Chapter 1800 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect
Yoon Jong's
eyes widened in shock.
“That...
crazy bastard...”
His gaze was
locked onto Jo Geol.
However, it
wasn't in a negative sense. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, Yoon Jong
used the term ‘crazy bastard’ in a positive way to describe someone.
Those
unfamiliar with Mount Hua wouldn't have understood, but Yoon Jong saw it
clearly—the act Jo Geol had just performed.
‘The
sword...’
The sword
strike that bloomed plum blossoms at its tip was unlike anything in Mount Hua's
sword techniques. Not even Cheong Myeong had ever wielded such a sword.
Of course,
it was still crude, and the plum blossoms were laughably rough..... but even so,
they had bloomed.
New plum
blossoms. Jo Geol’s own plum blossoms. Yoon Jong might have been the sole
witness to this moment.
Had Jo Geol
known all along?
Did he
realize that, compared to the extraordinarily elegant Yoo Iseol or the
textbook-perfect Baek Cheon, his swordsmanship—focused on speed—couldn't fully
bring out the essence of Mount Hua's sword technique? Was that why he created a
new form of the technique after much contemplation, centering on speed?
‘No way.
That idiot.’
Yoon Jong
laughed helplessly at the absurdity of it.
It was
impossible for such deep reflection to have existed in that fool’s head. If so,
that sword must have been born entirely out of instinct. It was the culmination
of his accumulated experience, acting as fertilizer and foundation, that had
given rise to a new form of swordsmanship.
Even if it
was merely a glimpse of what was to come.
It was then
that Yoon Jong realized his hands were trembling with excitement.
Though this
wasn’t the time for such feelings, the excitement was even harder to suppress
because of the circumstances.
‘Perhaps
that guy truly has the potential to become the Sword of Mount Hua.’
While it was
evident Jo Geol had talent, even Yoon Jong hadn’t expected it to be to this
extent. It wasn’t because he was inattentive but because the talents
surrounding Jo Geol were so dazzling.
Hye Yeon,
praised as a prodigy of Shaolin in a century. Yoo Iseol, destined to leave her
name in the history of Mount Hua. Baek Cheon, raised as the pride of Mount Hua,
embodying its essence. And, of course, the brilliant Cheong Myeong, whose
presence left one speechless and breathless.
Yet, even
among these luminaries, Jo Geol did not lose his brilliance. And now, he was
finally beginning to bloom fully into his potential.
“Damn kid.”
It seems a sahyung
was still a sahyung. Despite the envy, a deep sense of pride welled up within
him. But Yoon Jong temporarily set aside that pride swelling in his chest.
For now, he
wasn’t Jo Geol’s sahyung. He was the one leading Mount Hua on the battlefield.
“Don’t let
Jo Geol be the only one running wild! Show them that Mount Hua isn’t strong
because of one person but because we’re strong together!”
❀ ❀ ❀
Gwak Hoe bit
his lower lip slightly.
The moment
he heard Yoon Jong’s voice, he knew. Jo Geol must have done something
extraordinary again.
In truth, he
already sensed it even before Yoon Jong spoke. The atmosphere had changed in
the direction where Jo Geol had charged forward.
‘What a
remarkable guy.’
Though he was
foolish in many ways, there was no denying it.
Meanwhile—
Kaaaang!
A Red Dog's sword
flew at him with crushing force, aiming to flatten him entirely. He managed to
block it with his sword, but the pressure on his muscles made them feel like
they were about to burst.
His heart
throbbed, and his toes tingled.
“You little
pest…”
But it wasn’t
the weight behind the sword nor the growling voice that was most oppressive—it
was the feral and savage glint in the Red Dog’s eyes. Those beast-like eyes
clung to him and made him tremble.
Fear. There
was no point in trying to deny it. There was no escaping it.
Still, Gwak
Hoe summoned all his strength and pushed the sword back.
“Haaap!”
Plum
blossoms materialized from his sword and flew toward the Red Dog.
“Not a
chance!”
Kaaang!
The Red Dog’s
sword swept through the plum blossoms, scattering them effortlessly. With just
a single movement, the intricately deployed Plum Blossom Swordsmanship was
obliterated.
Immature
techniques were utterly useless against overwhelming power.
