Childhood Friend of the Zenith Novel MTL - Chapter 988

Chapter 988

I was destined to become a catastrophe.

I stood speechless at Noya’s declaration.

A long silence stretched between us. My mind went blank; no words came. Time slipped by as I struggled to form a response.

How long had it been? I finally gathered myself.

I couldn’t let this go. I had to know—no matter what.

“…What are you saying?”

I fought to keep my voice steady as I pressed Noya.

“Are you telling me I was meant to be Zhongyuan’s disaster?”

Zhongyuan’s disaster.

The first was the Blood Demon. The second was my mother.

And then—

‘The third…’

I lifted my gaze toward the sky. No, not the sky—toward the spot where a certain woman had vanished from sight.

‘…Wasn’t it Cheonma?’

Cheonma.

The monster who had drenched Zhongyuan in blood. The one who now lingered near me.

I hadn’t been sure if she was a disaster. But if a third was to come, I had always assumed it would be her.

It seemed inevitable.

Cheonma had brought slaughter, and I knew the death toll she had left in her wake.

Moreover—

‘Cheonma is tied to the Blood Demon.’

Before arriving in Mangye, I had discovered that she had conversed with the Blood Demon.

If she was connected to him…

‘If a third disaster were to emerge, I believed it would be Cheonma…’

But Noya’s words shattered that assumption.

No, it was more than a crack—

‘…They’re giving weight to another possibility.’

Grit—!

I clenched my jaw.

Something else.

Something that had been seeded deep within me, slowly taking root over time.

Contrary to my conviction that Cheonma was the third disaster,

there was another who fit the role.

Someone just as unnatural as Cheonma.

Just as she was linked to the first disaster, the Blood Demon—

this person was deeply bound to the second.

Someone who had defied time itself.

And in doing so, had become something beyond human.

That person was—

‘…Me.’

It was me.

‘You are the disaster.’

“……”

I would never forget what Yeon Ilcheon said to me in the archives of the Divine Dragon Pavilion.

‘Do you truly believe your regression was nothing but a miracle?’

Yeon Ilcheon, who had named me a disaster, posed that question.

Was my regression truly a miracle?

Back then, I had wanted to snap back—what else could it be?

Regression was nothing short of miraculous. That was what I had thought.

‘But now…’

Was it, really?

The deeper this unease grew, the harder it became to breathe.

The further I journeyed,

the more time passed,

the more I experienced,

the more this suspicion solidified.

And now, it had reached its conclusion.

“…Brat.”

“Yes.”

“From the look on your face, you already had an idea, didn’t you?”

“An idea? I even asked you about it once, remember?”

I had asked Noya before—what if I were the disaster?

I must have sensed the possibility even then.

I must have known it could be true.

And yet, hearing it voiced now made my insides burn.

“Noya… Are you saying I was destined to become Zhongyuan’s disaster?”

“It’s a strong possibility.”

“You say that, but you sound certain.”

“……”

I recognized the emotion in his eyes.

Regret. And… a heavy weight.

Noya’s gaze was filled with both.

“…Brat.”

“Why? Explain it to me. I need to understand.”

Struggling to control my emotions, I pushed Noya for answers.

How had he reached this conclusion?

When I asked, he sighed softly before speaking.

“This world does not make the same mistake twice. That is the heart of the problem.”

I listened intently. I wouldn’t miss a word.

“After the Blood Demon invaded Zhongyuan and was defeated, the world took action. Do you recall what it did?”

“Yes.”

It had lowered the ceiling of martial power, blocking practitioners from advancing further.

Because of that, Noya once told me that the strength of martial artists had declined sharply since the era of the Blood Demon’s war.

“I believed the world did that to ensure no one could stop the next disaster.”

“…And isn’t that exactly what happened?”

If he thought that, did it mean there was more to it?

Noya shook his head.

“I used to think so. But now, I have doubts. Too many things don’t add up.”

“Like what?”

“Lowering the power of martial artists… If someone had the ability to do that, and their goal was total annihilation, don’t you think that was far too merciful?”

