Childhood Friend of the Zenith Novel MTL - Chapter 1032

Chapter 1032

Whoosh—

A gust swept through. It was a soft wind that stirred my hair and brushed across the still water, drawing out faint, shimmering ripples.

It felt like nothing more than a gentle breath of air. But I understood this wind was not natural.

A space entirely enclosed by stone. A place where no wind ought to flow—and yet, from somewhere, it had come.

It was completely out of place. Still, I recognized this feeling from once before.

‘When I stood before the Divine Tree in Yahwol…’

Back then, too—a tender breeze had moved through a space that should have been lifeless.

This was no different.

A wind where wind could not be. A sensation I could finally grasp, something I had failed to comprehend back then.

‘This… does not come from the Divine Tree.’

It was something alien.

Something that should not be.

This wind was born from something far beyond my understanding.

And now, I was standing before its origin.

A woman—who identified herself as a spirit.

A being who once dwelled on Mount Marryeong, proclaiming to be a priestess who could voice the words and will of her master.

The instant I saw her, my heart reacted.

Thud!

A fierce, hammering pulse. The energy sealed inside me thrashed violently.

Was it because she was an enemy? No, this was—

‘Because I was in the presence of something incomprehensible.’

An existence so lofty and remote that I did not dare lift my eyes to it.

A primal instinct murmured that I must not—could not—presume to assess it.

I felt it profoundly as I held the spirit’s gaze. She simply looked back, silent.

Yet, I sensed that something was different.

Though her eyes were concealed behind a veil, something felt… visible.

I stared at her, my mind racing—where had I encountered this before?

No… I already knew.

Had I not named it myself only moments ago?

I felt this—before the Divine Tree in Yahwol.

This wind.

This atmosphere.

And even that gaze resting upon me.

This feeling, both distant and unbearably close—

There was only one person in this world who could make me feel this way.

And so, I spoke her name.

“…Mother?”

“My, my.”

The spirit reacted to my call. Her voice was identical—but her tone had changed.

And in that very moment—

“You recognized me, didn’t you?”

Wooooong—!!!

The lake shuddered. The water, which had only rippled gently, now grew agitated. It wasn’t enough to form waves, but the disquiet it carried seemed to echo my own stirring emotions.

“How did you know?”

The spirit—or rather, my mother—spoke to me. I narrowed my eyes and replied,

“…It was just a feeling.”

I simply knew. My senses, my instincts—every part of me screamed that the figure before me was not the spirit.

And if it was not the spirit—then who else could it possibly be?

I raised my eyes to the heavens.

‘The full moon.’

The moon hung there, bright and undeniable.

Had Mother not said it herself? To meet her on a night when the full moon shone above the hill.

And the spirit of my mother, whom I met in Yahwol, had also told me—

That the hill would be on Mount Marryeong.

Now, the full moon was high. I was standing upon a hill.

And so, I trusted my instinct—

That the one before me was my mother.

I did not know how she was here, wearing the spirit’s form.

I did not understand how this moment had come to pass.

But what did any of that matter now?

‘The only thing that matters is—’

That my mother was capable of something like this.

From Yahwol—no, perhaps from the very moment I entered Mangyeong—

I had known.

“…How did you come to be here this time?” I asked.

“This time?” she repeated, her voice thoughtful. “So, you have already experienced something similar, have you not?”

“Yes. I met you—at the Divine Tree in Yahwol.”

“Hmmm… Is that so?”

Mother tilted her head, her long, white hair swaying with the motion.

“What did you hear from me then?”

So… she did not know.

The conversation I had with the will she left in Yahwol—this version of her had no memory of it.

I summarized it briefly, repeating the words her will had spoken to me beneath the Divine Tree.

“…I see,” she murmured, giving a slight nod. But when I mentioned that her will had told me to seek my answers on Mount Marryeong—

“Tch. She left the difficult part to me, didn’t she? That cunning version of me…”

She frowned at herself, her expression one of light-hearted irritation.

It was then that I realized—Mother’s demeanor felt… unusual.

In my memories, she had always been poised, graceful, and serene—

But now, she seemed somehow different.

Yet—

“Mother,” I called out softly.

“Hm? Yes, my son?”

She answered with a warm, gentle voice.

It was the same voice I had cherished as a child.

And it was a voice I cherished still.

I have lived through relentless struggle, my hands stained with the blood of countless lives.

Even now, as I fight and twist against the burdens forced upon me—

I am still nothing more than a child before my mother.

And somehow—foolishly—that brings me comfort.

But—

“What is it… that you truly want from me?”

I knew well that this was no time to bask in warmth or sentiment.

