Chapter 1879 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1879 ‘The me in the past’ and ‘him, in the future’. (4) ❀ ❀ ❀

Even though everything about him stood in complete opposition, even though it was hateful just to face him and breathe the same air, so hateful it made his body tremble… he had no choice but to acknowledge it.

He had no choice but to recognize the obsession of that monster, seemingly forged from malice itself.

Cheong Myeong let out a faint sigh and asked.

“Why do you hate the world so much?”

Even before the thought had passed through his mind, the words flowed out. At Cheong Myeong’s question, Jang Ilso let out a laugh, as if it were absurd.

“Do I need a reason?”

Jang Ilso’s face twisted grotesquely.

“There’s no reason needed to hate filth, and no reason needed to stay away from revolting things. So why would I need a reason to loathe what’s ugly?”

Cheong Myeong muttered, his voice turning darker.

“…So, to your eyes, this world is nothing but ugliness. So much that you can’t bear it.”

“That’s right. Exactly.”

A smile rose on Jang Ilso’s blood-soaked face. Cheong Myeong slightly shook his head with a troubled expression.

“You’re completely insane.”

“You say that like it’s new.”

Jang Ilso shrugged. Even though he looked like a mess, somehow, he still appeared strangely cheerful.

“Then what about you? To your eyes, does this world look nothing but beautiful? Surely not?”

Cheong Myeong didn’t answer. No, he couldn’t.

No one knew better than Cheong Myeong just how ugly this world could be. Perhaps, to him, it had been particularly cruel.

To his eyes, the world was no different from flowers blooming on Mount Hua’s corpses. A world where the ones who had stabbed swords into the backs of those he cherished most were now enjoying those blossoms and devouring the fruit. That was how the world appeared to Cheong Myeong.

Had he never wanted to burn it all down?

Cheong Myeong thought for a moment, then chuckled quietly. Jang Ilso tilted his head slightly at the sight.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just funny.”

Cheong Myeong let out a dry laugh.

If we’re talking about madness, was he really less mad than Jang Ilso?

To Cheong Myeong, Jang Ilso was like his reflection in a distorted mirror. Facing him always made Cheong Myeong reevaluate himself.

The past, the present, and the future.

It might be an absurd thought, but perhaps… this man is the one completing Cheong Myeong.

As the silence stretched on, Jang Ilso gave a short laugh.

“You’re not exactly denying it.”

“…”

“Then why are you holding back?”

Cheong Myeong looked up at the sky without speaking. Oddly enough, laughter kept wanting to bubble up. He had never imagined he’d say something like this.

“Because I’ve become an adult.”

When Cheong Mun was around, Cheong Myeong had always been a child. It had been possible then. He could afford to be honest with his desires, like Jang Ilso.

But not anymore. Cheong Mun no longer existed in this world.

And so, now it was Cheong Myeong’s responsibility.

“This world… is disgusting. Sometimes it’s so revolting I feel like I might retch. No, to be honest, it’s hard to keep from throwing up every single moment.”

“You understand it well.”

“But that’s not all there is.”

Cheong Myeong’s gaze drifted past Jang Ilso, toward a certain point in the distance. Toward someone putting their life on the line to come here. Someone who had just barely regained a chance at life, yet was ready to throw it away again without hesitation.

“You see them, over there?”

Not just Baek Cheon.

They were here, those who proved that the world wasn’t only cruel.

Cheong Myeong’s fellow disciples had all died on Great Mountain. Without ever seeing the world they longed for. Perhaps they never even realized their wishes had been fulfilled as they died in vain.

But if the price of those deaths was the radiant lives of these people.…

“….then it wasn’t completely worthless. Right?”

Even Cheong Myeong didn’t know who the question was truly meant for. It just so happened that the one in front of him now was Jang Ilso.

At Cheong Myeong’s question, Jang Ilso shook his head with a grunt.

“Like I said, we just don’t match.”

Despite the words sounding like nonsense, Jang Ilso didn’t harshly criticize or mock him. Perhaps it was because he, too, understood that a person’s thoughts don’t change just from a few words exchanged.

“What about you?”

“…What?”

“Jang Ilso, to you, does this world truly hold nothing but cruelty?”

Jang Ilso went silent.

Memories flickered through his mind, moments when the world hadn’t seemed so wretched. The person he had already lost.

“Ha.....”

But it lasted only a brief moment. All of it faded away meaninglessly, along with something small inside Jang Ilso.

“Always preaching. This is why Taoists are so exhausting.”

He sneered and glared at Cheong Myeong.

“The moment they think they have the upper hand, they can’t stop trying to lecture others.”

“….The upper hand, huh. I wish I really had it.”

Cheong Myeong chuckled faintly.

And then Jang Ilso saw it.

Black, dead blood dripping from Cheong Myeong’s mouth.

“Cough! Cough!”

Every time Cheong Myeong’s body convulsed with a heavy cough, thick black blood splattered onto the ground with a wet splat.

At the same time, the alien pressure that had been surrounding Cheong Myeong weakened. Yes, this looked as though his life force was slipping away. Jang Ilso frowned unconsciously at the incomprehensible, sudden change. [saeng gi, 생기(生氣)]

“Qi deviation…? No, is it the reverse?”

“Cough!”

Coughing violently again, Cheong Myeong wiped the blood from around his mouth with his sleeve without care. A faint bitterness lingered at the corners of his now-clean lips.

