Chapter 1805 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1805. If It Must Be Carried (5) ❀ ❀ ❀

“L-Lord Tang?”

Jo Geol’s pupils trembled violently.

‘This is...!’

The situation for Tang Gunak is dire. No, it’s not just Tang Gunak—Namgung Dowi is also on the brink. If this continues, neither of them will last much longer.

If that happens, the lives of Hye Yeon and Lee Songbaek will be endangered. Furthermore, the direction of this war will become completely unpredictable.

“No, that can’t happen!”

Jo Geol reflexively stomped the ground. He needed to eliminate the enemies immediately. But just as he moved, a powerful hand grabbed him by the back of his neck.

“What the—! Let me go—!”

“Get a grip, man!”

Yoon Jong yanked Jo Geol back and shouted furiously.

“Sahyung!”

“You can’t just leave now, not here!”

At those words, Jo Geol flinched and looked around.

The disciples of Mount Hua were fighting desperately, struggling against the vicious Red Dogs. It was remarkable—something worthy of praise a hundred or even a thousand times over.

And yet, the harsh reality was undeniable.

Even though the Mount Hua disciples had grown remarkably under Cheong Myeong’s guidance, they were still young. Against the Red Dogs warriors, who had been meticulously trained by Jang Ilso, they couldn’t match up.

Perhaps they could hold their ground momentarily, but claiming victory in the end would be incredibly difficult.

The current situation already reflected that truth.

Thud!

“Samae!”

Yoo Iseol darted like a sparrow, rescuing Baek generation disciple who was in danger.

“Focus, Sahyung!.”

“Y-Yes, sorry.”

The Baek generation disciple, who had been helped by Yoo Iseol, quickly nodded and readjusted their sword grip. Yoo Iseol surveyed the battlefield again before leaping forward.

Jo Geol, watching this scene, bit his lip. Yoon Jong’s voice rang out again.

“If we lose ground here, the entire line will collapse. You know this!”

Yes, he knew.

Without Yoo Iseol, Jo Geol, and Yoon Jong, the Mount Hua disciples would have already crumbled. To maintain this frontline, Jo Geol’s strength was absolutely necessary.

“But…”

“No buts!”

Yoon Jong glared at Jo Geol with fiery determination, shouting at him like a lion.

“Do what you can! You can’t save everyone!”

Jo Geol didn’t respond, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Yes, Yoon Jong was right. He was much smarter than Jo Geol could ever be. But still...

Jo Geol squeezed his eyes shut.

For a brief moment, he wondered if Baek Cheon would have made a different decision in this situation. The thought filled him with self-loathing.

Jo Geol was about to speak again when it happened.

“Have faith.”

“....What?”

Yoon Jong, his bloodshot eyes fixed on those in danger, spoke with a voice trembling yet resolute.

“It doesn’t always have to be you.”

His tone carried both unease and strange conviction.

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Clang!

Swords clashed violently.

One fighter was pushed back, while the other stepped forward.

If the other Mount Hua disciples had witnessed this, they would have been shocked. The one being pushed back was none other than Cheong Myeong.

“How peculiar.”

The eyes of Jin Songwon, visible through his mask, twisted slightly.

“Didn’t you promise to show me?”

The sword in his hand descended toward Cheong Myeong’s head as if to split it open. The Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword soared upward like lightning to block the strike.

Claang!

But the repelled sword came back with renewed force, driving Cheong Myeong further back.

Screeeech.

Cheong Myeong’s feet dragged across the ground as he slid. Jin Songwon tilted his head slightly, approaching the retreating Cheong Myeong.

“So, this is it? Was the reputation of Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword nothing but an empty title?”

His voice brimmed with suppressed anger, as though stifled frustration was pouring out.

Cheong Myeong wiped the blood trickling from his mouth and glared at Jin Songwon with darkened eyes.

“Seems you’ve spent too much time sulking in corners. If you really want to know, stop playing games and come at me for real. When my sword pierces your throat, you’ll understand.”

Jin Songwon halted. It wasn’t Cheong Myeong’s provocation that stopped him—it was a single word that stuck in his mind.

‘Corner.’

