Chapter 1865 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1865. Yeah. Go Ahead, Try to Kill Me. (5) ❀ ❀ ❀

“…Are you insane?”

Baek Sang shouted in bewilderment. The sudden, completely unexpected interference made him momentarily forget there was an enemy right in front of him.

“Cut the crap and just hold your sword properly!”

Yu Gong cursed harshly and shot Baek Sang a sharp glare.

“Wait, why...”

“Why, you dumb bear?! Those bastards have figured everything out—do you think I’ll get away scot-free?”

Yu Gong bared his teeth at the speechless Baek Sang.

It would take Evil Tyrant Alliance only a few hours at most to realize Yu Gong had betrayed them. After that, the rest was as predictable as fire burning dry wood.

If the world falls into Evil Tyrant Alliance’s hands, there will be no place to run. No, running wouldn’t even be an option. Yu Gong’s child is still in Hainan, and Evil Tyrant Alliance knows that well—so where could he possibly flee?

“Damn it…”

This is why he never wanted to get involved. All he wanted was to look away.

Those who meddle in affairs beyond their place are doomed to destruction. Yu Gong had come to that truth time and again while watching Kangho. So why now, with no shred of chivalry left in him, had he done something so reckless and unsustainable?

“Aaargh! Damn it all!”

Either way, there’s no turning back now.

Baek Cheon’s judgment was correct. If Diancang is tied down like that, Heavenly Comrade Alliance has no chance of winning. Observing from a third-party perspective, Yu Gong could judge the situation even more objectively.

There was only one option left: to get the people here out and free Diancang no matter what. If they failed, then not just Yu Gong, but his family left behind in Hainan, would all be doomed.

But… was that really the only reason?

Fwoosh!

Yu Gong swung the cheap iron sword in his hand with irritation.

“They’re coming!”

“Damn it!”

The warriors of Evil Tyrant Alliance, startled by Yu Gong’s unexpected ambush, suddenly exploded with killing intent. Then, all at once, they screamed and charged at Baek Sang and Yu Gong.

“You vermin bastard!”

Chaang!

He put all his strength into blocking the incoming swords. But even before a few exchanges could pass, his limbs were already sluggish and disoriented.

Yu Gong panted heavily.

‘I’ve gotten so…’

It wasn’t just because the enemy was strong. Yu Gong himself was weak. No—he had become weak.

‘When was the last time I trained?’

Back when he was in Hainan, training was as natural as eating or sleeping. But ever since leaving Hainan, he hadn’t willingly swung a sword even once.

Because he’d lost the reason to polish his sword.

Of course, even in the past, Yu Gong may not have had a clear reason.

But still—there had been something. Just the fact that he bore the name of Hainan laid a clear path ahead of him.

Maybe what he’d lost wasn’t a life… but a path.

Fwoosh!

There was no time to dwell on such thoughts. A blade wrapped in bluish energy was flying straight for Yu Gong’s face.

The moment he realized it was too late to dodge, something flashed through his mind.

Kaang!

Just then, Baek Sang’s sword came flying like lightning and struck the blade away in an instant.

“Get a grip, damn it!”

Yu Gong only nodded in response.

Baek Sang noticed Yu Gong’s expression was a bit strange, but he didn’t have the luxury to worry about it.

“Hyaaaaah!”

Baek Sang’s sword split into dozens of arcs and swept through the enemies.

Rather than aiming coldly for their lives, the slashes carried a clear sense of intimidation—flashy, but lacking real substance.

Still, in this situation, that kind of swordplay was enough to take the wind out of the enemy’s sails. No cat wants to get scratched by a mouse it already has in its claws—and to these foes, Baek Sang and Yu Gong looked like cornered mice.

As the enemies backed off slightly and widened the distance, Baek Sang growled through clenched teeth, sweat pouring down his face.

“Goddamn bastards!”

His mind raced.

He might just be able to keep their attention with his skills. But to get Baek Cheon and all the children out, he would have to block every single opening.

That was utterly impossible.

‘Maybe…’

What if he only saved Baek Cheon?

That fleeting thought was quickly dismissed. It was a thought he should never have entertained. If forced to give up someone, it had to be Baek Cheon—even if that was the outcome Baek Sang dreaded most.

“A swordsman of Mount Hua must do that.”

Baek Sang’s hand, gripping his sword, trembled faintly.

He wasn’t afraid of making a choice. What terrified him was the possibility that he’d fail to save either—and die in vain.

