CFZ

Flames flared.

From the tips of Gu Cheolwoon’s feet, heat began to spread. Gradually, the energy took shape and transformed into flames.
The fire, which started scorching the floor, soon turned into shimmering waves, burning fiercely as if reflecting its master’s emotions.
How could he not be angry? He wanted to burn everything down right that moment.

Yet, he held it back.
To describe Gu Cheolwoon’s life—it was a life of endless restraint and contemplation.
It was the destiny of every bloodline born into the Gu family, the burden of their clan’s legacy.

And among them, Gu Cheolwoon’s life was especially so.
The Gu family was a lineage born to atone for their ancestors and inherit their sins.
In all of the family’s history, there had never been anyone like Gu Cheolwoon.

Everything about him was exceptional.
It was what his father often said when he was still a father.
That there had never been anyone like him in the Gu family’s history.

And Gu Cheolwoon proved those words true.
Even among the Gu bloodline, known for their relatively small builds, he stood out with his unusually large frame.
When he first began practicing Gu Flame Wheel Technique, he entered the realm of Intent almost immediately.

It took him less than a year to reach the Five Star level, a process that typically required five years on average.
He grew stronger simply by breathing and sleeping.
It was a phrase often said in jest, yet it applied to him.

A genius bestowed by the heavens.
A monster who could perhaps rival Yeon Ilcheon, the man who supposedly stopped the Blood Disaster.
That was Gu Cheolwoon in the Gu family.
To remain confined in Shanxi—a place where the Gu family had faded into obscurity—was a waste.

Thus, his father, the head of the family, made a decision.
For the first time in history, a direct descendant of the Gu family was sent out into the world.
An unprecedented act.

While a head or a successor could leave upon inheriting their position, never before had someone been sent out entirely like this.
How could his father make such a choice?
Gu Cheolwoon never understood. He wanted to ask, but it was too late now.

The head of the family back then was no longer present.
Even if he called him father or the previous head, that man no longer existed.
He had taken on the family’s burdens—the sins that the Gu family’s head must bear.

One day, Gu Cheolwoon would have to walk that same path.
So, at the age of nineteen, Gu Cheolwoon stepped out into the world. He had no ambitions of his own.
He simply accepted his father’s wish to experience the world and return.

And sometimes, Gu Cheolwoon wonders.
Did those experiences truly help?
Seeing things he should not have seen, enduring things he need not have endured—did they truly lead to the outcome his father desired?

The answer that came to mind was no.
The world had not changed at all.
If anything, it had worsened. Not a single thing had improved.

Only he had changed.
But was that the right outcome?
No. He could not even say that.

From the start, it was impossible to judge right and wrong.
Even he could not determine what was right.
All of life was like that.

Why must one live so relentlessly?
What meaning existed in beliefs without purpose?
He did not know, and he had no desire to find out.

He thought, perhaps, it was fine to simply live—calmly and silently—even without a grand purpose.
That was the mindset he held.
Until one day, he met a woman.

— “Nice to meet you.”
Cracks formed in his stillness.
Something began to fill the emptiness inside him.

It did not take him long to realize that it was emotion.
And with it came resolve.
It was nothing grand. At first, it was simply following her words.

— “Don’t do that.”
Before doing something, he began to think twice.
And, if possible, he held himself back.

— “Make sure you eat. Be careful—it’s cold.”
— “Alright.”
— “And stop hitting people.”

— “Alright.”
The little things filled him in ways he had never expected.
They became the pillars that allowed him to endure even in the most desperate moments.

He no longer thought about right and wrong.
By the time he realized it, there was only one thing that mattered to him.
It was not something grand enough to call a belief.

It was simply a wish.
A wish to protect someone.
A vow to keep that one person safe, no matter the storm.

At that time, it was enough for Gu Cheolwoon.
No, even now, it might still be enough.
The only difference was that it was no longer just her.

He had endured countless storms.
Without worrying about right and wrong, he had lived with only one focus.
Living for someone else was not so bad.

He was willing to give anything.
And so.
— “…Please.”

At the end of all the time he had struggled to create, he had to let her go with his own hands.
— “Take care of the children.”
He repeated her final words.

How cruel they were.
How could he, without her, do as she asked?
He swallowed the words he could not bring himself to say aloud.

Because without her, he was nothing.
Watching his children crumble and break, unable to do anything, he realized then—
That he had never truly lived as a father.

He had always been capable of doing anything if he set his mind to it.
But being a father was different.
His daughters began to fear him.

His son looked at him with resentment and dread.
And he had no idea what to do.
The void left behind was enough to shatter everything.

So he turned away.
Not because it was his only choice, but because he was a coward.
He shut his eyes to what he saw.

He closed his ears to what he heard.
Even when he could do something, he chose not to.
Would it not be easier to grow numb?

To let himself be swept away, diluted, and broken?
That thought crossed his mind.
Years passed, though he had lost count.

He slowly sank. Nothing mattered anymore.
And then.
— “…Do I really have to do this?”

A voice broke through.
— “Yes, I do. I’ll do it.”
His dull gaze sharpened, if only slightly.

Something felt different.
— “But do I really have to…?”
— “…”

— “Fine. I’ll go.”
It was his son.
Seeing him flinch and mutter as he left, Gu Cheolwoon tilted his head.

What was this?
Something was different.
Yet he could not pinpoint what it was.

