Chapter 1924 - Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1924. What Is It That You Desire? (4)

The sharp tip of the sword moved slowly.

The cold air of dawn split apart before that movement. Slowly, yet distinctly.

And so the sword moved, and moved again. It was light.

It was smooth. At times powerful, and at times immeasurably heavy.

Countless meanings gathered upon the sword tip only to scatter again and again. Like waves rolling toward the shore, the intent contained within the sword remained the same, yet also changed each time.

But if someone were to watch it, they might judge it to be nothing more than an unbearably slow sword strike.

A Blunt Sword.

[Dungeom. 둔검(鈍劍). Literally “Blunt Sword”. A sword principle emphasizing weight, restraint, and depth over sharpness and speed.]

A principle least suited to Mount Hua's sword was unfolding through Cheong Myeong's Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword.

“......Hoo.”

Cheong Myeong slightly lifted his gaze toward the sky.

One shichen. That is the amount of time he had moved his sword. And merely one chi. That was the distance the sword had traveled during that entire shichen.

[Sijin (shichen). 시진(時辰). A traditional unit of time equal to approximately two hours.]

[Cheok (chi). 척(尺). A traditional unit of length, roughly 30 cm.]

He slowly steadied his breathing.

‘It’s melting away...!’

More precisely, fusion would be the proper word.

Everything belonging to the Sword Saint and everything belonging to Cheong Myeong. What he had attained in his previous life, and what he had experienced in this life.

All of it was mixing together at the tip of the sword. Like countless things thrown into a blazing furnace, melting and blending together.

A question suddenly came to mind.

After melting everything down again and again, after filtering away all impurities, when the furnace was finally tilted and poured out, what, exactly, would emerge from within?

Perhaps even Cheong Myeong, who had once prided himself on reaching the ultimate essence of the sword, might witness something he had never dared imagine. Or perhaps, nothing at all would emerge —only a heap of worthless scrap metal, hopelessly melted together.

[Ultimate essence. Geugui. 극의(極意). The utmost pinnacle or deepest essence of a martial path.]

Even Cheong Myeong could not guess the result.

Only one thing was certain. The place Cheong Myeong was now heading toward was an unexplored realm his former self had never once reached.

He needed something that was the Sword Saint's sword, yet not the Sword Saint's sword. Something that was Mount Hua's sword, yet not Mount Hua's sword.

Without a word, Cheong Myeong slid the sword back into its scabbard. As he turned to descend the mountain, his steps suddenly halted.

“.......”

Casting a curious glance around the mountain, Cheong Myeong spread his senses in every direction. From the various peaks of Mount Hua rose the familiar presences of people he knew.

Cheong Myeong let out a quiet chuckle.

‘Looks like everyone's got their hands full.’

Then again, that was only natural. Cheong Myeong was not the only one who had gained much from this war. No, if anything, the others had gained far more than he had. Things familiar to Cheong Myeong had been entirely new experiences for them.

Experience leaves insight behind. Insight gives birth to enlightenment. And enlightenment leads people toward growth.

The disciples of Mount Hua were now wholly absorbed in sorting through the experiences of the recent war so they could move forward to the next stage.

Cheong Myeong casually changed direction. Following the nearest presence, he soon found Baek Cheon sitting in the lotus position beneath a large plum blossom tree.

With his sword resting across his lap, Baek Cheon had been sitting in meditation. Perhaps he had sensed Cheong Myeong's approach, Baek Cheon opened his eyes and looked over.

[Seated meditation. Jwaseon. 좌선(坐禪).]

“What?”

“.......Huh?”

“I asked why you've come all the way here.”

At a loss for words, Cheong Myeong replied with an awkward expression.

“Well, I just came. Do I need a reason to?”

“Haven't you avoided peeking into other people's training for ages? What sudden wind blew you over here?”

“......Ah. I said I just came.”

Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue.

These idiots, he had deliberately left them alone because unnecessary interference would only get in their way....

Grumbling inwardly, he casually asked.

“Is it going well?”

“.....Hmm.”

Instead of answering, Baek Cheon let out a long sigh.

“It's not as easy as I thought.”

“What isn't?”

“Trying to weave two things into one.”

Cheong Myeong nodded.

