Childhood Friend of the Zenith-Chapter 531

"The Blood Demon... what's your connection to it?"

Namgung Myung’s abrupt question hit me like a cold splash of water, shocking me into full alertness.

The Blood Demon?

‘Why here too?’

It seemed like every time something happened, it ended up tied to the Blood Demon. Even now, as Thunder Fang was brought into the equation, the topic of the Blood Demon loomed. Why?

I wanted to ask Namgung Myung why he would bring that up, but—

[That’s enough.]

Noya cut in suddenly.

[Let’s leave, kid.]

‘Noya?’

His interruption was strange enough, but asking to leave in the middle of a conversation about the Blood Demon? That was downright baffling.

This wasn’t just any topic—it involved the Blood Demon. A matter too serious to brush off.

But now he wanted me to just walk away?

[We’ll talk about it back at the room. For now, let’s leave.]

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‘…’

In that moment, I realized something.

Noya knew something.

And more than that—

‘This is something I’m not supposed to hear right now.’

The fact that Noya had interrupted meant he had his reasons.

I was faced with a choice. I could insist on hearing Namgung Myung out right now, or I could trust Noya.

There wasn’t really a choice to be made. The answer was obvious.

“…We’ll speak again another time.”

I chose to trust Noya. No hesitation.

At this point, doubting him would’ve been the real issue.

“So, what was that about?”

I returned to my room, leaving Namgung Bi-ah, the Hermit, Woo-hyuk, and the others behind. I hadn’t even gotten to ask why Namgung Bi-ah had refused Thunder Fang, but my curiosity was overtaken by exhaustion.

As much as I wanted to collapse into bed, I needed answers first.

[ … ]

Noya, however, remained silent.

Was he searching for the right words? Or was he unable to speak about it?

“Noya.”

Normally, I might have let it slide, but not this time.

This wasn’t just any topic—it was about the Blood Demon. I needed to know.

He knew how sensitive I was about anything related to the Blood Demon. If there was anyone who understood how much it affected me, it was Noya.

So I waited.

I had faith he’d answer if I was patient enough.

And sure enough—

[...Kid.]

Finally, Noya began to speak.

“Yes.”

As I answered, I activated a Qi barrier.

There were martial artists stationed nearby—likely sent by the Poison King to guard and monitor us.

It wasn’t surprising, given the scale of the recent events. They were here partly to ensure our safety, but also to keep an eye on us.

I didn’t care. By now, I was more than capable of evading such surveillance.

Technically, I didn’t need the barrier—no one could hear Noya’s voice but me.

‘Still, it makes me feel better.’

It was more about my own comfort. Besides, I didn’t want rumors spreading about the “madman of the Gu family” talking to himself.

Not that the rumor wasn’t already out there.

‘…Well, I guess it doesn’t matter.’

In some ways, being known as a lunatic was convenient. No one questioned your actions—they just chalked it up to your insanity and moved on.

‘Maybe I should act crazier going forward.’

It was something I was good at, and I could confidently embrace it.

While I solidified this resolve, Noya’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

[Before I explain, there’s something I need to ask you.]

“Go on.”

[Kid, what do you think a Gwimul (귀물, precious artifact) is?]

The question caught me off guard.

It wasn’t what I’d expected at all.

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

"What is a Gwimul?"

There are many definitions, but ultimately, a Gwimul refers to an object imbued with extraordinary power.

Artifacts like Thunder Fang or Gwijung often serve as symbols of sects or clans.

There was even an era when the number of Gwimuls owned determined the prestige of a family. If you wonder how mere objects could wield such influence—

The key is that these artifacts are beyond human capability to create.

Why do they become symbols?

Why do they retain value as assets?

It all comes down to whether humans can replicate them or not.

Rarity and uniqueness create value.

The rarer and more extraordinary an object, the greater its worth.

A Gwimul is precious not only because it possesses special powers, but because, as its name suggests, it is rare (gwi meaning "precious" or "rare").

Of course…

‘Though someone will eventually create artificial Gwimuls.’

In five or six years, someone will achieve this feat.

It’s debatable whether such creations count as Gwimuls, but when they first appeared, they caused an uproar—primarily because new Gwimuls had become nearly impossible to come by.

‘But that’s not the issue at hand.’

So, was Noya asking me if I knew what a Gwimul was?

If I had to answer:

“…Weird objects.”

That was the best term I could come up with.

Think about it—swords that release energy when infused with Qi, unbreakable bandages, or mysterious stones with unknown properties.

They were all anything but normal. I couldn’t think of a better description.

Hearing my answer, Noya chuckled.

[You’re not wrong. In fact, it’s a very accurate description. Now then, let me ask you something else.]

[When do you think Gwimuls first came into existence?]

“…What?”

When did Gwimuls first appear?

‘…That’s a good question.’

I’d never thought about it.

By the time I was born, Gwimuls were already widely known. They’d been around for centuries, integrated into history.

‘...I’ve never learned when they first appeared.’