It might have been just an offhand comment. But for some reason, Jin Songwon felt an intense premonition.

“How did you know?”

“......”

“Answer me. How did you know?”

Cheong Myeong spat out the blood pooling in his mouth and chuckled faintly.

Jin Songwon wouldn't have been able to understand. At least, as far as he could recall, Cheong Myeong had never even properly encountered a disciple of Diancang.

Yet, Cheong Myeong spoke as if he knew for certain that his opponent was from Diancang, even using the term ‘corner’ to mock the remote location of Diancang.

For Cheong Myeong, it was impossible not to know. He had seen that sword countless times before.

“If you want to know, come at me properly. Drop that pretentious strong sword nonsense [gang-geom, 강검(强劍)]. Show me your Shooting the Sun [sail, 사일(射日)] or Piercing the Sun [gwanil, 관일(貫日)] or whatever you’ve got.”

In that instant, Jin Songwon's eyes froze.

The Shooting the Sun Sword Technique (射日劍法) is the signature skill of Diancang, and the Piercing-the-Sun Spear Technique (貫日槍法) is another exclusive martial art of Diancang. Mentioning the two most famous martial arts of Diancang implies that Cheong Myeong was already certain that Jin Songwon was a Diancang swordsman.

“.... You're an enigmatic one.”

Of course, Jin Songwon hadn’t made any particular effort to hide it. There was nothing to gain by concealing his identity. Even so, the reason he did not use Diancang’s sword techniques or their profound principles might have been the lingering uneasiness in a corner of his heart.

But if Cheong Myeong had already figured it out, there was one question Jin Songwon desperately wanted to ask.

“Fine. If you know, if you’ve figured it out….”

Jin Songwon glared at Cheong Myeong with bloodshot eyes.

“Do you have anything to say to me... No, to us?”

Cheong Myeong snickered at those words.

“Why would I? Nothing's going to change anyway.”

Jin Songwon let out a laugh that sounded like wind escaping.

“Good. At least you're not trying to justify yourself with pathetic tears.”

He was oddly relieved not to hear some pitiful excuse.

“You're right. Nothing will change.”

Even so, Jin Songwon felt a strange emptiness. He mocked himself for it. What had he been hoping to hear from this man called Cheong Myeong?

“If you want to see it so badly, then I'll show you. A technique that’s about to disappear from this world.”

Jin Songwon adjusted his stance.

It wasn’t a sword strike. He pulled his sword arm back taut, aiming its tip directly at Cheong Myeong as if he were an archer drawing a bowstring.

“This is Sail.” [Shooting the Sun]

Whizz!

The sound that followed resembled both a sharp whistle and the snapping of an overstretched bowstring.

By the time the sound registered in Cheong Myeong's ears, a long gash had already appeared on his face.

“...Don’t misunderstand.”

Jin Songwon slowly withdrew his sword, which had just grazed Cheong Myeong's face, and spoke, his tone as if he were gritting his teeth.

“This isn’t mercy, nor is it mockery. It’s just… if you were to die without understanding the technique I’ve revealed, wouldn’t that make me utterly pathetic?”

It was an absurdly impressive sword technique.

Mount Hua also practiced swift sword techniques, but they were fundamentally different from Diancang’s. Mount Hua’s swift sword was meant to confuse the opponent, while Sail was a purely destructive swift sword designed solely to pierce through the enemy.

A technique that spared nothing, dedicating everything to impale the target’s throat.

“I’ve always thought this.”

“Hmm?”

“…How dare people call Mount Hua’s sword heretical? Those damned Ten Great Sects bastards. In a world where users of such techniques are considered Righteous Sect, who are they to speak?”

For a moment, Jin Songwon was silent, then, for the first time, his eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled.

“A sword bears no sin.”

“Right. That’s why it matters where you stand. So, where do you stand now?”

“....Thanks to someone, I suppose.”

“That’s a convenient excuse.”

“An excuse?”

“You just lacked the courage to die, that’s all.”

In an instant, a gleam of murderous intent flashed in Jin Songwon's eyes.

“You….”

Whiiizz!

Jin Songwon’s sword grazed Cheong Myeong’s shoulder with a fierce slash.