As Baek Sang struggled under the crushing weight in his head, Yu Gong was, oddly enough, feeling strangely detached—as if he were floating.

It was a feeling of emptiness utterly inappropriate for a battlefield where lives were on the line. Perhaps that’s why he noticed a movement—something he would have completely missed under normal circumstances.

Among the Evil Tyrant Alliance warriors who had surrounded them in a wide formation, one began to move stealthily—just enough for Yu Gong to catch it in the corner of his eye. The direction was toward their rear.

Perhaps he was aiming to strike Baek Sang or Yu Gong from behind. But Yu Gong instinctively sensed exactly where that warrior’s feet were headed.

Fwoosh.

At that moment, as if on cue, the Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior dashed backward. Just as Yu Gong had predicted—his target was Baek Cheon, who had lost consciousness.

Yu Gong, before even realizing it, pushed off the ground with all his strength.

“Ah!”

“No, stop!”

The young disciples of Diancang, who tried desperately to block the enemy, were effortlessly flung aside by a single blow from the warrior.

And in the blink of an eye, Yu Gong had reached Baek Cheon’s side. It was a movement so instinctual, even he didn’t understand it.

‘Why…?’

Confusion filled Yu Gong’s eyes.

The Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior who had knocked away the disciples now brought his blade down toward Yu Gong.

Yu Gong clenched his teeth and raised his sword.

Clang!

Yu Gong’s cheap iron sword snapped in half under the weight of the warrior’s thick blade. The heavy weapon split his shoulder and tore into his chest.

“Grrk…”

Fwaaaash!

A torrent of blood burst out.

Yet Yu Gong, instead of collapsing with a groan, reached out and grabbed hold of the enemy standing in front of him.

“You damn fool?”

The Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior tried to shove Yu Gong’s head away like swatting a fly, but even as his knees buckled, Yu Gong refused to let go.

“Hmm?”

A flicker of something passed through the Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior’s eyes as he looked at Yu Gong.

And for good reason. Even while his face went deathly pale and his pupils trembled with the instinctive fear of death, the strength of Yu Gong’s grip remained astonishing—far too strong for someone on the brink of death.

“Look at this insect, flailing around in his final moments.”

Thrust!

The blade, pulled from Yu Gong’s chest, was stabbed straight through his abdomen.

Yu Gong couldn’t even scream. His entire body trembled like a leaf in the wind. His hand, which had been clutching the enemy, finally lost strength.

Thud.

At last, his body crumpled.

“Ha…”

The Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior stepped over Yu Gong’s collapsed form and lowered his sword to Baek Cheon’s neck.

“So, this is the crippled bastard you were so eager to protect, huh?”

Baek Sang watched the entire scene unfold, his face vacant and hollow. Though it had all happened in mere moments, it felt like watching the events of a thousand years.

Yu Gong’s bloodied, fallen form. Baek Cheon, looking peacefully asleep. And the Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior turning toward him with a sneer, sword pressed against Baek Cheon’s neck.

None of it felt real.

“Then take a good, hard look.”

The Evil Tyrant Alliance warrior bared his teeth in a chilling grin.

“Watch closely as this bastard’s head gets cut off.”

Fwaaaash!

As the sword slashed down, a stream of red blood sprayed into the air. Baek Sang collapsed to his knees on the spot.

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Piiiiiing!

A sword, swirling with crimson energy, came rushing toward a pale neck. The target jerked their head at the last second, and the blade narrowly grazed past.

Fwoosh!

But it wasn’t over yet. The energy around the blade suddenly extended, slicing into the pale skin like it was biting down.

Drip.

Dark crimson blood ran down Jang Ilso’s white neck.

Shraaaak!

At the same time, a blue palm strike shot out in a straight line toward the sword.

Fwoosh!

As Cheong Myeong poured more energy into the sword and braced for impact, the palm strike—flying straight just moments ago—suddenly twisted in midair into a zigzag pattern and struck not the blade, but the hand holding it.

Kuung!

Crack!

A deafening crash, followed by the sound of something breaking, rang out.

But immediately upon impact, Cheong Myeong spun his body and brought his left elbow down toward Jang Ilso’s right arm. Jang Ilso quickly withdrew and countered.

Cheong Myeong and Jang Ilso’s elbows collided head-on in midair.

Baaang!

A dull, sickening thud echoed—a sound that made the listener’s hair stand on end.

