"I know," he said.
His answer took my breath away, though I had sowhat expected it. If my mother was alive, he would be the one person who knew her whereabouts.
Where else could she be, if not with him? I t his eyes and asked,
"Where is she? Where is Mother?"
I needed to know, and not just out of a simple desire to see her. I was beginning to understand that my mother was connected to everything that had happened to . From the beast within to the so-called Second Calamity, to the na she bore as Master of the Ten Thousand Worlds.
But most importantly, there was the Divine Sword.
The voice that spoke to just before I released it—that was undoubtedly my mother’s. How could I forget? It haunted , a voice that refused to fade.
She had told to take the Divine Sword within , and so I did. I absorbed its essence.
Perhaps, she even knew a way for to see it again. That’s why, to understand the truth behind all of this, I had to find her.
"If you know, please tell ."
He looked at without any reaction, which frustrated . But as I looked more closely, I noticed sothing in his gaze.
‘He’s not unreactive.’
There was a faint tremor in his eyes.
I held my breath, waiting for his response. After a brief silence, he finally spoke.
"Why do you want to know?"
I couldn’t help but frown, standing before my father. Why did I want to know?
"Is it strange for a son to want to know where his mother is?"
"…"
"It’s not just curiosity. I need to know now, even if it’s too late."
I had never raised my voice to him like this. Not since my regression, and not often in my past life, either.
But this was different. Even as I approached death, my heart nearly bursting, I hadn’t known. If my mother was alive and if she had sothing to do with my current life, I deserved to know. Even if not, I needed to know the truth.
"If you know, then you can tell ."
Yet he remained unmoved. His silence was maddening.
"Patriarch…."
"What do you plan to do if you find out where she is?"
The question hit , and I paused for a mont before answering.
"I’ll go to her."
"To where your mother is?"
"Yes."
I didn’t lie. It was the reason for my question, and he likely already suspected it.
"…It’s not a place you can go simply because you want to."
"Why? Because it’s the Demonic Realm?"
"…"
"If it’s not that, is it because I need to be the Young Lord first? Or…"
For the first ti, I could clearly see his eyes—sharp, almost piercing.
"Is it because she’s a calamity?"
"…!"
The mont I spoke those words—
Rumble.
The heat around him intensified, nearly forcing back, but I stood my ground. This ti, I wouldn’t retreat.
In the heat radiating from him, his gaze grew sharper.
Was he scowling? Or was he angry?
I wasn’t used to seeing such expressions on him, so I couldn’t tell.
"How do you know that?"
His reaction confird it. He knew she was a calamity, knew who she was.
"I heard—"
Rumble.
Just as I began to speak, a heavy presence emanated from him, making my chest feel like it was sinking.
"Who told you? Who dared to speak of this?"
‘…Damn.’
His anger flared, the heat rising.
Where was this coming from? Was he angry because I heard about it?
"Isn’t the reason I heard it less important?"
"No, it’s important. So tell ."
His gaze left no room for refusal. I had no choice but to answer.
"The one called the World Tree told ."
His eyes trembled at that.
The World Tree had told about the day he and my mother visited. That ant he knew about the World Tree.
Seeing his reaction, I knew my words struck a nerve.
"How…how did you learn that? You’ve…been there?"
He gripped my shoulder tightly.
"If you an the World Tree’s domain, yes."
The false world where the exiled World Tree resided. I spoke, watching as his expression contorted.
Why did he look like that? Just as I wondered, he spoke.
"Is that where you crossed the wall?"
He was asking if the reason I reached the Fla Boundary so young was because of the Demonic Realm.
"There was so influence, yes."
It helped. The ti I spent there shortened my path to the Fla Boundary.
But the more I spoke, the darker his expression grew.
"That’s not a place you should just go. How did you manage to get there?"
"One thing led to another."
"How long were you there?"
He seed aware that ti there flowed differently than here.
I thought back.
How long had it been?
I hadn’t counted every day. I rembered counting up to three or four years, but after that, I stopped bothering.
"Not too long."
He didn’t look like he believed . Why did he look so troubled?
‘It would be the sa once you return anyway.’
Even in that false world, hunger and thirst persisted. I simply killed beasts when I needed food, and quenched my thirst with blood when water was scarce.
As long as I didn’t die, it was fine.
I reached the Fla Boundary and carried the insights I gained back to this world. What was the problem?
I couldn’t understand his reaction.
"She said you and Mother had visited there together."
"Did she say that?"
The way he referred to the World Tree—she—felt strange.
"Yes."
"Then she spoke out of turn."
The malice in his voice made flinch.
Despite being a forr ruler of the world, he spoke as if it was nothing to threaten the World Tree.
