Chapter 1892 (revised ver.) – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

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

“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.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Has everyone gathered?”

At Pungyeong Singae’s words, the seated people slowly nodded their heads.

Their faces were all equally heavy and sunken.

It couldn’t be helped.

Even if this meeting had been convened in haste, the lineup of those gathered was far too meager. When the war first began, more than twice this number had assembled for council. Thinking of that, no one could possibly relax their expressions.

Of course, there were those absent due to injuries or personal reasons. But their presence would never truly fill the void left by those who were gone forever.

After scanning the room once, Pungyeong Singae gave a small nod.

“Originally, this meeting should have been presided over by the Alliance Leader, but due to severe internal injuries, he could not attend.”

“Internal injuries… has he perhaps suffered grave wounds?”

At Jongli Gok’s question, Pungyeong Singae shook his head.

“It is nothing so dire. Since it is a form of internal damage, with some rest he will recover fully.”

“That is at least a relief.”

“In such circumstances, the meeting would normally have been led by Tang Patriarch.”

At the mention of Tang Gunak, everyone’s faces darkened for a moment.

Not everyone had felt the same about Tang Gunak. Some may have held him in affection, others in subtle rivalry, and still others in dislike.

But as comrades who had fought side by side, the only possible attitude toward his death was solemn respect and grief.

“Since the Tang Patriarch is also no longer with us, I have no choice but to preside over this meeting.”

“Hmm.”

“So then, I suggest we first discuss the urgent matters among those present here.”

The listeners quietly nodded.

A war doesn’t end the moment the fighting ceases. The harder battles often begin only after. If urgent issues were left unresolved, the martial world would suffer the wounds of war for even longer.

“But…”

“Just among ourselves?”

A hesitant voice arose from among the seated.

At that, everyone turned to look at one another.

Wudang was absent. Considering the devastation they had suffered, that was only natural. In fact, beyond that, Wudang probably had yet to even decide who should represent their sect now.

Shaolin was, of course, absent, as were Mount Qingcheng, Emei, and Kongtong.

The Peng, Zhuge, and Moyong families were naturally not present either. From the Tang family, Tang Pae—who had temporarily inherited the position of family head—was in attendance. From the Namgung family, Namgung Myung had come in place of Namgung Dowi, who was gravely injured.

In the end, those present were only Nokrim King, the Sect Leaders of Zhongnan and Beggars’ Union, along with the Tang family’s acting patriarch and the Namgung elder. That was all.

Even if this was merely to discuss postwar matters, the burden of responsibility weighed heavily on such a small group.

“If the Alliance Leader’s injuries are not too severe, perhaps once he recovers—”

“Unfortunately, we do not have that time. Urgent matters are piled up before us.”

Tang Pae, who had tentatively raised the idea, clicked his tongue and nodded. He, too, knew how pressing the issues were.

“But… is this really all right? With just us?”

The faces of those who doubted their own qualifications grew stiff. It wasn’t that they were unfit to represent their sects, but most of them had never before been involved in deciding the grand affairs of the Alliance.

With the central figures gone, it was only natural that a vague unease should creep in.

“Haa.”

Jongli Gok let out a short sigh.

Among them, the only ones with any real weight were him and Pungyeong Singae. But Pungyeong Singae had already stepped down as sect leader, and Jongli Gok himself had difficulties taking the forefront.

Still, if things were as they were… there was no other choice—

Just as Jongli Gok was about to speak again—

“Fufufufu.”

From beside him came a subtly self-satisfied laugh.

“What the…”

“If it’s come to this, then there’s no helping it. Fufufufu.”

One man suddenly jumped to his feet and strode forward.

“Come now, don’t worry! Do you not have the strategist of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance right here?”

“…”

Everyone stared blankly at Im Sobyeong.

“The Alliance Leader is injured, the General’s practically on his deathbed, and the Division Leaders were all butchered together….”

His gaze flicked between Pungyeong Singae and Jongli Gok.

“One is a husk with no official rank, so he doesn’t count. And the other one….”

“The other one?”

“Oh, please. To think Zhongnan would be deciding the Alliance’s affairs. As the Outer Hall Lord of Mount Hua, I cannot permit such a disgrace!”

“…Outer Hall Lord of Mount Hua? You mean the bandit?”

“Ahem.”

When Jongli Gok spoke in exasperation, Im Sobyeong snapped open his fan and fluttered it at his face with a smirk.

“Silence, silence. You still don’t seem to know where the power lies.”

“.....”

“As it stands, having received the full transfer of authority from the General, I alone must manage the Heavenly Comrade Alliance! Hahahaha! There is no other wa—kkuweegh!”

At that instant, a shoe came flying through the tent and smashed into the back of the Nokrim King’s head. Im Sobyeong’s face crashed into the table, his fan bending like a sickle in his hand.

“Honestly… who else but a bandit? I can’t take my eyes off him for a moment.”

“…”

“G-General!”

“Are you all right, Dojang?”

As the tent flaps opened, everyone shot to their feet at the sight of Cheong Myeong entering.

There wasn’t a soul there who didn’t know what a hellish battle Cheong Myeong had fought and how grievously he’d been wounded. To see him walking in on his own feet, it was only natural their eyes went wide.

“Your injuries?”

At Jongli Gok’s low-voiced question, Cheong Myeong shrugged.

“What, you expect me to whine about a few scratches?”

“…Anyone else would already be dead.”

“Well, I’m not exactly ordinary.”

Cheong Myeong nudged Im Sobyeong’s butt aside with his foot and sat in the chair that Namgung Myung quickly pulled out for him.

“Thanks. Ahh, as expected, only you, Elder, can be relied upon.”

“Haha… you flatter me.”

Seated, Cheong Myeong swept his gaze around the room and nodded.

“Well then… shall we begin?”

Everyone found themselves nodding in unison.

Next Chapter

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