On the surface, his son seemed the same.
Broken, just like him.
And knowing that, Gu Cheolwoon had done nothing.

He had been shackled by fear.
By the time he realized it, it had already been too late.
Or so he thought.

— “Young Master defeated Blade Kiing in a duel.”
Surprisingly, something had changed.
— “Blade Kiing?”

— “Yes. And he won.”
— “…”
His child was changing.

And it did not take long to realize it.
— “Young Master led in Shanxi…”
— “Young Master stood out at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering…”

— “Young Master prevailed at Shinryong Pavilion…”
It happened in the blink of an eye.
While he remained frozen, his son prepared to stand tall.

Despite his wounds and resentment, the boy endured.
And Gu Cheolwoon finally asked himself—
What had he been doing all this time?

— “Take care of the children.”
The voice echoed again.
He had thought losing her left him with nothing.

But now he saw differently.
There was so much he had to protect.
Yet for ten years, he had done nothing.

While his son changed, he had stayed still.
— “Father.”
One day, his son called him that.

A word he thought he would never hear.
He was far too lacking to be called a father. Yet, those words had burrowed deep into him.
It was the moment he truly felt the weight of what he had to protect.

— "Please."
The words that echoed in his mind every day were always the same, yet felt different each time.
What did it mean to be a father?

He did not know. He had never properly experienced it himself.
Was it acceptable to realize it only now, when it was far too late?
The °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° thought crossed his mind, but it was no time for hesitation.

It was already too late to hesitate.
What point was there in wavering when he could delay no further?
“Speak.”

If there was something he could do, then he had to do it.
He had failed to do so before. Moving forward, he would have to succeed.
Crunch.

“Urgh!”
The old man’s neck, fragile enough to snap at any moment, was clenched tightly in his grip.
And Gu Cheolwoon spoke.

“If you’re about to give me an excuse, forget it. Do you think I don’t know this was your intention all along?”
He barely held himself back from burning everything to the ground.
This habit of restraint before acting—he had formed it decades ago.

He loosened his grip slightly.
Huff… huff.
He needed to hear an answer.

“Speak.”
Gu Cheolwoon’s decision would depend on that answer.
Would he erase the Martial Alliance from existence—or hold back?

As he considered this, his eyes remained fixed on Muk Yeon.
“…Gu Daeju.”
Muk Yeon addressed him, causing Gu Cheolwoon’s brow to twitch.

“Use the proper title. Do I still look like the clan head to you?”
“…I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology. I told you to explain yourself.”

Gu Cheolwoon’s sharp tone made Muk Yeon hesitate.
He briefly contemplated how to begin before speaking.
“…Young Master Gu was needed by the Martial Alliance. He knew this, and that’s why he chose it.”

“So now you’re trying to excuse it as my son’s choice?”
“Young Master Gu had something he wanted from the Alliance, and the Alliance had expectations for him as well. It was a simple transaction—”
“I see.”

Muk Yeon’s explanation was cut off as Gu Cheolwoon nodded.
“You’re just as shameless as ever, shifting the blame.”
Muk Yeon’s eyes widened at those words.

He realized Gu Cheolwoon had already made his decision.
“You’re unnecessary. You were back then, and you are now.”
Whoosh.

A spark ignited.
Gu Cheolwoon’s body was enveloped in flames. He had made his choice.
Today, he would erase the Martial Alliance from existence.

Whatever came of it, he would bear the consequences.
As an unworthy father, it was the least he could do.
And—

‘The family’s burden ends with me.’
The Gu family’s curse and shackles—he would sever them all.
He would not pass down that meaningless atonement to his son.

With that resolve, Gu Cheolwoon unleashed his energy.
The swordmaster moved.
His broken blade began to glow with aura.

But Gu Cheolwoon moved first.
The flames at his fingertips surged.
Before

the swordmaster could even swing, Gu Cheolwoon’s hand had already reached for his face.
And then—
Whooosh—!!

A sudden gust of wind tore between Gu Cheolwoon and the swordmaster, forcing them apart.
“…!”
Gu Cheolwoon withdrew his hand, frowning as he widened the distance.

There was no need to dodge.
Normally, he would have ignored the gust and torn the swordmaster’s head off without hesitation.
But he had stepped back.

The reason?
Because of who the wind belonged to.
The golden light swirling in that wind resembled moonlight.

   *****************
   
Ssshhhk.
Wiping his hands with a cloth, he stepped outside.

His hands were stained with blood, so he had to clean them off—even if just roughly.
“Damn it.”
He clicked his tongue.

It wasn’t because he felt uneasy about killing people. That no longer bothered him.
“The information’s useless.”
Despite the number of bodies he had left behind, he hadn’t gained much intel.

That was what frustrated him.
He had killed so many, yet none had revealed anything worthwhile before they died.
To be precise, it wasn’t that they didn’t speak—it was that they didn’t know.

It seemed these men knew nothing.
Why were they doing this?
What was their connection to the Celestial Stream Sect?

No matter how many times he asked, the answer remained the same—they didn’t know.
Were they mere underlings? Was their intelligence network this poor?
He had even driven some to the brink of demonification to force answers, but the results were no different.

Ah—there was one thing.
One thing he managed to learn.
They were part of an organization.

Not that it was particularly impressive—just its name.
He’d have to investigate further to find out more.
But for now, the only thing he knew was the name:

“Ilcheon Cult.”
It was an organization he had never heard of—even in his past life.