Chapter 1921 - Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1921. What Is It That You Desire? (1)

Within a darkness so dense that one couldn’t distinguish any direction.

“Huuuk….”

Only a low sound of breathing echoed on endlessly.

How much time had passed?

Well, there was no way to know.

His senses, sharpened to their very limit, would not readily permit even the refuge called sleep. All he could do was suppress and restrain the nerves stretched taut enough to snap at any moment.

“Huuuk.”

Each time he inhaled, a thick, fishy scent of blood clung to him like glue.

Whose blood was it? Someone who died yesterday? Or someone who died the day before? That too, he couldn’t know. He couldn’t even remember since when the smell of blood had seeped into this body and refused to fade away.

It was nauseating.

The endless cycle, the fact that he himself couldn’t even close his eyes unless he held a sword in his hand, and… and all of this.

Would it ever end? No, did such a thing as an end even exist?

Within the space consumed by thick darkness, even an ashen sneer crumbled apart and scattered away. The only thing left behind was breathing.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale, and exhale again.

That endlessly repeating sound, enough to make one sick of it.

At that moment. A blinding light pierced into the perfect darkness. A pure white line appeared and split the darkness wide apart.

“Sword Saint!”

The face of the one who rushed in urgently while throwing aside the tent flap was filled with terror close to a scream.

For an instant, a dry laugh escaped before he could even hide it.

Wasn’t it absurd? A world where one had to be startled and terrified by light. Had he gone mad? Or had the world gone mad?

“Sword Saint! Sword Saint! I-it’s coming. It, it’s coming! Th-that thing….”

He was rambling incoherently without even knowing what he himself was saying, but the urgency alone was conveyed with absolute clarity.

“Sw-Sword Saint.”

Listening to that voice overflowing with desperation, he thought:

What was this man hoping for?

If he was that terrified, he only needed to run away. He only needed to shut his eyes, block his ears, and flee without looking back. Then why was he here, screaming and begging like this?

Because he was foolish? Or perhaps……

“I know.”

As though out of habit, a faint scoff slipped out. Yes. What difference was there? He too was in the same position.

‘Even running away is a privilege reserved for those whose hearts are at ease.’

[tl note: “속 편한” literally means “one whose insides/heart are comfortable.” It refers to people free from burdens, guilt, obligations, or emotional torment.]

Those who carried burdens couldn’t even flee. The things they themselves had chosen to shoulder endlessly clung to their ankles and dragged them down.

He tightened his grip around the sword.

His wounded body screamed, and it felt as though every bone in his body was wailing, but the Sword Saint ultimately forced himself upright.

Swallowing down the thick scent of blood that continuously lingered in his mouth, he brushed past the one standing before him and stepped outside the old tent.

The light stung his eyes.

Even though evening was approaching and only a faint light illuminated the world, to him even this was painfully bright.

The earth was desolate and barren. The only things visible were an ash-gray sky, reddish-brown soil, and…… The remnants of things that had once been human.

In the past, he had thought this:

That a place called hell would be somewhat more colorful, more tumultuous than this.

But now his thoughts had changed.

If hell truly existed, it probably wouldn’t look much different from this place. Because there could hardly be another sight more capable of driving a person insane than this one.

Those who screamed because they couldn’t overcome their fear were nothing unusual. There were countless others who, at the end of despair, collapsed and laughed as though they had lost their minds; others who clawed at their own heads and bodies because they no longer knew what to do.

Wasn’t it truly comedic?

He peeled apart his dried lips and let out a faded voice.

“What’s the situation?”

The man, who had been blankly staring at the Sword Saint as though overwhelmed, suddenly snapped back to his senses and answered.

“A report came in saying traces of his attack were discovered two li away. The direction is……”

[Tl note: Li. 리(里). Traditional East Asian unit of distance. One li in is roughly 500 meters, so it’s one kilometer.]

“It must be this place.”

“Yes.”

The Sword Saint slowly nodded.

Of course it was.

That thing wandered in search of people.

However—

“Only two li…….”

It seemed even those beggar bastards had died in far too great numbers. To think they failed to discover its trail before it approached this close.

“How… how should we proceed, Sword Saint?”

“What are you asking for?”

The Sword Saint’s eyes darkened heavily.

“Tell them to run. Like always. Anywhere at all. As far away as possible.”

