Chapter 1892 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1892. So, You’re All Gathered Here. (1)❀ ❀ ❀

[Note: Biga, the author, made a mistake in this chapter, I'll leave this here for archives. If you are lazy, just read the revised version]

“Ugh….”

The scorching sunlight stabbed at his eyes. The thin, shabby tent they had hastily set up couldn’t possibly block the blazing sun.

‘Is it morning? Or…’

Barely regaining consciousness, Gwak Hoe reflexively raised a hand against the sunlight pouring onto his face.

“Urgh…”

A groan escaped him. All he did was lift an arm, yet it felt like his whole body was being crushed. He’d felt something similar right after the battle, but after half a day’s sleep, the backlash that hit him was beyond comparison.

“Ughhh…”

“Arghhh…”

And it seemed he wasn’t the only one suffering like this. Groans of the half-dead echoed from all around. Just from the sound of it, you’d think this wasn’t a barrack full of the relatively unscathed, but an improvised infirmary full of men about to die.

“I-I’m dying…”

“M-My leg… My leg’s broken, my leg….”

“Ugh…”

Among them, Gwak Hoe forced his eyelids open and clutched his splitting abdomen, groaning in pain.

‘…Still, I should be grateful.’

If he had to get up and actually do something in this state, even “hell” would be too soft a word. But the war was over. At least for today, he could rest in peace—

“Huh?”

And then, a strange sight caught his eyes.

*Why is the tent… coming closer…*

Crash!

Before he could even process the thought, the tent over his head collapsed with a thud, its fabric falling right on top of the Mount Hua disciples lying around.

“Argh! Wh-What the hell?!”

“An ambush?!”

Panicked, the Mount Hua disciples scrambled out from under the tent. What they came face to face with was someone wearing an expression of pure irritation—

“Huh?”

“What the—”

“Why isn’t it Cheong Myeong?”

Naturally, they had assumed only Cheong Myeong, with his demon-god-like scowl, would do such a thing. Staring dumbfounded, they instead found someone entirely unexpected, standing hands on hips, glaring down at them.

“S-Sasuk?”

“Sahyung? No, wait, why?”

Under their puzzled gazes, Baek Cheon coughed into his fist. Then, in a strangely affected tone, he spoke:

“The sun is…”

“The sun is?”

“Already high in the sky!”

The Mount Hua disciples’ faces twisted in horror.

“All of you lying around until this hour! Do you think you came here on a vacation? Back in my day, it wasn’t like this! Back in my day!”

“Sasuk, please…”

“…Has Cheong Myeong possessed him?”

“Just look at how awkward he sounds. Ugh.”

It somehow felt like watching a poorly done Peking opera, sending shivers through everyone. Goosebumps broke out across their skin.

“Please, just act like yourself, Sasuk.”

“Why on earth are you doing this?”

Baek Cheon cleared his throat again.

“Youngsters, once you’ve rested enough, you ought to get to work.”

That too was something Cheong Myeong might have said. It was just painfully awkward coming from him.

As they all stared at him in bewilderment—

“No! You bastard!”

Baek Sang, the last to crawl out, suddenly forgot his pain, leapt up, and jabbed a finger at Baek Cheon.

“Do you think we’ve been slacking off? We barely got half a day’s rest after nearly working ourselves to death!”

Baek Cheon’s eyes narrowed.

“Half a day?”

“Well… uh…”

Wilting under the pressure, Baek Sang averted his gaze.

“Strictly speaking… maybe a full day?”

He hunched like a dried squid, and the disciples’ expressions soured instantly.

“N-No, that’s not the point right now!”

Sensing his fellow disciples’ expectations turning into disappointment, Baek Sang desperately tried to explain himself. But once their gazes had soured, they showed no sign of softening.

“I’m the fool for expecting anything.”

“…If you’re going to back down that fast, why point fingers in the first place, Sasuk?”

“At least look him in the eye when you do it. This is just embarrassing.”

“Shut up, you brats!”

Baek Sang shouted, red-faced.

In truth, he had his own words to say. He could certainly hurl curses at Cheong Myeong’s unreasonable behavior. After all, wasn’t he now in the position of a sasuk? Even if it ended with him being kicked aside, the justification was on his side.

But unfortunately, the one standing before him now was his sahyung, Mount Hua’s undisputed head disciple. In authority, in status, in skill… he was someone Baek Sang could not even dream of contending with.

“Rest? Sure, rest is good. I’m not someone who’d deny you that, am I?”

“You sound like you are denying it…”

“You’re already scolding us.”

“Didn’t you never really let us rest anyway?”

“…Tch.”

Baek Cheon furrowed his brows, and the disciples quickly looked away.

‘I’d rather deal with Cheong Myeong.’

‘Why is this gentleman suddenly like this?’

‘After what he’s been through, we can’t even argue back. This is maddening.’

With one clean sweep, Baek Cheon crushed their faint stirrings of rebellion. After another awkward cough, he continued:

“Resting is fine. But work should come first, don’t you think?”

“…Work? The war is over.”

“Exactly.”

He turned his gaze toward the field. Following his eyes, they saw the wide plain stretched out before them. Some looked puzzled, but most understood at once.

“Ugh…”

“Well… yeah, it hurts, but…”

“We should still do it.”

Scratching their heads in embarrassment, they slowly dragged themselves up.

They might be battered, but they were alive. And all around them, countless fallen comrades still lay cold and abandoned on the ground.

To see that, yet seek comfort for oneself, such a person had no right to wear the taoist robes of Mount Hua.

“Yeah… guess we did rest plenty.”

“True. The sun’s already high.”

“You could’ve woken us sooner.”

Mumbling empty words, the Mount Hua disciples reluctantly strapped on their swords.

