Chapter 129
Chu Hae-Yeon
So, the truth was, I actually didn’t know much about the divine artifact known as the spirit Chu.
That it was the greatest divine artifact of the Underworld, that it could transform into a human, and that it was a masterful weapon rivaling even the fiercest beasts.
Looking back, there was nothing personal about it.
‘Well, I never really asked, so that’s not strange.’
Someone once said:
“No warrior exists without a story.”
Whether a peerless master beyond comprehension or a third-rate fighter barely able to perform half their techniques, every warrior has a past.
Divine artifacts were no different.
Is there any divine artifact without a story?
That’s why I hadn’t pressed Chu Hae-Yeon for details.
“Then how do you know things even I don’t know?”
That wasn’t the only issue.
The unseen gaze that followed us constantly had been on my mind as well. Today, I felt I had to ask about it—about her story.
But from the very first question, Chu Hae-Yeon’s lips didn’t open easily.
It wasn’t that she refused to speak, but she seemed to hesitate, as if considering whether to tell me or remain silent.
Fortunately, her choice leaned toward the former.
‘My original master was not Taeryeok. And all of this is the story I received from that master.’
She stopped there. She clearly had no intention of revealing who that master was.
I was curious, but I didn’t press further. I already had a sense of it.
The scattered clues in my mind began to connect.
The first clue was the depth of Chu Hae-Yeon’s knowledge.
The death of the Underworld King and the Underworld Seal.
Even Sahnejo, the Underworld Messenger, didn’t know—these were secrets of the Underworld. Only a very select few could know such things.
The second clue was the title attributed to her:
‘The greatest divine artifact of the Underworld.’
Would Taeryeok have given her that title on a whim?
It was possible. But if not… then one thing was certain:
‘A title like “greatest” can’t be claimed by the artifact alone.’
For a divine artifact to become renowned, it must be exceptional, yes—but more importantly, its master’s fame or achievements mattered most.
The greatest divine artifact of the Underworld? Then the master must have been someone of equal or greater renown.
Yet a question arose.
If her previous master had been such a figure, why was the artifact now in the hands of a mere Underworld Messenger like Taeryeok?
Clearly, Taeryeok wasn’t that powerful. That meant her divine artifact had been passed on.
Under normal circumstances, such a thing would hardly occur.
But if the circumstances weren’t normal? For example, if that master had died…
At that moment, the final piece clicked into place.
‘When the Underworld King died, if what was left behind wasn’t just the Underworld Seal, but also the divine artifact he used…’
Then everything made sense.
I also began to understand why she had reacted so intensely to the colossal monument.
‘From Chu Hae-Yeon’s perspective, it was a trace left behind by the death of her old master.’
Her silence wasn’t just to protect a secret. It was her way of showing respect and mourning for a master she had no choice but to let go of.
‘So that’s why she reacted that way when we spoke of the Underworld King.’
At the time, I thought it was envy and admiration—but now I realized it was an expression of longing.
Of course, this could have been nothing more than my conjecture.
But one thing became clear:
‘As expected, asking about someone else’s past doesn’t suit my temperament.’
I decided not to push Chu Hae-Yeon further on that.
But for other matters, I wasn’t willing to yield.
“Alright. Even if we skip everything else, I need to know about those gazes.”
I asked, determined to learn why they had been observing us all this way. Chu Hae-Yeon didn’t seem to intend to hide this either.
Looking up at the sky, she said:
‘Since I said it’s not the Underworld, you probably already have an idea.’
She was right. I had suspected it for some time—I just needed confirmation. Chu Hae-Yeon provided that.
‘As you guessed, those observing us are indeed beings of the Heavenly Realm.’
The remaining question was why they were watching us.
“Hopefully they’re not spying for good intentions?”
She chuckled softly and nodded.
‘Just think of it as them disapproving of the Underworld’s actions.’
The key here was what exactly she meant by “the Underworld’s actions.” My guess was obvious.
“Because of my dealings with the Underworld King, I suppose.”
Of course, from the perspective of the higher-ups, trading with a trivial artifact from the mortal realm would be disapproved of.
This time, Chu Hae-Yeon didn’t answer further—but I didn’t need her to.
“One more question. Will they be satisfied with merely observing?”
I could tolerate the spying itself. Unlike her, I didn’t feel their gaze directly.