Crack!

Apparently once wasn’t enough—their elbows clashed again in quick succession.

Tap.

The first to withdraw from this stubborn contest of pride was Jang Ilso. Unlike Cheong Myeong—who wouldn’t bat an eye even if his left arm were torn off—Jang Ilso was a martial artist who relied on his fists. Even if he could severely wound Cheong Myeong, sacrificing an arm was not an option he could easily accept.

Kuung!

As if he had expected that decision all along, Cheong Myeong charged at the retreating Jang Ilso.

Fwaaaash!

Screeee—!

The sword slashing down as it chased, and the fist sweeping up in retreat—collided midair with overwhelming force.

Kwaaaaaaaaaaang!

A deafening explosion tore through the air like it would shred eardrums. Both of them were thrown backward, reeling from the impact.

Splurt.

Blood burst from Cheong Myeong’s mouth.

On Jang Ilso’s hand—unable to fully withstand the sharp force of the sword—another wound opened up, exposing pale bone.

Cheong Myeong barely managed to stabilize himself as his body threatened to collapse. He reached out with one foot to charge again—but instead, staggered forward.

“…Huff.”

Breathing heavily and low, Cheong Myeong suddenly turned his head as if he had just seen something he shouldn’t have.

His gaze stretched into the distance.

A place far, far away—completely removed from this battlefield.

‘What is that?’

An unbearable, strange sensation gripped him. No—more than a feeling. A premonition. It was dark, ominous, and chilling—like something he had once felt long ago…

“Hmmm.”

It was Jang Ilso’s faint, amused hum that pulled Cheong Myeong out of his daze. Wearing a subtly unpleasant smile, Jang Ilso flicked the blood from his hand.

“You’ve got the luxury to get distracted with me right in front of you?”

Only then did Cheong Myeong’s gaze slowly return to Jang Ilso.

“You’re starting to irritate me a little.”

Cheong Myeong looked at him blankly and replied:

“Irritate?”

“.....”

“You should be honored I’m even entertaining you. Filthy little evil sect bastard.”

“You really never know when to shut up…”

Jang Ilso laughed and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. Seeing his exaggerated gesture, Cheong Myeong also let out a dry chuckle.

Despite his words, Cheong Myeong respected this man more than anyone. If he himself had been in Jang Ilso’s position… could he have achieved as much?

‘Probably not.’

Even if we leave aside his innate disposition, there was no doubt—Jang Ilso was extraordinary. If Cheong Myeong hadn’t come back from the dead to stand here now, this man might well have conquered the world.

Even if that world was doomed to burn.

That realization led to another question.

Was it truly right to stand in Jang Ilso’s way?

Or maybe… was his presence here predetermined by the will of the world?

‘…Who knows.’

No matter how much he wracked his brain, the answer to something this convoluted was beyond him.

Cheong Myeong might be a Taoist, but he was not one to chase after the Path. He simply did what was in front of him. That was all.

“Looks like you’re deep in thought.”

“….”

“Well, I suppose you would be. The outcome’s becoming clearer, after all.”

“Yeah. It is. I can see myself kicking your severed head across the field.”

When Cheong Myeong answered, Jang Ilso grinned, showing his teeth.

“You’re weakened. Think you can still manage that?”

“You’re the weak one. You couldn't bear it, so you just threw it away.”

“.....”

“At least I don’t do things like that. I’m not as feeble as you.”

A brief flicker passed through Jang Ilso’s eyes.

“Is that so?”

His gaze curved into a softer arc than usual—but strangely, it felt far more unsettling than ever before.

“You talk like you’re something special… but will you really be able to back those words up?”

He pointed his finger in a specific direction.

Cheong Myeong’s eyes instinctively followed—and his body hurled itself forward with explosive speed, almost like a spring-loaded reaction.

Fwaaaash!

From the tip of Jang Ilso’s finger, a ring shot out like a bullet—heading straight toward one spot.

At the end of its trajectory…

…was Yoon Jong, locked in a chaotic fight with an enemy.

But no matter how fast Cheong Myeong was, he could not move faster than the launched qi.

“SAHYUUUUUUNG!”

Cheong Myeong’s scream was raw—nearly a seizure of panic. Yoon Jong flinched and turned his head.

In that instant—

“Huh?”

CRAAAACK!

Jang Ilso’s ring, tearing through the air, pierced straight through Yoon Jong’s body.

Next Chapter

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