He’d learned
and experienced that lesson countless times.
Thud!
A kick
landed squarely on Gwak Hoe’s chest. Though he barely managed to block it with
his left arm, he couldn’t completely mitigate the impact and was pushed
backward.
“Wearing
plum blossoms doesn’t change the fact that you’re just a weakling.”
Gwak Hoe
brushed his throbbing arm and let out a deep sigh.
‘A weakling,
huh...’
He couldn’t
deny it. The world didn’t even know his name. He was just a nameless
swordfighter of Mount Hua. Now, it’s ambiguous to call him a young disciple,
just a disciple of Mount Hua. That was Gwak Hoe’s identity and entirety.
However....
He glanced
down at the plum blossoms engraved on his chest.
“…Seems like
you don’t understand.”
Jo Geol had
already moved far ahead of him. The distance felt vast, growing ever wider.
Yet, Gwak Hoe didn’t despair.
Because he
had no choice but to acknowledge it. Jo Geol’s brilliance was incomparable to
his own. Instead, he drew strength from that light, which led him forward.
Because they
were different. Jo Geol was different from Cheong Myeong, Baek Cheon, and Yoo Iseol.
“That’s what
matters most.”
Gwak Hoe
gripped his sword tightly. There was no need to force himself to get excited.
No need to recklessly push his spirit.
“Bastard!”
From the
start, everything he needed was within him.
Giiiiiiing!
The Red Dog’s
sword came flying straight down with devastating force. The deafening sound of
air being torn apart shook his ears. Yet, even against such immense power, Gwak
Hoe’s sword did not waver.
‘Keep it
simple.’
Gwak Hoe’s
sword met the descending sword head-on.
‘Keep it
flowing.’
Kaaang!
Kaaang! Kaaang!
His sword
repeatedly struck against the sword, parrying its trajectory. In the brief
moment when the sword hesitated, Gwak Hoe seized his chance.
‘Quickly.’
Paaaat!
Gwak Hoe’s
sword extended in a straight, piercing thrust. Simple and unguarded. Yet, for
that very reason, it was swifter than any strike he’d executed before.
The Red Dog
hastily retracted his sword to defend.
‘Dazzle
them.’
Swish!
At that
moment, Gwak Hoe’s sword split into multiple strands, lashing out at Red Dog
like a whip.
“That won’t
work!”
Clang!
A sharp
metallic sound echoed as all the incoming strikes were blocked by Red Dog’s sword.
However, the movements were far from meaningless. Thanks to this, Gwak Hoe got
a chance to deploy his sword.
Boom!
Gwak Hoe
slammed his sword down, forcing his opponent back momentarily. With a deep
breath, he infused his blade with energy.
‘Spread it
wide.’
The tip of
his sword trembled, and dozens of blossoms began to bloom—vivid, bold, and
distinct, unlike the hastily formed petals of a moment ago.
Twenty-Four
Blossoms Plum Blossom Sword Technique.
Endless
Plum Blossoms. [maehwadodo,
매화도도(梅花滔滔)]
The plum
blossom torrent he unleashed surged toward the Red Dog like a pure river.
The Red Dog
hurriedly swung his sword in all directions. However, the dull sword wall he
had built in a hurry could not be perfect. His heavy sword couldn’t seal every
gap, and Gwak Hoe’s plum blossom sword aura seeped through the cracks.
Slash!
Slash!
Gwak Hoe’s
plum blossom sword energy deeply brushed Red Dog’s flesh.
Thud.
Red Dog
staggered back a step, glaring fiercely at Gwak Hoe.
Though Gwak
Hoe had landed a strike, it didn’t mean he had gained the upper hand. It was
merely a single successful attack.
Yet, the atmosphere
between them had shifted.
Red Dog’s
gaze no longer carried disdain. It lacked the fury of being wounded by someone
he deemed insignificant. It was the gaze of an equal acknowledging a foe.
That single
strike had earned Red Dog’s respect—a recognition that Gwak Hoe had clawed out
with his sword.
If the
opponent is Red Dog of Jang Ilso, it’s something to take pride in.
‘I’ve worked
hard too.’