But if their observation could cause problems, I couldn’t just stand by.
‘Then, I’ll block their view completely if I have to.’
I thought I’d really do it if necessary, but Chu Hae-Yeon shook her head.
‘Right now, it’s something no one can know. They’re observing to judge that for themselves. How do you think they would react if they saw something that belongs in the Underworld here in the mortal realm?’
“They’d go mad.”
There are rules and order that must be upheld. One of them: things that belong in the Underworld cannot appear in the mortal realm.
And this artifact is connected to the Underworld King? Even if divine beings suddenly poured down from the sky, it wouldn’t be strange.
‘In that sense, it’s better not to use the Underworld Seal unless absolutely necessary.’
The worst news I’d heard today.
At least one small comfort:
‘Still, using it once a day should be fine.’
I tried to hide my disappointment, and Chu Hae-Yeon, noticing it, spoke.
“What about practice here?”
‘That shouldn’t be a problem.’
I nodded and smiled. That was enough.
‘I can keep it hidden and use it as a trump card when needed.’
I would still need to experiment and research what the Underworld Seal could do, but just looking at the latent potential, there was reason for hope.
And so, I couldn’t help but ask Chu Hae-Yeon one last thing:
“Do you know any combination formulas?”
After leaving King Jaho’s residence, I instinctively looked up.
The clear night sky, illuminated by the moon.
Seeing it, I wiped from my mind any thought of the Heavenly Realm or the Underworld. Worrying in advance would change nothing.
I sprang lightly onto the roof. On nights like this, with a bright moon, I would climb the roof every day and take out the Intangible Gauntlet.
Perhaps because of that…
Buzz.
Half a minute after reaching the roof, the gauntlet, which had always remained silent, began to hum softly for the first time.
I instinctively turned to it, then held my breath and watched.
The moonlight poured onto the gauntlet as if gathering it into a single point.
It wasn’t merely shining on it.
Like heavenly dew, silvery moonlight began to soak into the surface of the intangible gauntlet.
Its transparency, which had once blurred its outline, now gradually solidified, reflecting the moonlight.
Fwaah…!
The gauntlet began to emit a faint glow on its own. From inside the transparent glove, a milky-white light rose, shining brilliantly as if within a shard of ice.
The light grew clearer over time, enveloping the hand like a thin membrane.
And it didn’t stop there.
A faint crescent pattern slowly appeared on the wrist of the gauntlet.
Even in darkness, it illuminated the path—a delicate crescent moon.
As the pattern fully etched itself, all light and resonance suddenly stopped.
Entranced, I reached out and lifted the newly reborn Intangible Gauntlet.
The sensation at my fingertips was neither cold nor hot, but cool and soft like moonlight.
It felt as though it had fused with my flesh, pulsing with a new power.
It was a force resembling the moon.
I gave it an appropriate new name:
“Your name is now Moonlight (Wol-gwang).”
The gauntlet faintly glowed, as if approving the name.
Silent, like the Malice-Slaying Sword, I could not hear a voice—but I liked it that way.
“Take care of yourself from now on.”
I donned Moonlight.
The moment I wore it, it clung as if part of my skin, without any sense of wearing it.
I brought the Malice-Slaying Sword to Moonlight to test it.
Swish.
I tried cutting Moonlight several times, but failed. Not only did it not cut, it didn’t even scratch.
Even the strongest sword energy was repelled, so I realized I could use it as a trump card.
“My durability test passed. Now let’s see what abilities you possess.”
There were two ways to confirm its powers: wait for it to awaken on its own, or assist its realization. I chose the latter.
“Use your power freely.”
I drew the dormant divine energy from within me and focused it into my fingertips.
“Show me your true power.”
With a low whisper, the concentrated divine energy flowed like a beam into the crescent pattern.
Paah!
In an instant, the crescent flared as if alive.
The thin crescent line gradually swelled into a circle, shining like a small full moon in the night sky.
The light spread from the pattern across the wrist, back of the hand, and finger joints.
Moonlight was instantly covered with a complex, mysterious pattern of light.
Through that light, the essence of Moonlight flowed into my consciousness.
It was the power I had been seeking—the gauntlet’s true divine ability.
A power to hide everything beneath the moonlight.
Hidden Moon (Eunwol).
It was a night with two moons rising.