“Then what about the gathering point?”

“The higher-ups will figure it out themselves.”

“But Sword Saint, if we do that……”

At that moment, the Sword Saint turned to look at the speaker. The instant their gazes met, the man trailed off and immediately lowered his head.

“I-I understand, Sword Saint. Forgive me.”

At the very least, upon this battlefield, the Sword Saint’s words were absolute. No, “absolute” was far too insufficient a word. Because here and now, this man was the only existence left.

“If you have time to babble, move. We won’t hold out for long.”

“Yes!”

The man who had practically prostrated himself sprang away like the wind. The Sword Saint didn’t spare him even a glance. He merely stared silently into the empty space before him.

An ash-gray sky and reddish-brown earth. Two worlds touching along a single line. At the end of the horizon, sharp as though drawn by a blade, something alien was moving.

Black, or red, or sometimes neither at all, but simply……

That movement born at the center of the horizon spread forth in an instant.

Voraciously. Violently, as though it would devour the world whole.

At last, gazing upon the black storm raging as though it might reach the very ends of the heavens, the Sword Saint gripped his sword.

No, in truth, he wasn’t gripping it. He was clinging to it.

Because if he did not hold a sword—if that thing most familiar and oldest to these hands was not with him—he wouldn’t even dare face that sight.

The black storm swallowed everything. Even the earth and sky alike seemed to be dragged into it.

What words existing in this world could possibly describe that scene in full? If one absolutely had to name it, then perhaps…… One would call it living despair.

Udeudeuk.

Without realizing it, strength entered the hand clutching the sword.

Yes. He was afraid.

To claim otherwise would be a lie. Every time he faced that sight, a terror that crushed and tore at his soul swallowed him whole.

No matter how much he steeled his mind and clenched his teeth, nothing changed. Even resolve firmer than Mount Tai, even will sharpened keen as a blade, was torn apart like paper before that despair.

All that remained was a tattered shell, and an inner coward who couldn’t bring himself to flee and thus faced reality instead.

“Huuuk.”

The storm, now large enough to completely fill his vision, raged as though it would tear his body apart, yet the Sword Saint’s gaze remained fixed on only one place.

Within the raging storm. Amidst the boiling chaos of all things beneath heaven, a lone white figure walked in silence.

Wasn’t it laughable?

Everything was horrifying beyond measure, yet the only one calm amidst all the scenery he himself had created was that very person. As though he alone detached from this world entirely.

But the Sword Saint could not do so. The instant he faced that white shadow, every part of him began to shake.

He couldn’t know whether what shook him was hatred, fear, or something else entirely.

He was simply terrified. So terribly afraid that he wished he could shut his eyes this very moment.

“So then…. I’m not exactly sane either.”

A smile twisted beyond all shape spread across his face.

How many times had this been now? Throwing himself toward that place.

It was something no one could possibly do without madness. Without desperately wishing for death, one likely couldn’t even attempt it.

But what did it matter?

Madness rose within the Sword Saint’s eyes.

“After all…. everyone’s already gone mad.”

Cheong Myeong stepped toward the white shadow.

He advances. Toward death.

He advances. In order to survive.

The raging storm of qi battered at his robes and sent his long-grown hair streaming upward in reverse.

Taking another step, he muttered to himself alone.

“That is why I stand here.”

Because he knew retreat was closer to the end than advancing ever was. Grinding his teeth, he faced despair head-on. Even as his hands trembled with fear and terror constricted his heart, he forced his eyes wide open until they bled and stared directly at it.

“Yes. That is what I am.”

But he could not know.

No matter how many times he faced it, no matter how many times he resisted, in the end he still could not understand.

“Then what about you?”

The Sword Saint pointed the tip of his sword toward the white shadow.

It was certainly there before his eyes.

A calamity wearing human form.

Yet in Cheong Myeong’s eyes, nothing could be seen.

The only thing visible to him was an immense emptiness.

“Why are you standing there?”

His adversary. The nightmare of the world.

He approaches.

As always, illuminating the world with vacant pupils, bearing a presence not belonging to the mortal realm.

They faced one another, yet did not truly face one another.

Cheong Myeong looked at him, yet he still did not look at Cheong Myeong. Perhaps he wasn’t looking at anything at all.

The reason facing that man was terrifying may not have been merely because of his overwhelming strength.

