Chapter 1808 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect
It was so
suffocating, it was burdensome.
If it hadn’t
been for Baek Cheon, this life would have ended already. If only it had, then…
perhaps there would have been rest.
Looking up
at the sky without hiding one’s face felt terrifying. Yet Jin Songwon tore off
his own mask.
Because he
was no longer afraid? Or because even carrying this heart forward had become
unbearable?
Desperation...
As he mulled
over Baek Cheon’s words, Jin Songwon let out a faint scoff.
Step.
Step.
Then,
footsteps echoed. The sound came from behind Baek Cheon.
Startled by
an eerie feeling, Baek Cheon turned hastily.
“...You, get
out of the way.”
Cheong
Myeong, who had been pushed away from Jin Songwon’s side, was now approaching,
exuding a chilling intent. He showed no signs of stopping, nor did he seem
inclined to grant Jin Songwon any more time.
Baek Cheon,
suffocating under the tension, raised his voice.
“Stop it
already! Didn’t you hear me?”
“And if I
stop?”
“What?”
Cheong
Myeong asked indifferently.
“If I stop,
what changes?”
“…”
“Do you
think he can return to a peaceful life now?”
Baek Cheon
bit his lip tightly.
He knew. It
was impossible. These people had already sinned. Even if Baek Cheon and Mount
Hua forgave them, the world would not.
“You can’t
undo what’s been done. The moment you commit the act, it’s already over.”
As Baek
Cheon prepared to retort, biting his trembling lips—
“That’s
right. The only thing left is to carry it.” [Tl note: the title of this arc, to
carry/bear/shoulder]
Jin
Songwon’s voice, filled with hollow emptiness, rang out.
“…Sect
Leader.”
When Baek
Cheon turned, Jin Songwon was no longer looking at the sky but at him.
“But if one
lacks the strength to carry it any longer, there’s only one option. To fall
with the burden.”
Jin
Songwon’s sword pointed forward—not at Baek Cheon, but at Cheong Myeong, who
was approaching. No… It was unclear now who the sword was aimed at.
Perhaps Jin
Songwon himself didn’t know.
“Deputy Sect
Leader. You’re a good person.”
He smiled
faintly as he spoke.
“There’s
still something you can do. Something other than clinging to crumbled remains
and weeping over them. So step aside. If you have time to persuade me, use it
to save your comrades instead. Leave no room for regret.”
There was a
small warmth at the end of his cold voice.
But before
anyone could sense it fully, Jin Songwon’s sword sliced through the air.
Paaaat!
Kaaanng!
Jin
Songwon’s sword collided with Cheong Myeong’s once again.
The killing
intent was thick, as if the fleeting emptiness just moments ago had been a lie.
Yet,
something was different. Though the killing intent was heavy, the sharpness of
the sword had undoubtedly dulled.
These
weren’t the kind of people whose swords would falter from minor injuries. Then
why did their resolve waver?
The two
swords clashed repeatedly, ignoring Baek Cheon entirely. Their swords met in a
wretched spot, neither warm nor cold, reflecting their stubborn similarity.
Baek Cheon
felt like his insides were burning.
These two
weren’t refusing to stop, they couldn’t stop. Knowing this path was
wrong, they still had no other option once they’d taken the first step.
Like people
with flames chasing at their backs, they raced toward a steep cliff.
Even though
they knew it would only lead to mutual harm.
This was
unbearable for Baek Cheon.
Kwaang!
The clashing
swords recoiled with a resounding echo. Just as they were about to collide
again, Baek Cheon thrust his hand between them.
The sight of
Baek Cheon’s parched, dried-out hand stopped the two swordsmen in their tracks.
“Ugh…!”
Both Cheong
Myeong and Jin Songwon twisted their swords simultaneously. Retrieving a sword
mid-thrust is far harder than striking, and the sudden reversal caused both to
spit blood.
Jin Songwon
raised his head abruptly, shouting in fury.
“What are
you doing, you insane fool?!”
Baek Cheon’s
hand and wrist were now marked with deep gashes, blood streaming freely. The
wounds were so deep they nearly reached the bone.
Had either
swordsman faltered for even a moment, Baek Cheon’s hand would have been severed
entirely.
“Are you
completely mad?”
Jin Songwon
trembled with rage, his emotions barely under control. But Baek Cheon was no
less indignant.
“You
should’ve just struck me down!”
“…What?”
“A man who
lets his disciples die under the swords of the righteous sects, yet takes his
anger out on unrelated strangers—can’t even cut off one hand of someone he’s
met a few days ago?”
“…..”
“Stop acting
like a child, Sect Leader!”