Though Gwak
Hoe’s skills and reputation didn’t rival Jo Geol’s, none of the disciples of
Mount Hua had lacked effort. Not in recent years. No one in the world could
claim to have lived with more dedication.
“That’s why
it matters. I have a plum blossom engraved on my chest.”
Gwak Hoe
murmured, taking a short breath.
“I am a
swordsman of Mount Hua.”
How much
pride it held, a pride that no one who wasn’t part of Mount Hua could ever
understand. And that name carried all the weight in the world.
“So come on,
you bastard! I’ll cut you down myself!”
❀ ❀ ❀
The
adjutants of the military warfare who were monitoring the situation right
behind the front lines could not hide their bewilderment. They could not
believe that the situation was worse than they had thought.
‘Why?’
The
commanders of the Evil Tyrant Alliance focused all their might on the front
lines, believing a swift, overwhelming attack would end the battle decisively.
They’d even deployed the Red Dogs earlier than planned.
Although it
was deployed earlier than planned, he had no doubt that their joining would
instantly collapse the stagnant front line. The Red Dogs was that great of a
force.
Kwaaaaah!
From time to
time, bursts of sword energy erupted from the battlefield, shaking the air. The
raw power on display was nothing less than what they’d heard of Red Dog’s
fearsome reputation.
And yet, the
enemy’s lines were holding.
“Why?”
As if
answering the question, red plum blossoms began to bloom across the
battlefield.
“Ugh….”
Now, just
the sight of those plum blossoms made their stomachs churn.
That was it.
The Plum Blossom Sword Technique of Mount Hua was stopping Red Dog in their
tracks.
“Come and
see! Jang Ilso’s dogs!”
“Is that all
you’ve got? Even mangy mutts are fiercer than you!”
The
disciples of Mount Hua were standing their ground against Red Dog’s might.
“Why?”
Was it
because Mount Hua was strong? No, that wasn’t an acceptable answer.
Of course,
Mount Hua was formidable. But Red Dog’s power was supposed to overwhelm them.
It should have been enough.
“Then why is
this happening?! Why on earth!”
A desperate,
enraged cry escaped the adjutant's lips.
❀ ❀ ❀
“....How
stupid.”
Cheong
Myeong muttered coldly.
How could
they think this would be so easy? This was Mount Hua they were facing.
It wasn’t
blind faith in his sect.
The
disciples of Mount Hua had always been this way. They trained with him,
sparring day after day, pushing themselves to the brink of their limits.
‘These Mount
Hua lunatics never fought anyone weaker than themselves.’
From their
first proper contest at the Mount Hua-Zhongnan Conference until now, they had
always faced stronger opponents.
These were
people who had survived those trials. They wouldn’t fall so easily.
Cheong
Myeong believed in them—not because of what he had done, but because of the
path they had walked. Because of the righteousness engraved in their hearts.
They were
different from Cheong Myeong. Where he lacked, they would fill the gaps for one
another. That’s what it meant to be comrades. That’s what the Heavenly Comrade Alliance
was for.
So the place
Cheong Myeong needed to be wasn’t where his comrades were.
Cheong
Myeong turned his gaze forward. Though obscured by the mass of bodies, he could
feel it clearly.
‘Jang Ilso.’
He was
there, the root of all this chaos.
With dark,
determined eyes, Cheong Myeong took a step forward—or at least, he intended to.
“Mount Hua
Chivalrous Sword. Am I right?”
A voice
interrupted him. Slowly, he turned his head.
Not far
away, a masked man was approaching.
Cheong
Myeong frowned, his disbelief evident.
‘How did I
allow him to get this close?’
Though his
condition wasn’t perfect, to not even sense the man’s presence until now….
And then,
the answer dawned on him. There was no hint of the malicious aura typical of
the evil sects emanating from this man. In fact, his energy was so pure and
righteous that it didn’t register as a threat.
That
realization only deepened the mystery.
“It seems to
be true.”
The masked
man said softly, his tone calm.
The faint
movement of the mask near his mouth suggested he was smiling.
“I’ve wanted
to meet you for a long time. Very much so.”
The man
stopped just in front of Cheong Myeong and slowly drew his sword.
The bluish
sword aura reflecting on the sword felt chillingly sorrowful for some reason.
❀ ❀ ❀
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