Watching them, Baek Cheon smiled faintly. And for a moment, it was as if the world brightened. That was how dazzling his smile was.

With that beautiful smile, Baek Cheon added:

“For reference, the Sect Leader has been gathering the fallen since morning.”

“…What?”

Their faces turned pale in an instant.

“Oh, and the elders as well.”

“Eek.”

“N-No way…”

“We’re screwed.”

Just moments ago, Baek Cheon’s smile had seemed infinitely dashing. Now, it felt like a devil’s grin.

“The last one to arrive, let’s have a little private talk. I’ve had quite a lot I’ve been wanting to say these days, and I think one unlucky fellow will be enough.”

The Mount Hua disciples instinctively snapped their heads toward the only one who could possibly object to such unfairness, Mount Hua’s second-in-command among the Baek disciples, Baek Sang.

But all they saw was Baek Sang’s back, already sprinting across the field, abandoning them without a second thought.

“That bastard!”

“He ditched his sahyungs?”

“You’ve got to pick someone worth trusting! Out of the way, I’m going first!”

In the end, the rest of them broke into a desperate stampede as well.

“Move!”

“Hey, you punk! Don’t you respect your sasuk at all?!”

“When your life’s on the line, who cares about titles!”

Their wild midday dash drew stunned stares from disciples of other sects.

“…That place is never quiet.”

“Tell me about it.”

And from behind the sprinting Mount Hua disciples, someone let out a quiet sigh.

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[tl note: Under this was the wrong part, but I'll leave it here for archives, in case someone gets curious later, haha. Read the correct one in the revised version.]

“Has everyone gathered?”

At Zhuge Zain’s words, those seated gave a silent nod.

Aside from a few empty seats, it looked much the same as before. Yet the brutality of the war showed plainly on every face gathered there. They were all heavily wounded.

Zhuge Zain swept his gaze over the assembly and nodded.

“Normally, this meeting should be presided over by the Alliance Leader himself. But due to severe internal injuries, he is unable to join us.”

“Injuries? Has he been gravely harmed…?”

At Jongli Gok’s question, Zhuge Zain shook his head.

“With a few days of focused recuperation, there should be no issue. In any case, as you all know, the Tang Family Patriarch, who normally chaired meetings in the Leader’s absence… has suffered an unfortunate end.”

At the mention of Tang Gunak, faces around the room darkened.

Not all had felt the same about him. Some respected him, some felt rivalry, others perhaps dislike. But as comrades who fought side by side, the only proper response to his death was solemn reverence and regret.

“So, for now, I propose we discuss the most urgent matters among those of us present.”

Those listening quietly nodded.

A war doesn’t end just because the battle is over. The hardest struggles always come after. If the pressing matters weren’t resolved swiftly, the martial world would be left groaning under its wounds for far longer.

“Indeed, that makes sense.”

“Yes, certainly.”

Zhuge Zain, who thought he had received agreement, opened his mouth with a stern expression

“First, the most urgent issue is the awarding of merit—”

“Haha!”

A dry laugh cut him off. Zhuge Zain’s displeasure showed plainly as he turned his gaze.

“Something amusing, Nokrim King?”

“Well, amusing may not be the word…”

Im Sobyeong opened his fan and lazily fanned himself.

“…Perhaps I should say it’s entertaining?”

Zhuge Zain’s face grew more rigid.

“Entertaining? And what’s so entertaining?”

“I don’t see why you need to know.”

“And if I insist?”

Im Sobyeong answered with a soft smile, in sharp contrast to Zhuge Zain’s severity.

“Well… seeing those who stayed quiet until now suddenly eager to put a foot forward the moment the war ends… it makes me think, perhaps the unorthodox sect is more honest in its own way.”

“You—!”

“Tsk.”

Murmurs of displeasure broke out around the room. Im Sobyeong, however, kept his ever-present grin.

Surprisingly, Zhuge Zain eased his expression and asked calmly:

“If that’s how it appears to you, it is a shame. Why, since Nokrim has also been active, do you want to be compensated appropriately?”

“Surely not. If a mere bandit dared shove his spoon into the table of the high and mighty, it is only natural that his neck would be sent flying.”

Their gazes locked in midair. Not openly hostile, but far from friendly.

“Then what is it you want to say?”

“It’s simple.”

Snap.

Im Sobyeong folded his fan and tapped the crown of his head with its end.

“Whether it’s merit or aftermath, those who ought to handle it should be the ones to handle it.”

“…You mean I have no authority?”

“Rather than authority…”

Im Sobyeong’s smile deepened.

“....it’s more that you lack qualification.”

A flash of killing intent flickered in Zhuge Zain’s eyes. Others wavered, unsure whether to intervene or wait. Then Im Sobyeong said smoothly:

“Hm. Seems he’s here.”

“…What?”

Zhuge Zain turned to follow Im Sobyeong’s gaze. At the entrance, the flap of the tent lifted, and a figure stepped in.

“So, you’re all gathered here.”

“…G-General?”

“You should’ve told me if something was happening. I would’ve come earlier.”

“B-But General… weren’t you still injured?”

“Ah, injured?”

Cheong Myeong scratched his chin.

“The fighting’s done. A few scratches on the body won’t kill me, and I’m hardly going to whine about sitting through a meeting.”

“.....”

“What? Am I not welcome here?”

“O-Of course not!”

Zhuge Zain hastily bowed his head, then ceded the head seat to him.

Cheong Myeong chuckled at the sight and sat down. The air shifted, the gazes that turned toward him carried a new, subtle tension.

Meeting each of their eyes in turn, Cheong Myeong smiled faintly and spoke:

“Well then… shall we begin?”

The looks fixed on him were filled with complex emotions.

[tl note: I swear it's so weird wkwk, I really remember that Zhuge Zain died with Tang Gunak lmao. Biga... you need to rest...]

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