Baek Cheon
grabbed Jin Songwon by the collar. His trembling hands lacked strength, but he
gripped on nonetheless.
Feeling the
desperate sincerity in that clumsy hold, Jin Songwon froze for a moment.
“It’s not
over yet!”
Baek Cheon
cried out.
“Nothing’s
over yet! Nothing at all!”
He clenched
his fist tighter around Jin Songwon’s collar, then thrust him toward the
battlefield as if to force him to look.
“Do you see
it?”
The scene of
the battlefield came into sharp focus for Jin Songwon.
“Do you see
your disciples dying over there?”
A hellish
pandemonium unfolded as the fighters struggled to kill their opponents. Jin
Songwon’s disciples were not spared from the horrors of this brutal scene.
‘Everyone…’
The stark
reality that could no longer be ignored was laid bare before him.
“Do they
look dead to you already? Do they seem like mere living corpses? Then what is
that blood they’re shedding? Is it all fake?”
“Deputy Sect
Leader.”
“If you
truly feel guilty, isn’t there something else you should be doing? Are you
going to let the rest of your disciples die in disgrace? What crime have those
who followed you committed to deserve that?”
Jin Songwon
slowly turned his gaze toward Baek Cheon, staring at him intently before
finally letting out a soft, dry laugh.
“You have
quite the way with words.”
Thud!
Jin Songwon
brushed off Baek Cheon’s hand as if it was nothing.
“And yet,
all you’re doing is standing here squabbling with me while your comrades are
dying.”
“…..”
“How is that
any different from giving up? All you’re doing is easing your conscience by
acting like this. How is that different from my surrender?”
“It’s
different.”
“And how
so?”
“Because I
haven’t given up, I just believe.”
Baek Cheon
stubbornly extended his hand, pointing back toward the battlefield.
“Look
carefully with your own two eyes. See for yourself if I’ve truly given up.”
In the midst
of that hellscape, two distinct areas caught the eye—Tang Gunak, enduring
agonizing pain, and three young martial artists of the righteous sect locked in
a desperate fight.
Nothing
seemed to have changed from when it all began—nothing at all.
No matter
how much they struggled or how fervently they spoke, they had yet to fully
overcome the Evil Sects. It was just like Diancang Sect.
Just as Jin
Songwon was about to fall silent again—
“….I?”
His eyes
widened slightly as something impossible began to unfold before him.
❀ ❀ ❀
Kaaang!
A flying
dagger shot through the air like lightning, hurtling toward Thousand Faced
Manipulator. It seemed to pierce his body—no, it merely passed through his
afterimage, vanishing like smoke before reappearing.
Thousand
Faced Manipulator smirked faintly.
“In the end,
if I’m not struck, it doesn’t matter.”
“…..”
“Your
judgment is clouded, Tang Gunak. Choosing me as your target was foolish.”
Tang Gunak
winced at his inability to refute those words.
Though he
could keep Thousand Faced Manipulator from fleeing, landing a decisive blow was
another matter. With his evasive maneuvers, Thousand Faced Manipulator was a
difficult opponent even for Tang Gunak at his peak—let alone now, with his
injuries.
And worse—
Paaaang!
Tang Gunak
twisted his body violently.
Kwaaang!
A chilling blade
energy sliced through the spot he had just vacated. Had he failed to dodge, his
body would have been split in two before he could even consider blocking.
“Huff…
huff…”
His
breathing was ragged. Facing Thousand Faced Manipulator alone was overwhelming,
but Jeok Ho was also here.
“For someone
who bragged about handling this alone, you seem quite serious about teaming up.”
“….I don’t
have time to waste anymore.”
Jeok Ho
responded flatly, his voice tinged with irritation.
But one
thing was clear—neither of them intended to waste further effort on Tang Gunak.
The only
reason they hadn’t yet finished him off was one thing—
Chsss…
Acid dripped
from Tang Gunak’s dagger, corroding the ground below.
“Indeed, the
Tang Family is persistent.”
Thousand
Faced Manipulator clicked his tongue in annoyance.
If the acid
coating the dagger was all there was to worry about, they might have risked
some injury to take him down.
But they
couldn’t be sure what else might be hidden in his sleeves. That uncertainty
held them back, making it difficult to get close.
Ironically,
the severe injuries Tang Gunak had sustained were now keeping him alive. No one
wanted to risk a full-force battle with someone who was already on the brink of
death.
If things
continued at this slow pace, Tang Gunak would steadily march toward his death.
However, Thousand
Faced Manipulator and Jeok Ho’s intentions clashed once again.
“Wouldn’t it
be better to end this already?”
