll save the child you carry within you.

The curse placed on his bloodline...

It had been weaponized against him, a threat wrapped in a desperate plea.

Where had it all gone wrong? Perhaps coming to this place in the first place had been his mistake.

Or maybe he was never meant to be born into this world.

Ah, yes. That must have been it.

From the moment of his birth until now, he had never once denied it.

Even when his family abandoned him, leaving him to rot.

Even when his father, unable to handle his existence, had tried to kill him under the guise of honor.

Those moments never left him, even when he had managed to escape to Zhongyuan, carving out a fragile existence in hiding.

That had been his life.

He had lived and survived, only to return to this land, and it had been nothing short of ridiculous.

His father, fearful of his son’s cultivation, had hidden his ambitions and sought him out, calling him by the name he had abandoned as a child.

It was grotesque.

That was when he realized—he no longer felt anything.

So when his father was torn apart and met his end, Woo Hyuk’s expression remained indifferent.

‘They call it home.’

A place deep in one’s heart that evokes longing and nostalgia.

But to Woo Hyuk, this place was hell.

A frozen, unyielding hell that would never thaw.

Standing in that corner of hell, Woo Hyuk turned his back on the dead woman.

He still couldn’t understand why she had clung to him so desperately.

Why she had demeaned herself in such a pathetic manner.

Whatever feelings she had poured into her actions, Woo Hyuk didn’t know.

And frankly, he didn’t want to look at her pitiful state any longer.

His emotions, like the icy air around him, turned cold.

He fed the fire within himself, refusing to let his emotions wither completely.

Even if he didn’t understand, he couldn’t let himself die inside.

To live with a heart as dry and barren as this would be the greatest disgrace of all.

Straightening up, Woo Hyuk turned around.

The biting cold remained, but behind him stood something translucent.

It was a familiar face.

Of course it was—this figure bore the exact same face as his master.

Only, it was not his master.

[Have you finished your farewells?]

The middle-aged figure’s voice broke the silence, and Woo Hyuk bowed his head.

"...Thank you for your patience."

The figure’s hair shifted slightly as Woo Hyuk spoke.

[How are things with the girl? Is it love?]

Was that how it seemed? Woo Hyuk smiled faintly at the unexpected question.

"It’s not like that. If anything, I’d call her an enemy."

[Hmm.]

There was no follow-up question, no probing into why he would treat an enemy this way.

The figure showed no interest, and his expression reflected as much.

Oddly enough, Woo Hyuk found comfort in that lack of interest.

"May I ask how I should address you, Senior?"

His voice carried a hint of tension.

That was only natural. Anyone who understood who this man was would feel the same.

Well, perhaps not everyone.

There was one lunatic—a certain wild dog of a friend—who might not care.

[Titles are unimportant. As long as you show respect, call me whatever you wish.]

"Then I shall call you Thunder God, Senior."

The man’s brow twitched slightly at Woo Hyuk’s response.

[A needless embellishment.]

It was a name he had been called before, but far less often than others.

The flattery was obvious, and it didn’t seem to please him.

[Enough with the pleasantries. Let’s get to the point.]

"I’m listening."

Even as he responded, Woo Hyuk couldn’t help but observe the man.

‘He looks just like him.’

He bore an uncanny resemblance to Woo Hyuk’s master, the Hermit of Wudang.

Of course, as his ancestor, such a resemblance was expected, but...

‘This is too much.’

It was to the point where they could have been mistaken for twins.

A wave of nostalgia swept over him, bringing his master’s face to mind. Woo Hyuk smiled bitterly.

‘To meet him here...’

When Woo Hyuk first heard about this man while exploring the underground chambers, he had been shocked.

And who wouldn’t be?

This was Namgung Myung, the Thunder God, a hero of the Namgung Clan who had once saved the world.

Who could have guessed he was slumbering here, in the North Sea?

Even as Woo Hyuk looked at him now, it felt unreal.

‘A lingering spirit.’

Could such a thing even exist? To someone with roots in Wudang’s philosophy, it was astonishing.

The only regret was that Woo Hyuk was the one standing here to meet him.

‘I’m unworthy.’

There were two descendants of Namgung in the North Sea.

One had abandoned the family name to settle in Wudang, though they could reclaim the title of head at any time.

The other might well become the first female head of the Namgung Clan—or so it was said.

‘Though she’ll likely become the next Sword Queen first.’

She was more than capable of attaining that title.

Even though Woo Hyuk had never met the current Sword Queen, he was certain of it.

It wouldn’t take long; her natural talent with the sword far surpassed the snowy expanse of the North Sea in both height and breadth.

Still, meeting the greatest figure of the Namgung Clan felt unsettling.

It felt like a waste.

Woo Hyuk couldn’t help but think it was a shame that his master or his junior weren’t here instead of him.

[What is it you seek from me?]

"...!"

The spirit’s words startled Woo Hyuk, pulling him from his thoughts.

Had he been staring for too long?

"I apologize. You reminded me of someone I know, and I couldn’t help myself."

[Hmm.]

The spirit nodded and continued.

[Someone from Namgung, then.]

"Yes... That’s correct."

The resemblance had naturally led him to that conclusion.

[Hmm.]

Yet his reaction was remarkably indifferent.

Even learning that the Namgung Clan still existed didn’t seem to stir any interest.

It was a cold response, unbefitting a forefather.

Choosing to ignore it, Woo Hyuk pressed on.

"Then, Senior, what is this matter you wish to discuss?"

Namgung Myung’s spirit answered with the same calm expression as before.

[In a short while, a great calamity will befall the world.]

He skipped any preamble, diving straight to the point.

The words were delivered in an emotionless tone, yet they carried a chilling weight.

Woo Hyuk’s eyes widened in shock.

"A calamity? What do you mean?"

A calamity, out of nowhere? What was he talking about?

It was so abrupt that Woo Hyuk struggled to comprehend it.

But Namgung Myung paid no heed to his confusion.

[The time is near. The breaking of the seal is proof of that.]

"Senior, what exactly—"

Woo Hyuk, flustered, tried to interrupt for clarity, but Namgung Myung didn’t allow it.

[Though much has gone awry, it’s not too late to set things right. I have a request to make of you.]

"A request?"

[Yes.]

His sharp eyes, as deep as the ocean or the sky, turned toward Woo Hyuk.

[Become my successor.]

"...!"

Woo Hyuk’s breath caught in his throat.

[Take up the sword for the sake of the world. In return, I will grant you everything I left behind in this land under my name.]

Woo Hyuk’s body trembled at the words.

Noticing his reaction, Namgung Myung narrowed his eyes and continued.

[Though it’s unfortunate that you are not of the main family, this cannot be helped. Consider it your destiny.]

"I’m sorry."

[Indeed. Now, let us—what?]

Namgung Myung’s words came to an abrupt halt.

His expression shifted slightly, as if he hadn’t heard correctly.

[What did you just say?]

"Well..."

Woo Hyuk, looking slightly sheepish, repeated his words.

"I’m sorry... but I don’t think I can do that."

[...?]

Silence fell, thick and heavy with discomfort.

Woo Hyuk, feeling the weight of Namgung Myung’s gaze, hesitated. The spirit, meanwhile, seemed lost in thought, as if trying to process what he had just heard.

After about thirty seconds, Namgung Myung finally spoke again.

[Why?]

It was clear he still didn’t understand.