"Is it because my mother was indeed a calamity that you won’t tell ?"
"And if she was, what would you do?"
"It wouldn’t change anything. I need to know."
His gaze bored into . For a mont, I thought he might finally answer.
"I forbid it."
"…!"
His words made clench my teeth.
Even after all this, he was refusing ?
"Why… I think I’ve earned the right to know."
I wondered if there was so restriction on him, but that didn’t seem likely. I had a feeling, and my instincts rarely failed.
I was about to lose my composure when he suddenly said,
"How much regret have you faced in your life?"
"Regret?"
The question caught off guard.
Regret?
How much regret?
"A lot," I replied with a bitter laugh.
What did it matter? My life was defined by regret. I’d had more than enough, and I’d probably have even more in the future.
What was he getting at?
"As for , I’ve lived a life with little regret."
A surprising claim. A life without regret seed enviable.
Whether he knew my thoughts or not, he continued.
"I lived without clinging to regret. I thought it was aningless to dwell on the past. But do you know what my remaining regrets are?"
Regrets, from him?
"I have no idea."
I answered cautiously, and he replied as if he’d been waiting.
"They are you and your mother."
"…!"
His words were like daggers, piercing my chest. I hadn’t expected that.
How could he say that to my face?
"You an to tell …!"
Just as I was about to lash out,
"That day, I should never have taken you to your mother."
I felt as if my breath had been cut off.
The day he spoke of—that was the day she disappeared into the Demonic Realm.
"That…"
"I shouldn’t have let her go, nor should I have brought you before her. That is my regret."
As I began to reply, a strange feeling overca .
"…What do you an, by listening to her?"
So it wasn’t his decision alone?
"It was her wish to see you one last ti, and I shouldn’t have granted it."
His face was obscured by shadows, cast by the moonlight.
If this was true,
"Why are you telling this now?"
It was far too late.
I had spent my life blaming this cursed family and my father’s choices for my mother’s fate. I feared him for showing her final monts.
As if I was destined to bear this burden and follow that path.
But now, he was telling that wasn’t true?
"…It’s too late."
Too late for any of this to matter. Even if it was true, I had co too far to turn back.
"Why didn’t you tell sooner? If nothing else, this one thing."
"Do you think it would have changed anything?"
I couldn’t bring myself to say yes. I knew now that it wouldn’t have.
Even so—
"Did you want to crumble under the weight of my resentnt toward you?"
That had been my life before. I fell apart, sank into filth. Could he not have known that I would collapse so completely?
I spoke with a mix of emotions, and he breathed deeply in response.
"No matter who a person is, when faced with unbearable hardships—"
He exhaled, his breath heavy.
"They will look for soone to bla."
His words unsettled , shaking my mind.
"If you need soone to resent, isn’t it better to resent an incompetent father than an untouchable world?"
It hurt. More than I wanted to admit.
This wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
I just needed to know where she was. I didn’t need to know any of this.
"…It’s contradictory."
"I know."
"Even if you say that you did it for , you still let fall apart."
It was my own weakness that led to fall, but he had done nothing to lift back up.
"And you didn’t just expect to resent you for that, did you?"
My emotions swirled, overwhelming .
Where had these feelings been hiding? I thought I had moved past them, thought I was living just fine without them.
And I wondered—
If he had tried to catch as I fell, would I have turned out differently?
It was a moot point.
If it would have made a difference, I didn’t want to know.
Because then,
"Yes."
I hoped he wouldn’t look at with those eyes.
"That, too, is my regret."
I hoped he’d look at as he always did, with those cold, indifferent eyes.
"It was my sin not to reach out, even knowing better."
I hoped he wouldn’t look at with such a bitter expression.
"I’m sorry."
"…"
"Which is why I can’t let you go to her. One regret is enough."
I hadn’t expected an apology, and that broke sothing deep within .
If only he had made excuses, told he was too busy to care. But he hadn’t.
So, I covered my face with trembling hands. Not because I was crying.
But because I couldn’t look at him.
It would have been easier if he hadn’t apologized.
How did things end up like this?
‘…Ah.’
I should never have received such an apology from him.
Even if I feared and resented him, he should never have apologized to .
Maybe I expected this because he was my father?
No.
That wasn’t it. It was sothing more fundantal.
At the very least, just this once—
He shouldn’t have apologized to the son who had killed him.
Like that winter night when he sent my mother away, mories I couldn’t forget ca flooding back.
Well done.
His praise for reaching the Fla Boundary and the last words he spoke to overlapped.
Yes, his last words.
After my mother’s departure, he was the only one to injure Cheonma.
Shortly after, he passed away.
The world assud Cheonma had killed him.
But that wasn’t true.
It wasn’t Cheonma who killed him.
It was .
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