Without question, Baek Cheon was the person who had experienced the most during this war. Even Cheong Myeong would have to concede that much. As a result, there seemed to be quite a lot he needed to sort through.

“It feels like it'll work, then it doesn't... No, Mount Hua's sword is supposed to be about speed! How am I supposed to put softness into speed? That's a contradiction! Since when does fast softness exist?!”

“.....No, why are you getting mad?”

“Euugh. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Baek Cheon vigorously shook his head. He truly looked as though he had a terrible headache. Watching him, Cheong Myeong smirked.

“In my opinion...”

“Ah, shut up! Don't say anything!”

“Huh?”

Baek Cheon's face twisted immediately.

“If you tell me something, it'll probably become a lot easier to figure out.”

“.....Probably?”

“But I keep feeling like it shouldn’t be like that.”

“......”

“I think this is something I have to solve myself. I feel like it has to be. But... at the same time, I’m worried. Can I even solve it? If I were talented enough to figure this out on my own in the first place, I wouldn’t have spent my life getting beaten up like this. What am I supposed to do?”

Watching Baek Cheon eventually start grabbing at his own hair, Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue again.

“It’s a disease. A disease.”

“This bastard can’t be helpful even if he tries?”

“I told you I’d help, and you said you didn’t want it. What am I supposed to do?”

“Fine, fine, just shut up. Get lost! Shoo!”

Cheong Myeong shook his head as though there was no hope for him. Then, after glancing at Cheong Myeong’s expression, Baek Cheon carefully opened his mouth.

“Th-that said...”

“Hm?”

“You... what did you do in situations like this?”

“In situations like what?”

“When things just won’t come together. When they only get more complicated and tangled... those kinds of situations.”

Cheong Myeong tilted his head.

“Complicated?”

“Uh, how do I explain it? Like... the logic just won’t connect together.”

Cheong Myeong’s face grew serious as he sank into thought.

“A time like that...? Uh...”

“......”

“So, that? When things won’t work out? Like that? Uh? Hngh?”

“.....Forget it, damn you. I’m the idiot for asking you.”

Baek Cheon crumpled his face and let out a deep sigh. What could he possibly ask someone who had been born a genius? One of the things Baek Cheon had heard most often from that bastard throughout his life was: ‘You can’t do this? Why?’

Lost in anguish, Baek Cheon started pulling at his hair again. At this rate, one had to worry that his long flowing hair might end up full of bald patches.

Cheong Myeong let out a short sigh and said.

“So, I get that sasuk shamelessly swallowed up Wudang’s secret teachings without a shred of principle or pride.”

Baek Cheon broke out in cold sweat after clearly hearing the muttered addition spoken under his breath. ‘Back in the old days, injured or not, something like this would've earned you a chopped-off hand. Honestly, kids these days....’

“Th-that was when I was expelled from the sect.”

“Ah, really? Then should I perform Severing Tendons and Cutting Meridians on you now instead?”

[Severing Tendons and Cutting Meridians. Dangeum Chammaek. 단금참맥(斷筋斬脈). A punishment involving the destruction of one’s martial foundation.]

“…..Please spare me.”

“Well, anyway. Aren’t you obsessing over it too much?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“What I mean is...”

Baek Cheon looked at Cheong Myeong with eyes full of expectation. Seeing that, Cheong Myeong curled up the corners of his mouth.

“Not telling.”

“.....What?”

“Work hard.”

Cheong Myeong spun around and waved a hand dismissively.

“Hey! How can you leave after starting to explain something? If you start talking, finish what you were saying before you go! Hey! Hey, you bastard! Get back here!”

Baek Cheon’s resentful voice rang out from behind him, but Cheong Myeong ignored it completely. A grin naturally spread across his face.

‘This is something I have to solve myself’ huh?

Mulling over Baek Cheon's words and the look on his face, Cheong Myeong shook his head.

“You’ve learned how to say some pretty cool things for a Dongryong.”

Glancing once at the now distant Baek Cheon, Cheong Myeong resumed walking.

Descending the mountain at an unhurried pace, his eyes soon landed on two more people.

“Hey, you bastard!”

“N-no...! I really wasn’t trying to do it on purpose!”

“You bent your sword there? If you’ve got a grudge, settle it with words. Why are you trying to kill someone?”

