“How did you know?”
At the Shadow King’s question, Gu Cheolwoon met his gaze. His eyes were like a bottomless abyss, devoid of light or reflection.
Gu Cheolwoon stared silently into those eyes before he spoke.
“It was impossible not to know.”
The Poison King’s letter, containing news of his son’s predicament, had reached the Gu family.
It was unthinkable that the Shadow King hadn’t been involved in its delivery.
When he thought about it, the reasoning was straightforward.
The distance between Sichuan and Shanxi was by no means short.
For someone like Gu Cheolwoon, it might be possible to bridge the gap in a short time, but under normal circumstances, it would have been impossible.
And yet—
“The letter arrived only a few days after the incident.”
The speed of the letter’s delivery was suspicious.
Even with the fastest messengers, it should have been impossible to make it in time.
That left the question of someone’s interference, and Gu Cheolwoon had judged it to be the Shadow King.
But there was one issue:
“I don’t understand.”
The Shadow King looked at Gu Cheolwoon as he asked his question.
“You may have had suspicions, but you have no definitive proof that I was involved.”
There was no direct evidence tying the Shadow King to the matter.
The speed of the letter’s arrival suggested interference, sure, but there was nothing to definitively link it to him.
When asked about this, Gu Cheolwoon replied calmly.
“Because you are here, elder.”
At those words, the Shadow King’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
“That alone was reason enough for me to be certain.”
“Hmm.”
So that was it.
The Shadow King now understood why Gu Cheolwoon had reached this conclusion.
‘He noticed, then.’
When the Shadow King had set out from Hanan to Sichuan, he had disguised himself and blended into the group.
Gu Cheolwoon had detected his presence even then.
And yet, he hadn’t let it show.
The Shadow King now regarded Gu Cheolwoon with newfound interest.
“Then why didn’t you say anything at the time?”
“There was no reason to.”
The Shadow King’s involvement in his son’s group could have raised countless problems.
Yet Gu Cheolwoon claimed it was meaningless to bring it up.
Hearing this, the Shadow King’s lips curled slightly upward.
“And what if I had harmed your son?”
“Were you planning to, elder?”
At Gu Cheolwoon’s response, the Shadow King chuckled.
In truth, he had done something akin to harm—killing Gu Yangcheon hundreds of times in a simulated space through his abilities.
But if asked whether he intended to do so of his own will—
“That would depend on your son’s actions.”
There was no reason to act preemptively.
While he wouldn’t deny the possibility entirely, he had no immediate plans to harm Gu Yangcheon.
“That’s good to hear.”
“Why? Do you believe your son incapable of provoking me?”
Was this faith in his son?
“It’s not that. My son certainly has his share of thorns.”
Gu Yangcheon undoubtedly had a sharp edge to him, and Gu Cheolwoon was aware that his own actions had contributed to those thorns.
“Then why?”
“Even if he were to act that way, I believe he would have his reasons.”
He didn’t think Gu Yangcheon wouldn’t do such a thing. But if he did, there would be a valid reason for it.
That was the kind of trust Gu Cheolwoon had in his son.
The Shadow King couldn’t comprehend this.
“How is that different from faith in your child?”
“It’s less faith and more atonement.”
It wasn’t trust born of belief but trust born of necessity—a form of penance.
If Gu Cheolwoon had to describe it, he would call it atonement for what he had turned his son into.
The Shadow King asked in response,
“And if that boy does something to provoke me and I kill him, what then?”
Even if Gu Yangcheon had a reason for his actions, there was no obligation for the Shadow King to understand or admire his courage.
Gu Cheolwoon, more than anyone, understood this. Yet he still spoke as he did.
When the Shadow King inquired about this, Gu Cheolwoon looked him in the eye and said,
“I hope you won’t.”
Gu Cheolwoon hoped the Shadow King wouldn’t harm his son.
Not just for his son’s sake, but—
“For your sake as well, elder.”
Voom—
At those words, the Shadow King’s body subtly vibrated.
It was a refined, controlled killing intent—not the crude or rough aura of a martial artist, but the deadly precision of an assassin.
It was calm and silent.
Compressed to such an extent that the closer one was, the more suffocating it felt. This was the aura emanating from the Shadow King.
“You’ve grown bold, to the point of threatening me.”
“For your sake as well” carried a clear implication:
If the Shadow King touched his son, Gu Cheolwoon would not stand idly by.
The killing intent thickened as time passed.
In this moment, the tension reached a breaking point.
Even as the Shadow King’s aura grew heavier, Gu Cheolwoon simply observed him in silence.
Then—
“Hm.”
The Shadow King abruptly withdrew his killing intent, dispelling the oppressive atmosphere.
“Don’t worry. I, too, have hopes for that boy.”
He had tested the waters by releasing his aura, but Gu Cheolwoon hadn’t flinched.
It seemed he had recognized it as a ploy.
In truth, the Shadow King had no intention of harming Gu Yangcheon.
On the contrary, the boy needed to survive—not for Gu Yangcheon’s sake, but for the Shadow King’s own.
‘The answer to breaking this curse.’
The curse that bound the Shadow King.
More specifically, the key to lifting the curse tied to his bloodline. Gu Yangcheon held that answer.
There was no denying it.
Even now, as he watched Gu Yangcheon, the Shadow King could feel his heart pounding.
‘It’s far stronger than when I first saw him.’
Resonance.
When he first encountered Gu Yangcheon, he had felt the faint stench of the curse.
Back then, it had been barely noticeable. But now, for some reason, it was overwhelmingly clear.
What had changed?
‘The transformation of his body. Is that the key?’
Although outwardly Gu Yangcheon didn’t seem significantly different, something about him had undeniably changed.
The Shadow King could see it.
His eyes were unlike others.
Thump.
His heart raced. Just watching the boy caused it to stir.
At first, he thought it was killing intent. Later, he assumed it was anger.
But now, as the feeling grew stronger, he could no longer deny it.
“I’m going to die at this rate… Please, elder, I’m serious this time! Ow! My head…!” “You seem lively enough to keep talking. That means you can take more. Get up.” “...”
Reluctantly, he had to admit it.
The feeling he had while watching Gu Yangcheon—
It was undoubtedly awe.