The road ahead was steep, and the weight of my duties was far too heavy for me to remain a child.

“I don’t understand why you brought me here. What is it you want from me, Mother?”

“Hmm…”

At my question, Mother hesitated.

Was she weighing her words? Or perhaps deciding how much she could disclose?

I could only guess.

Then—after a brief silence—

“I… want my son to be happy.”

She spoke softly.

“That is why—if it is possible—I want to guide you onto a path where you can find happiness. But…” Her voice grew heavy. “There are not many such paths available.”

“…A path to happiness?”

The words nearly drew a bitter laugh from me.

A happy path.

Did such a thing even exist? I had abandoned that notion long ago.

In my past life.

In this life, too.

My happiness had never been a priority. Not then, not now.

“…Does such a path truly exist?”

I said it carelessly, as if it were of little consequence.

Mother faltered.

Her slender form trembled slightly, and the words she seemed ready to speak dissolved before they left her lips.

I clicked my tongue inwardly.

That was not the reaction I had intended.

It was pathetic—like a child sulking.

And so, I forced the subject to change.

“…Mother. I need the Divine Fruit.”

The words came out, sharp and clear, cutting through the lingering tension.

There was much I wished to ask—but above all else, the Divine Fruit was paramount.

“…The Divine Fruit?”

Mother’s expression shifted.

Was she surprised—taken aback that I had mentioned the Divine Fruit so abruptly?

I tried to read her, but—

“…How do you know about that?”

“…What?”

Her question made me narrow my eyes.

“What… do you mean?”

A strange thing to ask.

“Wait—”

Now Mother looked genuinely flustered.

“You mean… you did not know?”

“Know…? Know what, exactly?”

“…Ah.”

She let out a soft exhale—a hollow, broken sound.

It was the voice of someone who had realized a mistake too late.

Alarmed by her reaction, I pressed on.

“Why? Is there a reason I need the Divine Fruit?”

Mother said nothing.

But her silence was an answer in itself.

I shook my head and spoke calmly.

“If that is your concern, then it is already done. I have already eaten the Divine Fruit. I obtained it—through you.”

Yes—once, long ago.

I had consumed the Divine Fruit and rebuilt my shattered soul.

The soul that should have been lost… was reawakened.

“So now—what I need to know is…” I paused, my voice firm.

“Why did I have to eat the Divine Fruit?”

And—

I narrowed my eyes as a name, a face, surfaced in my mind.

“…And why is Yarang here—wearing the face and wielding the power of the Divine Sword?”

The image of Yarang—a presence that felt identical to the Divine Sword itself—

It haunted me.

Mother held my gaze.

She wasn’t silent—she was measuring her words.

And soon, she spoke again—

“…I told you—I want my son to be happy.”

“Yes.”

“And to make you happy… there was something you had to do.”

“…Was it—” I held her eyes, my voice low—

“Was it eating the Divine Fruit?”

That only made it more confusing.

“…Why?” I asked, my voice dropping. “What happens if I eat it?”

I was told—if I consumed it, I would become the master.

“And you are saying… that is the path to my happiness?”

Becoming the master—bringing destruction to Zhongyuan by my own hand—

How… could that ever lead to happiness?

“I cannot accept that.”

If happiness meant becoming a calamity, reducing everything to ash—

Then what a cruel parody of happiness that would be.

“I would rather die—by my own hand.”

“…”

The moment those words left me, I felt my mother’s gaze.

I froze—immediately aware of my mistake.

That… was not something a child should say to a parent.

But then—

“Son.”

Mother spoke softly, her voice clear and steady.

“You cannot kill yourself.”

“…What?”

“You would not be able to,” she continued. “Have you never found that strange?”

“…”

Her words made my eyes widen.

I pulled back my sleeve, staring at my arm.

My skin prickled—goosebumps rising.

Cannot die by my own hand…

Something inside me… splintered.

‘What?’

My mind went blank.

I had endured so much suffering.

Through agony and loss, through fury and despair—

Through all of it, had I never—

‘Why?’

Why had I never attempted to end it myself?

It was not because I valued my life.

It was not because I clung desperately to survival.

Something about it felt… wrong.

No—

“…!”

Wuuuung—!

My hand sharpened, sheathed in killing intent, flames erupting around my fingers.

Without a second thought, I drove it toward my own throat.

The blade of energy—

Stopped.

“…!”

My hand halted mid-air—a hair’s breadth from piercing my neck.

It was not hesitation.

It was my will.

And yet—

Something—something unseen, something unknown—

Was preventing me.

An invisible force—

Denying me even death.