His words made me frown. Merciful?

I didn’t understand, and I was about to ask again when—

“If complete destruction was the goal, then why send the Blood Demon or your mother at all?”

His next words left me speechless.

“If all they wanted was eradication, there was no need for such elaborate measures.”

According to Noya—

Rather than summoning powerful beings from another realm,

it would have been far simpler to wipe everything away. There was no reason for such complexity.

And on top of that—

“What’s even more puzzling is that they placed an opponent to counter each disaster.”

“…An opponent?”

Did he mean those who fought against the disasters?

Many came to mind, but it didn’t seem like Noya meant them.

“For the Blood Demon, there was Yeon Ilcheon.”

“……”

The name of the man once known as the greatest in the world,

a man who, like me, had experienced regression,

passed Noya’s lips.

“Because of him, the disaster was thwarted, and the world found peace again. Even if only temporarily. But, brat… Doesn’t it make you wonder why the world simply allowed that?”

Not only had Yeon Ilcheon regressed,

but he had also stopped the Blood Demon.

Noya was suggesting the world had permitted it.

“…You’re saying it knew, and did nothing?”

“There’s no other explanation. I don’t know the full scope of what this world can do.”

Noya slowly rose from where he sat.

“But one thing is clear—it continues to offer hope.”

As he spoke, he walked toward me, step by step.

“It wasn’t just Yeon Ilcheon. Consider your father.”

“…What?”

The sudden mention of my father caught me off guard.

Why bring him up now?

“Brat.”

“Yes.”

“What is your opinion of your father’s strength?”

“……”

My father’s power…

“…I’m not certain.”

I hesitated, but thought more deeply.

He must be powerful. Extremely so.

I hadn’t seen my father fight in earnest many times.

But from the glimpses I had caught, I could tell.

Even compared to my current self—

‘…I don’t believe I could defeat him.’

I still couldn’t forget that moment.

When I went to the Northern Sea to eliminate the White-Rank Beasts.

The sight of my father demonstrating the ultimate form of the Nine Flames Firewheel Art.

That image was seared into my memory.

And since reaching a breakthrough, I had tried endlessly to replicate it.

‘…I’ve never succeeded.’

Perhaps there was another requirement beyond achieving Daeseong.

No matter how many times I attempted it, I made no progress.

Just how powerful was my father?

Even now, I couldn’t imagine winning a fight against him.

From that perspective—

“Your father,” Noya said,

“is someone who shattered the limits imposed by the world.”

“…!”

My eyes widened.

He broke through the world’s restrictions?

“To be precise, it wasn’t that he broke them… more that he was born without them from the start.”

“…You mean…”

The constraints the world placed on Zhongyuan’s martial artists didn’t apply to my father?

Could that be—

‘The reason he’s so strong?’

Was that the source of my father’s power?

It felt like I had uncovered a profound truth, but—

“Ah, that’s a separate matter. Limits aside, his strength is uniquely his own.”

“…Oh, really?”

“Honestly, if his body were still in prime condition, I would have liked to spar with him. There’s nothing more thrilling than a battle you know you can’t win, right?”

“……”

A battle with no chance of victory.

That meant Noya viewed my father as his equal—

or perhaps even superior.

The real question was—

“How does this relate to our discussion?”

His strength was undeniable, but what did it have to do with anything?

That was what I needed to understand.

At my question, Noya took a slow breath, as he had before, and continued.

“The abnormality of their power… their circumstances… I don’t believe the strength of Yeon Ilcheon or your father was mere chance.”

It wasn’t a miracle.

The words Yeon Ilcheon had once spoken to me twisted in my gut.

“This is intention.”

“…Intention?”

“Yes. The Blood Demon had Yeon Ilcheon to oppose him. Your mother had your father. That was the world’s design.”

“Are you saying…?”

“When a disaster emerges, a corresponding opponent appears as well. That is what I perceive as the world’s intention.”

An adversary always arose to meet a disaster.

That was what Noya meant.