I only knew they existed. I’d never questioned when or how they came to be.

Why would I? Gwimuls were simply a fact of life.

But now, Noya was asking me this.

“…Are you suggesting Gwimuls are connected to the Blood Demon?”

Could there be a link between Gwimuls and the Blood Demon (혈마), who appeared centuries ago?

To this, Noya gave a vague answer.

[It’s not a certainty. But it’s possible. I suspect Namgung Myung thought so as well.]

‘It’s not certain.’

Not being certain also meant it couldn’t be definitively ruled out.

“…Then why bring up Gwimuls at all?”

I also needed to know why Namgung Myung had associated me with the Blood Demon.

After a brief silence, Noya continued.

[The items now called Gwimuls originally…]

I leaned in, sensing he was about to clarify.

[...appeared alongside the Magyeong Gate.]

“…What?”

I blinked in surprise.

‘Gwimuls came from the Magyeong Gate?’

This was the first time I’d heard such a claim.

“Is that true…?”

[Why would I lie? I saw it with my own eyes.]

Noya claimed to have witnessed it himself.

If that were the case, it wasn’t hard to believe. Noya had lived through the era when the Magyeong Gate plunged the world into chaos.

Still, the idea was strange.

“So… are you saying the Magyeong Gate just spat out Gwimuls?”

[Do you really think it was that simple?]

“Then how did they appear?”

[To be precise, Gwimuls are items regurgitated by the demonic beasts of the Magyeong Gate.]

…That sounded even stranger.

“Demonic beasts… regurgitated Gwimuls?”

Items—not just stones or bones, but full-fledged artifacts—spat out by beasts?

As I stood there dumbfounded, I finally managed to gather my thoughts enough to question Noya’s logic.

“If that’s the case, why hasn’t anyone ever mentioned it before?”

If demonic beasts truly produced Gwimuls, why didn’t they do so now?

And on top of that—

‘There’s no record of this anywhere.’

How could something this significant go unnoticed?

[It’s because such beasts no longer appear.]

“…Excuse me?”

[You’ve noticed, haven’t you? The White-Rank beasts haven’t been seen since the Blood Calamity ended.]

“…Noya, are you saying—”

White-Rank beasts.

Creatures imbued with extraordinary power, whose deaths often left curses upon the land itself.

They had vanished after the Blood Calamity, but according to Noya, Gwimuls were artifacts born from these creatures.

[That’s right. Every Gwimul was obtained by slaying one of those beasts.]

“And how is that even possible?”

It was one thing to harvest materials like bones, skin, or stones. But for complete artifacts to emerge?

[How it works, I don’t know. It simply happened.]

This raised countless questions.

‘…But that’s not the point right now.’

At the moment, how Gwimuls were created wasn’t my main concern.

“Then what does this have to do with what Namgung Myung said?”

That was the real issue.

What connection did this have to Namgung Myung’s accusation about the Blood Demon?

Noya’s tone grew heavier as he began to explain.

[Kid.]

“Yes?”

[The Gwijung on your arm—have you never wondered how you can use it?]

“…Not really.”

I hadn’t questioned it. Noya had shown me how to use it, and he’d even scolded me for not using it sooner.

To me, it was natural that I could use Gwijung.

[That’s not the issue. I’m talking about how Gwijung changed.]

“…Changed?”

I raised my arm to inspect Gwijung.

‘Changed? Does he mean the color?’

Originally, Gwijung had the crimson hue of Mount Hua’s sword aura. But now, it radiated a distinct blue.

I had assumed this was because it had absorbed my energy.

[Yes, and that’s the problem.]

“…This is a problem?”

[Do you know why Gwimuls are so closely tied to their clans or sects?]

“I do.”

Gwimuls are diverse, and their value varies greatly. Some are relatively useless, while others, like Thunder Fang or Gwijung, are symbols of their organizations.

Such symbolic Gwimuls are exclusive to their owners.

[Exactly. But do you know why?]

“It’s because they match the energy of their owners or sects.”

Noya nodded in agreement.

[Precisely. But here’s the issue: Gwijung wasn’t always like this.]

“…What do you mean?”

[When it was first found, Gwijung was just a plain white orb. It didn’t have the characteristics of Mount Hua until I infused it with my energy.]

“So… it changed because you infused it?”

[That’s correct.]

And now, it had changed again—because of me.

“What’s wrong with that?”

If it adapted to its user’s energy, wasn’t that just how it worked?

[It’s a problem because once a Gwimul is infused, it’s not supposed to change again.]

“…What?”

I raised my arm again, staring at Gwijung.

It had undeniably changed, but if that wasn’t supposed to happen…

[And that’s why Namgung Myung sees a connection to the Blood Demon.]

“…What?”

Noya’s voice darkened further as he concluded:

[The Blood Demon was the only one who could override an infused Gwimul with his own energy.]

My blood ran cold.

It was impossible.

But the implications were clear:

The same power that defined the Blood Demon was now manifesting in me.