Chapter 1748 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect
Chapter
1748. You can think of it as venting my anger (3) ❀ ❀ ❀
At that moment.
“A-Amitabha...”
A groan like a sigh escaped Hye
Yeon’s lips.
‘What is that?’
Seeing the thin tendrils
protruding from the wounds of the blood cultist and flailing about was
unbelievable even as he witnessed it.
A beast? No, it felt closer to
an insect.
But how could something like
that come out of a human body?
‘No, more than that...’
The place where the tendrils
were emerging was where his fist had struck. The blackened dead flesh was
regaining its color with the writhing of those worm-like tendrils.
What kind of sorcery is this?
No matter how vast the world is
and how many bizarre and grotesque sorceries exist beyond his knowledge, this
far surpassed any martial arts common sense he knew.
“Amitabha. Amitabha!”
He chanted the Buddha’s name
several times to steady his shaking heart.
“Keuh...”
In the meantime, the
problematic blood cultist slowly wiped the blood trickling down from his lips
and approached Hye Yeon. Hye Yeon unknowingly took a step back.
“Kahahaahaa!”
The low groan of the blood
cultist turned into a wild scream. With bloodthirsty energy, the blood cultist
charged.
Hye Yeon bit his lips tightly.
❀ ❀ ❀
“What, what is that?”
The situation was not much
different elsewhere.
Jo Geol’s eyes were filled with
shock. He had cut off an arm, but it was reattaching itself.
“Damn it...”
Jo Geol clamped his mouth shut.
The sight of tendrils
reattaching the arm was so grotesque that even the usually brave Jo Geol let
out a groan. A visceral revulsion welled up inside him.
‘The cut-off parts are
reattaching?’
It wasn’t just the arm. From
the deeply slashed side, those grotesque tendrils were wriggling. Every time he
cut, they reattached, so how was he supposed to deal with such foes?
“No...”
“Stay calm.”
At that moment, Yoo Iseol’s
cool voice pierced his ears.
“Sago, but...”
“Sorcery is vast and boundless.
There’s so much we don’t know.”
He couldn’t help but agree with
that. He had never seen nor heard of such a thing in his life.
“But it’s simple. The solution.”
“What?”
Yoo Iseol raised his straight
sword.
“No one can continue using
sorcery if their head is severed.”
“...Wouldn’t they guard their
necks, if they’re not fools?”
“Restrain their limbs. You do
that. I’ll sever the head.”
Jo Geol unknowingly shook his
head. Just listening to her, one could misunderstand and think they were from
the evil sect.
“...I don’t know if I’m foolish
or if Sago is too smart.”
Jo Geol let out a light
chuckle.
Honestly, the method didn’t
matter. It was remarkable that she wasn’t shaken at all in the face of such a
sight. At times like this, Yoo Iseol was more reliable than anyone else in
Mount Hua.
“That’s because we’re
together... What about those who went alone? It could be dangerous.”
“Obviously.”
Jo Geol nodded in agreement
again.
Yes, what other way was there?
They had to clean up this place as quickly as possible and go support the
others.
“Then let’s start.”
“Go.”
“Alright!”
Jo Geol pushed off the ground
with all his strength and rushed forward.
❀ ❀ ❀
Sweat trickled down Yoon Jong’s
jaw.
‘The neck was severed.’
But it was getting up. The
severed neck was reattaching.
What should he call this?
Healing? Or regeneration?
Whatever it was, it shouldn’t
happen to humans. That much was certain.
Of course, martial arts itself
strengthens the human body and grants powers beyond ordinary humans. From a
common person’s perspective, whether it’s someone reattaching severed limbs or
someone collapsing a mountain with a single sword strike, it’s hard to say
which is more bizarre.
But even knowing this, Yoon
Jong felt a surge of fear. Perhaps it was because the principles he had known
were collapsing. People instinctively fear what they don’t understand.
Yoon Jong tried to suppress his
fear. But before he could fully calm himself, the enemies moved first.
“Looks like you’re scared,” a
blood cultist said, approaching smugly with blood dripping from his mouth. “How
foolish. You should be grateful to witness such a miracle, yet you feel fear
instead.”
