Chapter 1801 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

 

Chapter 1801. If It Must Be Carried (1) ❀ ❀ ❀

Cheong Myeong’s gaze fixated on the blue sword energy emanating from the masked figure.

It was flawless, unmarred by any imperfections.

“Righteous Art.” [jeong-gong, 정공(正功)]

There was no doubt. It was a righteous art, and an exceptionally advanced one at that. It was undeniable proof that the martial arts this figure practiced hailed from a prestigious sect.

Cheong Myeong’s expression twisted fiercely. 

“....A traitor?”

The masked figure’s lips twitched at his muttering.

A voice that seemed to carry both displeasure and amusement responded.

“I won’t deny it, though it’s not something I’m particularly proud of.”

“Save your words.”

Red energy flowed over Cheong Myeong’s sword, thick with murderous intent. But the masked figure, Jin Songwon, darkened his gaze.

Had someone else made such a comment, Jin Songwon might not have even bothered to respond. After all, it was the unvarnished truth. And besides, he was a walking corpse, bereft of honor to protect. He had no reason to waste energy getting provoked.

But still….

“Even if the entire world condemns me, I have no intention of making excuses.” 

“.....”

“But you… you are the one person who has no right to say such things.”

It was Cheong Myeong’s choices that had driven them to this state. Decisions he had made without hesitation had led to this tragedy.

Even if those choices had been correct—even if they were beyond reproach—surely, they deserved at least the right to scream in protest. That’s why he wanted to ask.

“Do you know who I am?”

It was a question loaded with so much weight that it felt oddly simple. Cheong Myeong’s answer, however, was even simpler.

“Does it matter?”

His voice was chillingly cold.

“Knowing won’t change the fact that you’re a traitor.”

Jin Songwon let out a bitter laugh. He couldn’t even think of a retort. Cheong Myeong’s words were so cold they sparked an inexplicable fury deep within him.

A traitor. Is that all that can be defined by one word? He, and even Diancang Sect?

“What’s the difference between one who betrays and one forced into betrayal?”

Jin Songwon’s voice carried a touch of resigned self-mockery. Yet Cheong Myeong refused to engage with it.

“There is no difference. The result is the same.”

“....Is that so?”

Jin Songwon chuckled faintly, the bitterness in his laughter failing to reach Cheong Myeong, who had no intention of empathizing with him.

No betrayal is ever without a story.

To others, it might seem like a despicable act motivated by petty greed, but to the betrayer, it could be born from desperate circumstances.

Cheong Myeong surely knew this.

In the past, when when they fought against more formidable enemies, when they had to endure despair longer than now, were there truly no traitors? Were there no people who worshipped Heavenly Demon as a god in order to survive? And those who turned their swords against their comrades, hadn’t they existed?

“Let me ask you this in reverse.”

“....What do you mean?”

“If I had a story of my own, would you accept it if it meant driving a sword through your fellow disciples throats?”

Jin Songwon hesitated for a moment. Perhaps he couldn’t answer at all.

Cheong Myeong gazed at him as if he had already heard the answer. His icy eyes pierced Jin Songwon’s heart like a sword.

Cheong Myeong spoke with a chilling finality.

“That’s why it’s meaningless. No matter the reason, no one forgives someone who thrusts a sword at their comrades. All I can return to you is hatred.”

“.....”

“Save your sob stories for hell. Someone there might actually care to listen.”

Jin Songwon stared at Cheong Myeong.

His eyes, visible through the mask, carried an overwhelming weight of emotions.

“You won’t listen, will you?”

“There’s no reason to.”

“Is that really all there is?”

Jin Songwon’s voice gained a faint strength.

“Or is it that you’re afraid to hear me out?”

“Say whatever you like.”

“Haha….”

A dry, deflated laugh escaped Jin Songwon’s lips.

“I almost wish you were a monster devoid of all emotion.”

Cheong Myeong frowned slightly. Jin Songwon continued.

“A monster consumed by righteousness. One who never questions their own correctness, never regrets their actions, and never looks back, always moving forward.”

To be honest, Jin Songwon had always thought Cheong Myeong was that kind of person.

From everything he’d heard, Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword-Cheong Myeong was a paragon of conviction, unwavering in his path even as the world doubted and feared him. Someone so brilliant that his light scorched all those around him.

That’s why Jin Songwon had expected it. He thought Cheong Myeong would offer elaborate justifications, a grand defense of his choices.

But the Cheong Myeong standing before him displayed none of that.

“And yet, in my eyes....”

Which was why Jin Songwon found it unbearable.

“All I see is a man wracked with anguish.”

“There’s no anguish. Especially not for someone like you.”

“Is that so?”

Jin Songwon smirked faintly, his eyes narrowing.

“If that were true, you’d have swung your sword without a word. Yet here you are, spending all this precious time with me.”

“...”

“You say you have only hatred to give me, yet why do your eyes look at me like that?”

Jin Songwon could see it. No, he could see it because he was Jin Songwon. The searing pain buried in that young man’s gaze.

Jin Songwon had once been forced to make a choice too difficult to bear. If not for that experience, he would have never been able to read the pain hidden in those eyes.

But what difference does it make to understand that pain?

Sreek.

The tip of Jin Songwon’s sword scraped the ground. He hadn’t come to find Cheong Myeong for an apology.

In truth, no one knew better than Jin Songwon that Cheong Myeong had nothing to apologize for.