Jeok Ho’s
words brought a flicker of irritation to Thousand Faced Manipulator’s face.
“If you want
it so badly, why don’t you do it yourself?”
Thousand
Faced Manipulator retorted curtly, causing Jeok Ho to hesitate briefly.
“What’s
wrong? Worried you might get hurt?”
“I’m not
afraid of something like that.”
“Ah, then
are you worried about what might come next?”
Jeok Ho fell
silent. Thousand Faced Manipulator chuckled dryly.
Jeok Ho
didn’t trust Thousand Faced Manipulator, Dam Yeohae. And so, he had no choice
but to worry—about the moment his injured back was exposed to Thousand Faced
Manipulator, whether during this fight or after the war was over.
Jeok Ho’s
caution stemmed from a straightforward loyalty to Jang Ilso. If Jeok Ho fell,
Jang Ilso would be in greater danger—a rare display of unwavering devotion in
the world of the Evil Sects.
“What did Ryeonju
promise you? I might be able to offer something better.”
At Thousand
Faced Manipulator’s suggestion, Jeok Ho gave a rare laugh—a mocking one, of
course.
“You don’t
have the capacity.”
“And Ryeonju
does?”
Jeok Ho’s
silence was the strongest affirmation. A flash of killing intent flickered in Thousand
Faced Manipulator’s eyes. A sword he couldn’t possess was one he must destroy.
But… now
wasn’t the time.
“Fine. At
this rate, we’ll be here till dawn. If you take the lead, I’ll finish it.”
“…Understood.”
Jeok Ho
nodded. Though reluctant to step in front of Thousand Faced Manipulator, he
couldn’t afford to drag things out any longer.
His blade
moved slowly. Tang Gunak watched the scene unfold without so much as blinking.
Was he out
of breath? He couldn’t tell. His entire body felt distant, his senses hazy, as
if they didn’t belong to him. He could barely sense the enemy before him.
But one
thing was clear—the weight of the flying daggers in his hand.
It was heavy.
These light
daggers felt as heavy as a thousand pounds to him now.
Was it
arrogance that led him here? No, probably not. But his inadequacy was
undeniable.
Eight daggers
remained in his grasp. Including the four he had been too exhausted to
retrieve, there were twelve in total—the Twelve Flying Daggers.
However.
‘It’s not
enough.’
Twelve
daggers weren’t sufficient to disrupt their movements. Just one more dagger. He
was short by just one.
It wasn’t an
easy task. Adding one more dagger was far harder than controlling all twelve
combined.
Even so—
‘I should
have done it.’
Regret
always came too late.
Tang Gunak
tightened his grip on the daggers. If he couldn’t stop his larger regrets, he
could at least prevent smaller ones. He wouldn’t die quietly, that much he
could ensure.
‘What’s
left… I will just leave it to the others.’
At that
moment, Jeok Ho charged like a bolt of lightning.
His movement
was straightforward, almost linear. Simple yet deadly—because Thousand Faced
Manipulator lurked behind him. That simple slash was, therefore, more lethal
than any other.
Swish!
Tang Gunak
released two daggers. They swirled in the air, intercepting Jeok Ho’s incoming
blade. Simultaneously, three more daggers closed in on Jeok Ho’s body,
restraining his movements.
The
remaining three daggers anticipated Thousand Faced Manipulator, who had kicked
off the ground from behind Jeok Ho, and intercepted him.
But—
Clang!
A cloud-like
burst of energy knocked all three daggers aside.
Tang Gunak
closed his eyes.
‘Just one
more.’
If only
there had been thirteen instead of twelve… he could have revived the forgotten
legend with his own hands.
“It’s been a
long fight, Poison King. Time to die.”
The voice
came from close by. Tang Gunak stood tall and resolute.
Kwaang!
A sudden,
deafening explosion echoed.
Tang Gunak
didn’t move. Having never experienced death, he couldn’t recognize its
sensation. Was this truly death? Or was it something else entirely?
Then, a
voice—both unfamiliar and familiar—called out.
“Glad I made
it in time.”
Tang Gunak
opened his eyes. A figure stood before him, their back turned. Tang Gunak’s
mouth fell open slightly.
“…You.”
The figure
turned their head slightly. Their usual stern expression, weighed down by
something heavy, was unmistakable.
“Sect Leader
Jongli?”
“I’m sorry
for putting you through so much trouble. My disciples seem to require a lot of
care.”
Jongli Gok,
the leader of Zhongnan Sect, spoke calmly.
“Since I’m late,
I’ll make sure this is resolved properly. Don’t be too harsh on me. Patriarch.”
Tang Gunak
found himself nodding unconsciously.
❀ ❀ ❀
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