“I-I told you, sahyung, I wasn’t trying to! How do I put it...? The sword just moved on its own for a moment.”

“On its own? On its own? Fine then! From now on my sword is going to move on its own too, so don’t complain to me!”

“AAAGH! I said I’m sorry!”

Cheong Myeong watched the two bickering back and forth with half-dead eyes. Eventually, they noticed him as well.

“Oh, Cheong Myeong-ah! Perfect timing! M-make sahyung stop!”

“….Do I have to?”

“Ah, I’m serious, I’m going to get stabbed!”

“Yeah. Just as I hoped.”

“Hey!”

Cheong Myeong let out a long sigh.

Who would look at these idiots and think they were seasoned veterans who had fought against the fearsome Evil Tyrant Alliance?

“....So what’s the problem?”

“This idiot suddenly tried to stab me in the throat during a spar!”

“Hum. You did something worth dying for.”

“I'm telling you, it was a mistake! A mistake!”

Jo Geol protested so indignantly that the veins stood out on his neck. Then he quickly wilted and muttered.

“My sword suddenly slipped out of my control. It shouldn't happen, but it does.”

Cheong Myeong stared at him.

“You really are high-maintenance.”

Jo Geol was different from Baek Cheon. Unlike Baek Cheon, who could organize what he had gained within the realm of contemplation, Jo Geol processed through action what he had learned through action.

To put it positively, he was a practical type. To put it negatively, it means he is someone whose body moves before his head.

So it seemed he had been sparring with Yoon Jong to sort out what he had gained.

“….At this rate, I'm not going to die of old age.”

“Come on, I said I'm sorry. Seriously.”

“I told you, I saw Yuanshi Tianzun for a moment!”

“That is a pretty rare experience.”

Cheong Myeong examined Yoon Jong's complexion. Even now, while bickering with Jo Geol, he still looked slightly pale. It seemed the situation had truly been dangerous, even if only for an instant.

He was probably making such an exaggerated fuss precisely so Jo Geol wouldn't blame himself too much.

‘Anyway.’

Had Jo Geol saved Yoon Jong's life in a previous life or something? To think he would show such consideration even in the midst of this.

“Ugh. Anyway, I think we'll have to suspend sparring for a while.”

“Wasn't it a mistake?”

“It was a mistake, but... there's no guarantee the same mistake won't happen again.”

“Then just be careful.”

“If only it were that easy... Haa.”

Unable to hide his frustration, Jo Geol let out a sigh. Watching him, Cheong Myeong spoke flatly.

“Then want to spar with me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Spar with— ...what?”

Startled, Jo Geol whipped his head around.

“You want to spar with me?”

“Yeah. Why are you so shocked?”

“Well...”

Jo Geol swallowed dryly.

‘Have I ever actually sparred one-on-one with that bastard?’

Their training with Cheong Myeong was usually many-against-one.

And beyond that, had they ever truly fought at full strength against one another rather than for instruction?

“Whatever. Forget it if you don't want to.”

“W-Wait! Who said I don't want to?”

Jo Geol jumped to his feet.

Right now, he was struggling with the problem of losing control of his sword. But if his opponent was that guy...

‘No matter how wildly I swing, he probably won't die.’

Wasn't he the most perfect wooden training dummy under heaven? A priceless opportunity had practically rolled up to him on its own.

At that moment, Cheong Myeong spoke.

“But take it seriously.”

“Huh?”

“I'll fight you properly.”

Jo Geol's expression stiffened slightly.

“Give me a moment.”

He closed his eyes and slowly regulated his breathing. When he opened them again, the look in his eyes had completely changed—that of a swordsman.

Jo Geol wanted to know. Even if this was only a spar. How far could his sword reach against Cheong Myeong now?

Could his blade touch someone who was no longer merely the strongest among them, but a man now spoken of as the greatest swordsman under heaven?

Cheong Myeong quietly met Jo Geol’s gaze. Then he nodded.

“Right. That's how it should be.”

Shrrrng.

Slowly drawing his sword and lowering its tip forward, Cheong Myeong spoke in a voice devoid of the slightest emotion.

“Come. I'll face you properly.”

The air around them grew heavy.

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