“What do you know to spout such nonsense!”

The unleashed sword energy embedded itself in Cheong Myeong’s arm.

The attack was so swift it was nearly impossible to follow, let alone counter. Even Cheong Myeong, who typically intercepted before seeing, struggled to keep up with the overwhelming speed. Even without distractions, could he have perfectly defended against it?

“You…!”

Whiiizz!

Another slash tore through Cheong Myeong, leaving wounds across his body.

“What do you know?”

The sword appeared and disappeared in an instant, shining brilliantly for just a moment. It was fleeting yet dazzlingly beautiful.

“Do you know what it means to face certain extinction?”

Jin Songwon drew his sword back again.

This wasn’t a continuous storm of sword energies. It was deliberate: pulling back, aiming, and finally unleashing. Each measured, skillful movement built to a single explosive strike, creating an oppressive tension that gripped the heart.

“What it feels like to accept destruction!”

Whiizz!

The moment it registered that the strike had been unleashed, the sword had already pierced through his body. There was no time to react to such speed.

“Does it hurt?”

Cheong Myeong grabbed the sword embedded in his shoulder. But before he could muster the strength to grip it, the sword was pulled back. Jin Songwon gave his blood-stained sword a sharp flick.

“This is the sword of Diancang. A fleeting sword. It will disappear just like a sword energy.”

Cheong Myeong tilted his head slightly and let out a low chuckle.

“You're putting on quite the tragic act.”

“You....”

Jin Songwon’s fury finally exploded.

“You bastaaard!”

Kwaaang!

Jin Songwon's sword struck Cheong Myeong’s sword with immense force, sending his body flying like a leaf caught in a tempest.

“What do you know?!”

Jin Songwon moved like a thunderbolt, immediately closing the gap to Cheong Myeong.

Kwaaang!

Their swords clashed once again. Cheong Myeong, who had been flung into the air, braced himself against the ground with one hand to stabilize his posture, glaring up at Jin Songwon, who was descending toward him.

Fwaaaash!

Jin Songwon's sword unleashed five radiant streaks of light—each so fast they were impossible to follow.

Clang!

Cheong Myeong twisted the sword energy, deflecting them all.

Crash!

Jin Songwon's fierce downward slash collided with Cheong Myeong's sword, creating a resounding impact.

Cheong Myeong’s knees bent precariously, as though they might snap under the pressure.

“Yes. Perhaps this is the result of our own indifference.”

“......”

“But… do you even understand the anguish of someone who has no choice but to accept the annihilation of their sect?”

Tears of blood streamed from Jin Songwon’s eyes.

“Do you know the feelings of those who had to abandon everything and crawl through the mud because of a future that might already be lost…?”

At that moment, a powerful energy surged up Cheong Myeong’s sword, climbing toward Jin Songwon's.

“What...?”

Kwaaang!

With a deafening explosion, Jin Songwon staggered back a few steps, unable to withstand the shockwave.

Fwaaaaash!

In an instant, countless plum blossoms bloomed before Jin Songwon's eyes.

Slash! Slash! Slash! Slash!

The overwhelming barrage of plum blossom sword energy enveloped Jin Songwon's entire body, too swift and intricate to counter.

“Urgh…”

Jin Songwon tried to retreat but faltered under the unrelenting assault. Just as he began to step back, something abruptly shot out from the chaotic flurry of plum blossoms.

Cheong Myeong's foot slammed into Jin Songwon's solar plexus.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

With a strangled gasp, Jin Songwon was sent flying backward, rolling across the ground. Clenching his teeth, he tried to prop himself up and rise, but Cheong Myeong spoke.

“I understand.”

“...What?”

“I said, I understand.”

Cheong Myeong stood amidst the fading plum blossom energy, staring at Jin Songwon.

Jin Songwon looked up at him with an expression of incomprehension, as though Cheong Myeong were gazing at something impossibly distant.

“I understand it all too well. To the point of being sick of it.”

From Cheong Myeong's sword, a crimson plum blossom bloomed once more. There was no mercy in them, only radiating a murderous intent as they surged toward Jin Seungwon in a violent storm.

Next Chapter

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