He had fought against him. He had screamed while suffering countless wounds. He had spat out everything he had, poured everything forth, and collided against him with all his power.

And yet, even now, the Sword Saint still did not understand him.

Neither the reason for that bottomless malice, nor the purpose of that incomprehensible hostility. There was nothing he could know.

[Malice. Agui. 악의(惡意). Hostility. Jeogui. 적의(敵意).]

“What is it that you desire?” [tl note: the title of this arc, let’s goo]

As always, no answer ever came. Instead, the raging storm descended upon him as though alive. A gigantic and black malice, filled with a revolting stench of blood.

This was why they faced one another yet could never truly face one another. Like gears that had slipped out of alignment, no matter how they pressed against each other, they would never engage.

Emotionless eyes and an expressionless face. Yet strangely enough, it was painfully palpable. The emptiness of a soul so hollow it seemed already worn away to nothing.

The fact that the source of such an overwhelmingly mighty existence was an equally perfect absence made it impossible for the Sword Saint to endure.

[Absence. Bujae. 부재(不在).]

“Heavenly Demon!”

The Sword Saint’s blade swung with all its might toward the dense malice filling his vision. It was closer to a scream.

A resistance against something that could not be opposed. A desperate struggle against an ending already decided.

Crimson flowers bloomed in wild profusion. Utterly frail and desperate.

✿ ✿ ✿

A bowstring drawn to its absolute limit screamed as though it would snap at any moment.

Kkiiiiik. Kkiiiik.

The scar-covered hand gripping the bowstring trembled violently, unable to withstand the tension placed upon it. Yet even so, it endured.

A little more, a little more, just a little….

Piiiiiing!

At last, the instant the bowstring was released, the arrow shot forth and split through the air with a supple whistle.

The reindeer realized something was flying toward it and tried to flee, but the arrow mercilessly buried itself into its throat.

Kwadeuk!

“Got it!”

The reindeer leapt violently in place, then began wildly bounding away with the arrow lodged in its neck. At once, the young man wrapped head to toe in thick beast hide threw himself after it with all his strength.

“Huff, huff, huff……”

Every time he exhaled ragged breaths, white steam poured from his mouth like smoke. The pursuit continued for quite a long while between trees whose needle-like leaves stood sharply erect, a beast running to survive, and a human who had to kill that beast in order to live.

And at last—

Thud.

Unable to endure any longer, the reindeer collapsed. The hunter leapt atop the fallen reindeer and, with a dagger pulled from his chest, slit its throat in a single motion.

After twitching briefly in convulsions, the reindeer finally went limp.

“Huuuk!”

His breath had risen all the way to his throat, but there was no time to rest.

The hunter quickly slit open the reindeer’s belly. Through the long incision, entrails spilled out together with warm blood.

The heat made the hunter’s face twist faintly on its own.

In this land of brutal cold, even a single drop of blood or a scrap of innards was precious. It wasn’t as though he truly wanted to discard such valuable entrails onto the ground like this. But right now, there was no other choice.

After emptying out the insides completely to reduce the weight, the hunter grabbed the reindeer’s legs and dragged it away. Without setting a direction or destination, as though his sole purpose was simply to get away from this place immediately.

“Kkeuha.”

Sweating profusely, the young man finally threw the reindeer down. Then, with hurried yet practiced hands, he began skinning it this time.

Swish, swish.

He tightly rolled up the hide he had peeled away and slung it over his shoulder. Yet perhaps he still couldn’t completely abandon his attachment to it—he quickly sliced off a chunk of thigh meat from the grotesque-looking skinned reindeer and clenched it in his mouth.

Soon after, he began running again without even looking back.

Once more, he sprinted until his chest felt ready to burst.

Then, the cry of a massive bear echoed out. The man immediately ran even faster.

Huff huff huff huff!

Only after confirming that the cry he heard again hadn’t grown any closer did the man finally collapse heavily to the ground. Strength had completely left his legs.

“Haa…. Haa. Haa….”

Absentmindedly, he gulped down breaths. Yet even then, he never let go of the reindeer hide in his hand.

This place where winds blowing from the north stole away human souls. The frozen earth welcoming winter quietly froze even the man’s rough breathing.

[Frozen earth. Dongto. 동토(凍土). Literally “frozen land” or “permafrost.” Often used poetically for harsh northern wastelands.]

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