So this might just be a simple venting of anger. Even so, it was a scream of frustration at the end of life that he could not endure without letting it out.

Gooooo.

The energy around Jin Songwon’s sword grew thicker. And finally, the sword moved.

“Let me ask you again.”

Kaaaaang!

“What was the difference?”

A heavy strike aimed not to kill but to crush rained down toward Cheong Myeong’s head. The weight behind the blow was enough to twist Cheong Myeong’s wrist.

“Were we so disposable?”

Kwaaang!

Their swords clashed again, colliding with an explosive sound.

“Tell me.”

Kwaaang!

“Were we worthless?”

Kwaaang!

Swords met and locked.

‘Heavy.’

Cheong Myeong bit his lip. The weight pressing down felt like it would shatter not just his wrist but his entire body.

It wasn’t just his physical condition that made it hard to bear.

Through the entangled swords, Cheong Myeong could see Jin Songwon’s eyes. In the gaze visible through the mask’s opening, emotions roiled that Cheong Myeong knew all too well.

Regret and resentment.

But those weren’t all. At the deepest level, there was… despair.

It made sense. Regret and resentment are emotions for those who still have something left to hold on to. That despair belonged to someone who had realized they had already tread a path of no return.

Just like….

“Answer me!”

Kwaaaang!

Cheong Myeong was flung backward.

Jin Songwon’s attacks carried an unrelenting purity of righteous art. That unwavering energy was more threatening to Cheong Myeong now than even the most demonic art. Disturbed things cannot withstand what is utterly steadfast.

Blood surged in his throat, and his dantian twisted as if it were about to tear apart.

But Jin Songwon, showing no hint of mercy, swung his sword toward Cheong Myeong once more.

Cheong Myeong drove his sword into the ground, using it to push himself sideways. The immense power of Jin Songwon’s strike churned the earth where he had just stood into a mangled mess.

“It’s useless!”

Thunk!

Jin Songwon swiftly shifted his stance, pivoting on his foot. His sword described a strange arc, its tip surging straight toward Cheong Myeong’s chest.

Cheong Myeong hurriedly blocked the attack, but he hadn’t been able to channel his true energy properly. Facing a sword imbued with such radiant energy seemed impossible.

And yet, at that moment, Jin Songwon’s eyes widened.

Clang!

His sword, which had clashed against Cheong Myeong’s, was deflected upward.

Though his sword veered in an unintended direction, he felt no recoil in his wrist.

Instead, what he felt was sharp pain. Cheong Myeong’s sword had pierced through, slicing into his wrist. The sword dug through flesh, twisting violently to sever bone. He could feel every bit of it.

“Haaahp!”

But instead of retreating, Jin Songwon stepped forward, channeling all his energy into his injured wrist to block the sword as he swung his own sword with all his might.

Kwaaaaaang!

Jin Songwon’s attack landed squarely, sending Cheong Myeong’s body hurtling backward like a cannonball. Dust rose in a thick cloud where Cheong Myeong crashed.

Jin Songwon briefly glanced down at his wrist. Blood streamed from a wound so deep it exposed the bone.

An astonishing level of skill Shifting Flower onto Tree. [TL note: yihwajeobmog, 이화접목(移花接木), It’s a phrase meaning ‘substitute one thing for another by stealth’]

‘In that situation?’

It was like performing acrobatics on a single hair stretched between two cliffs. And yet, Cheong Myeong had managed to pull it off, not in practice but in a life-or-death battle.

What truly unsettled Jin Songwon, however, wasn’t the deep wound on his wrist. It was the smaller cut above it.

Compared to the gash beneath, it was no more than a scratch. But considering that the one who left it had been sent flying by his energy and still found the moment to strike, its significance was far greater.

“Ha…. haha.”

A dry laugh escaped Jin Songwon’s lips.

“Yes. That’s how it should be.”

He couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was feeling, but one thing was clear.

He hadn’t yet unleashed everything. No, he hadn’t unleashed anything at all.

“I wished desperately for you to be stronger. More than anyone.”

Only if the recipient of his misdirected hatred was powerful enough could he find some solace in venting his resentment.

Cheong Myeong emerged from the dust cloud. His steps were steady, unwavering.

“Ptooey!”

Spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth, he fixed Jin Songwon with an icy glare.

For a moment, Jin Songwon felt an indescribable chill. His heart pounded, and goosebumps spread over his skin.

“Don’t be satisfied yet. We haven’t even begun.”

“...”

Jin Songwon opened his mouth to reply but shook his head instead. What words could suffice now?

Words were meaningless. This wasn’t a pursuit of understanding. His questions and Cheong Myeong’s answers would forever circle each other, never aligning.

Whooong.

Jin Songwon’s sword hummed again with energy. Cheong Myeong began walking toward him, silent but resolute. Step by step, they approached each other, eyes locked.

Tap. Tap.

At the end of a path that should have never crossed, they stood facing one another. Those who had to move forward and those who had no way back had no choice but to face each other like this.

Clang!

Swords collided. Amidst the erupting energy, neither gave an inch as they pushed against each other.

Next Chapter

❀ ❀ ❀

If anyone wants to donate to motivate me (I'll use the money to buy the RAWs from Naver Series too). Thank you so much!

- Buy Me a Coffee

- Patreon

- Trakteer (this one for Indonesian)