And by that logic—

“…You’re saying Yeon Ilcheon and my father were those adversaries?”

That seemed to be the implication, but the idea of a destined opponent felt strange.

‘A person whose purpose is to halt a disaster?’

Is that what Yeon Ilcheon and my father had been?

Even as I found it unsettling—

‘…Is that why the disasters were stopped?’

Looking at the outcome, it appeared true.

They had been prevented, after all.

However—

“That was my initial belief, but now, I no longer think your mother or father were a disaster or an adversary.”

Noya suddenly retracted his own words.

“That’s why I am uncertain.”

“About what…?”

“The world does not repeat errors. If it had, setting aside the need for an adversary—why would it have sent your mother to enact its will?”

Noya’s eyes turned to me.

“That’s why I think—there must be a deeper purpose behind all this.”

As our eyes met, I almost stepped back involuntarily.

“Could it be that the world… did not anticipate the disasters failing? Or rather—did it know and allow them to be sent anyway?”

“……!”

“If it allowed them, then why? Is it possible your mother did not come to Zhongyuan as a disaster meant to destroy it?”

My mother didn’t come to Zhongyuan as a destroyer?

“Isn’t that strange? Even if Mangye had two rulers, why would your mother need to act directly? If she had truly become a disaster and laid waste to Zhongyuan, she would have become its new ruler.”

A disaster, ultimately, meant that after all life was erased, a new ruler would rise from the emptiness.

If my mother already ruled Mangye, why would she need Zhongyuan?

It was peculiar.

I had wondered about it before, too.

“Therefore,”

Noya continued, picking up that thread of doubt.

“Perhaps she did not come here as a disaster.”

At the same time, his gaze sharpened as he looked at me.

“Maybe it was never about a disaster and an adversary.

Perhaps Mangye came here to create the next disaster.”

Those narrowed eyes—

his words—

pierced straight through my heart.

“…And the disaster that was created… is me?”

The fact that my mother left Mangye for Zhongyuan.

That she met my father and gave birth to me.

That I, their child, was growing further from human with each passing day.

Was all of this the world’s design?

And above all—

‘Because I was meant to be Zhongyuan’s disaster?’

I clenched my fists. My heart hammered, my breath grew ragged.

Everything I had been suppressing began to tremble.

“…Brat.”

“Wait… just wait.”

I needed to calm down.

But it wasn’t easy.

The truths I never wanted to face rose up, choking me.

As if warning me not to deny them any longer.

Feeling that pressure tighten, I bit my lip.

“But…”

Just then, Noya spoke again, as if he had more to say.

“But when I saw how distorted your soul had become, it made me reconsider.”

Distorted…?

No—

He wasn’t finished.

“Your soul drifted without anchor, unable to find rest—that was clearly the work of an outside force. And the only one who could have done such a thing… is your mother. She must have known what was happening.”

“……”

I slowly raised my head.

“The Divine Tree and the god you witnessed—those were her doing as well.

But why would she deliberately fragment your soul, only to reassemble it later?”

At those words—

ironically—

I felt my breathing begin to steady.

As if…

as if there was still an answer waiting to be found.

********

As the conversation continued—

Deep within Mount Hua, beneath the Divine Tree, lay a vast cavern.

Into that cavern, a figure slowly descended.

Step.

With calm, measured footsteps, the woman known to Gu Yangcheon as Cheonma entered.

In the darkness, only her violet eyes were visible, glowing faintly as she moved.

She walked briefly before coming to a halt.

Before her was an abyss of pure shadow—dense, suffocating.

Yet, as if she could see something within, she spoke softly.

“Hello.”

Her quiet greeting echoed through the cave, and only then did something stir in response.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr—

A low, rumbling growl emerged from the depths.

Simultaneously, a pair of crimson lights flickered in the blackness.

“Nice to see you.”

Cheonma lifted a hand and waved casually toward the lights.

But there was something unusual about her.

Her typical detachment, the empty expression she usually wore—

It was gone.

Instead—

“I have a feeling we have much to discuss.”

A captivating smile curved her lips.