Yoon Jong’s senses briefly
focused on the back. The blood cultist who had risen like a puppet had not yet
regained his wits. The one standing behind him had nearly lost his head. It
seemed the recovery speed varied depending on the severity of the injuries.
But the problem was that he
couldn’t completely ignore the ones in the back. He couldn’t accurately predict
when they would recover.
‘Damn it.’
Yoon Jong suddenly felt the
absence of Jo Geol acutely. If only that guy were here, they wouldn’t be
surrounded like this...
“Waiting for reinforcements?
Doesn’t seem like anyone’s coming,” the blood cultist taunted.
“......”
“Where’s that initial bravado?
This is why people like you disgust me. So arrogant when you’re in a group, but
so pitiful when alone.”
Yoon Jong’s tightly closed lips
pressed harder.
It was an obvious provocation.
He wouldn’t fall for it. But those words still stung deeply.
‘I’m not scared.’
If it were Yoo Iseol, she would
have attacked again without hesitation. Tang Soso would have analyzed the
situation calmly. Cheong Myeong? That guy wouldn’t have allowed this situation
to arise in the first place.
But what did Yoon Jong have?
He had known for some time now
that he was falling behind the others. Realistically, his role was mostly to
clean up and support Jo Geol’s reckless actions.
That’s why those words hurt so
much.
‘But still...!’
The blood cultist lunged at
him.
“Die!”
Yoon Jong instinctively started
to step back but then bit his lip in realization. There were enemies behind him
too. He couldn’t forget that.
‘Stay calm!’
The wounds had merely healed.
It wasn’t hopeless. The opponent’s skills weren’t extraordinary. He just needed
to cut them again.
As the enemy charged wildly,
swinging his arms, Yoon Jong thrust his sword. The lightning-fast sword aimed
for the enemy’s neck.
It was a textbook move. But
because it was so textbook, it was also the most dangerous.
Yet, as he fully drew his
sword, Yoon Jong’s eyes widened in realization of his mistake.
Bam!
Yoon Jong’s body was thrown to
the side.
“Uuurghh.”
A gurgling sound came from his
throat.
Yoon Jong’s sword had
accurately pierced the masked man’s neck. By all logic, the person should have
died before being able to attack.
But the blood cultist, despite
having his neck pierced, had struck Yoon Jong’s side.
“Ugh!”
Yoon Jong tumbled and coughed
violently.
The intense pain felt as if all
his ribs had shattered. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
‘Damn it...’
Yoon Jong hadn’t been foolish.
That’s the way martial arts is.
At the intersection where life and death are decided in an instant, thinking is
meaningless. Martial arts is about training the body to move before the mind
can think, through countless repetitions of the same actions.
Targeting the enemy’s neck in
response to an attack was almost instinctual. It was a habit Yoon Jong had
forced himself to develop over time.
But the habit that had saved
him countless times had become a hindrance at this moment.
“Huuft.”
Yoon Jong gasped for breath and
clenched his teeth.
From the blood cultist’s gaping
neck, grotesque tendrils writhed and squirmed. The hole was gradually closing.
The new flesh wasn’t normal. It
was a dark, bark-like color instead of the usual red. But regardless, the wound
was healing again.
‘This isn’t going to work...’
Yoon Jong paused for a moment.
His eyes gradually settled into a deep calm.
- It’s impossible, Sasuk!
He had shouted that day. But
Baek Cheon hadn’t looked back.
Yoon Jong thought as he took a
deep breath.
What would Baek Cheon have done
in this situation?
He would have first planted his
feet firmly. To prevent his weak resolve from manifesting as trembling. Believing
that his confidently spread shoulders would give him strength.
‘There must be a way.’
If there weren’t, those Blood
Palace bastards wouldn’t have remained hidden outside.
Moreover, that wasn’t all. Yoon
Jong had already witnessed the sight of them retreating. If their bodies could
regenerate infinitely, they would never have retreated like that...
‘Wait.’
Yoon Jong paused again,
recalling the time when the Blood Cult had confronted Cheong Myeong.
‘What did that guy say as he
retreated?’
It was clear that Cheong Myeong’s
sword...
“Ha!”
Before he could finish his
thought, the enemies charged at him with their eyes wide open. Yoon Jong
reflexively pushed off the ground and leaped back.
‘Immortal qi?’