“As you can see.”

His mind had reached the place it sought, but his body had not yet attained a level to match it. Normally, the body follows enlightenment in time, so before long, it would catch up to Cheong Myeong’s spirit…. but for now, it was still beyond reach.

He had essentially forced a level of enlightenment his body could not yet handle.

Given the current circumstances, it was brutal to endure, but if it was the price for shackling himself, then it was still cheap.

“…Is this what they call descent of a god?” [tl note: gangsin, 강신(降神): In demonic engineering, it refers to summoning and invoking a god through spells or incantations. In Christianity, it is akin to revelation, meaning a moment when God reveals Himself.]

“Something like that.”

“What a bizarre thing you’ve done.”

Jang Ilso nodded as if he finally understood. If what Cheong Myeong had done was a form of ‘gangsin’—inviting a divine state or enlightenment to descend—then the backlash to his body must be immense.

Cheong Myeong had already been in a half-dead state. To then also suffer the backlash of a divine descent, the shock would be indescribable.

Jang Ilso chuckled softly.

“Well now… do you have any inner energy left?”

“....Would I?”

“Oh dear, how unfortunate. But don’t worry.”

Jang Ilso grinned wide.

“I’m in the same boat.”

“Yeah, what a boast. You idiot.”

“Hahaha. Aren’t we both idiots? You’re in tatters yourself.”

Cheong Myeong being in the worst possible condition didn’t mean any particular advantage for Jang Ilso. Now he was ruined as much as he could be.

His internal energy was nearly completely depleted. His body was barely holding itself upright. Even if he somehow won, it was doubtful whether he’d survive.

And yet...

As if by prior agreement, the two averted their gazes momentarily to glance around. Everyone was fighting with their lives on the line. The feelings they had might differ, but the conclusion they reached was the same.

“It’s been a long road.”

“Yeah. Miserably long.”

Soothing their creaking bodies, they each took a step forward. Just walking a single step felt like dragging a mountain for a thousand miles. Even so, Cheong Myeong did not stop.

Jang Ilso, too, walked toward him.

They walked a long, grueling path toward each other, as if reenacting the lives they had lived up to this point.

Step. Step.

Dragging their staggering bodies, they finally reached, one step away from their equal.

Cheong Myeong lifted his head. Jang Ilso did the same. They stopped at a distance that was within arm’s reach and looked at each other’s eyes.

They hadn’t exchanged any particular words, and of course, there was no agreement between them. But both already knew, how this battle had to end.

Shrrk.

Cheong Myeong slid his sword back into its sheath. Jang Ilso smirked.

“Pretty confident, huh? Even though I’m a martial artist specializing in fists.”

“There’s no other way.”

Cheong Myeong bared his teeth.

“Cutting your throat with a sword wouldn’t bring me any satisfaction.”

“Haha! This is why I like you.”

Suddenly, Jang Ilso untied something from his waist and held it out toward Cheong Myeong. Cheong Myeong muttered in disbelief.

“.....Alcohol?”

“It seems the heavens gave me one last favor. It survived all this without breaking.”

Cheong Myeong let out a hollow laugh.

Well. Cheong Myeong didn’t know. He couldn’t tell what was going on in Jang Ilso’s head, offering him alcohol in a moment like this. He also couldn’t agree that it was a favor from the heavens.

If the bottle hadn’t broken during all that chaos, perhaps it was because the heavens were mocking them, nothing more.

“Was that necessary?”

“Well, our last drinking session wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, was it? But right now… I think this drink might taste extraordinary.”

Jang Ilso smiled gently.

“Don’t you think so?”

Cheong Myeong stared at him in silence, then took the bottle without a word. Most of the contents had already leaked out. Only a few gulps remained.

He popped the cork, tilted his head, and drank.

Swish.

After downing about half, he turned the bottle with a flick and handed it back to Jang Ilso. Without hesitation, Jang Ilso drank the rest in one go.

“Whew.”

Draining what little remained, Jang Ilso grinned and asked.

“So, how was it?”

Cheong Myeong couldn’t help but smile at his shamelessness.

“Yeah. Damn good.”

“See? I told you I was right.”

The two looked at each other and shared a smile.

What began as a small grin slowly grew. Like air leaking out, their laughter turned into something closer to a dry chuckle. And for a moment, their eyes met, locked in silent understanding.

Both their fists flew at each other’s faces.

Bugh!

It was hard to believe these were the fists of the swordsman vying for the title of the strongest under heaven, and a martial artist claiming that same title with his fists, so weak were they. And yet, they were more than strong enough to bring down the other, already crumbling, body.

Both their heads snapped back. Their bodies bent almost to the point of collapse.

Thud.

At the same time, they each stepped back. The moment their feet touched the ground, they kicked off and lunged at each other with fists again.

Bugh!

Fists smashed into faces once more. Even as their heads were knocked aside, their eyes met in the air.

They both knew what was in the other’s gaze.

They wouldn't back down.

It had gone on long enough. Now, until one of them stopped breathing, neither would back down. Only one would still be standing here in the end.

A chilling thrill ran down their spines.

The helplessness of their dying bodies, and yet, from their chests surged a fierce, inexplicable emotion as their fists once again flew toward each other.

Kwang!

Blood burst violently from both their bodies, falling like cold rain onto the sorrowful earth below.

Next Chapter

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