He
was sure they had mentioned it.
Clang!
His
sword clashed with a bizarrely shaped blade. In that moment, a blood cultist
reached out with his other arm to wrap around Yoon Jong’s sword. It was an act
that no sane person would even consider.
But
these people could do it. Whether their arms were cut off or pierced, if they
could bind their opponent’s sword even for a moment, it was worth it.
Yoon
Jong quickly pulled back his sword in fright. In the brief interval, the blood
cultist’s bizarrely shaped blade grazed past Yoon Jong’s neck. Unlike theirs,
his neck wouldn’t reattach if severed.
‘Immortal qi!’
Yoon
Jong’s breath grew ragged.
Immortal Qi (Seon-gi)—the ethereal energy of the
heavens. It was the ultimate dream for those who wielded Taoist swords,
something they longed for even in their sleep. Yet, its true nature remained a
mystery to all.
‘No.’
Looking
back, they hadn’t said Immortal qi
was their weakness. They had just said it was the nemesis of all dark martial
arts.
Why
had Cheong Myeong said that?
“Kaaaahh!”
At
that moment, a howl from an enemy behind him reached his ears. At the same
time, he felt a fierce energy rushing in from behind.
Yoon
Jong instinctively rolled to the side.
Boom!
Almost
simultaneously, the ground where he had been standing exploded, sending dirt
and stones flying.
“Huff!”
Harsh
breaths kept escaping his lips.
‘So
why didn’t he teach us?’
If
Immortal qi was the solution to
dealing with them, and knowing that Mount Hua could clash with them again
someday... why hadn’t Cheong Myeong taught everyone how to harness Immortal qi?
Why?
“You
shameless donkey,” one of the blood cultists sneered.
“And
yet you act so high and mighty.”
The
blood cultists mocked as they saw Yoon Jong rolling on the ground to avoid the
attack. But their ridicule didn’t shake Yoon Jong at all.
“...Sorry.”
As
Yoon Jong spoke for the first time, the blood cultists looked at him with a
curious glint.
“I’ve
never been one to act high and mighty. I’m not that kind of person.”
“Haha!”
A
sharp laugh returned.
Once
again, Yoon Jong breathed in a cool and calm breath instead of anger.
He
had no reason to be angry. He had just spoken his true feelings.
Compared
to monstrous disciples and seniors who climbed higher each time he saw them, Yoon
Jong knew he was ordinary. He was well aware of that.
But
what did he have?
His
eyes settled calmly.
“We’ve
wasted enough time. Let’s finish this and leave...”
“I
know.”
The
blood cultists glanced upward. If they delayed any longer, reinforcements might
come from Mount Wudang. That would put them in danger.
“End
him.”
“Yes.”
The
blood cultists spread out, surrounding Yoon Jong.
Yoon
Jong calmly observed them. Their intention to finish him off in one blow was
clear. He instinctively knew this wouldn’t be easy. Their attacks, indifferent
to the injuries they would receive, were unimaginably vicious and dangerous.
But
instead of panicking, he took a deep breath. His sword emitted a heavy sword
sound.
‘Why
didn’t he teach us?’
And
why hadn’t Baek Cheon spoken of what he intended to do or achieve?
“Kaaahhh!”
As
one blood cultist charged straight at Yoon Jong, the others followed suit,
swinging their grotesque swords menacingly.
Yoon
Jong’s eyes briefly blazed with intensity but soon calmed like a serene lake.
‘He
didn’t need to say anything.’
Nothing
in the world, nothing at all, changes suddenly. There’s nothing to gain in an
instant.
If
it seems that way, it’s only because one cannot see the long time hidden behind
it.
Sharp
blades flew in from all directions, aiming to tear Yoon Jong’s flesh apart.
Yoon
Jong, who had been observing them as if watching someone else, slowly moved his
sword.
‘It’s
not that he didn’t tell us.’
He
didn’t need to.
Even
if one isn’t special or extraordinary, there’s always something.
If
the time he had spent until now wasn’t a lie, the answer would be within him.
That is martial arts, and that is the Tao!
“Faith.”
As
Yoon Jong murmured, the tip of his sharp sword moved smoothly. Crimson petals
began to bloom delicately.
The
sight resembled clear morning dew.
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