Chapter 1938 - Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1938. There’s No Need to Understand. (3)

Kaaaanng!

The peal of metal crashing against metal rang thunderously throughout Mount Hua.

Ordinarily, it would have been a sound no one gave a second thought to. Those gathered here, as the saying went, had all made their living on the blade. The sounds of weapons were as familiar and as natural to them as the chirping of insects in the grass.

[tl note: 칼밥을 먹고 살다. “to live by eating knife-rice” is a Korean idiom meaning to make one’s living through fighting or martial arts. It does not literally refer to eating with a knife.]

But now, things were different.

‘What in the world is happening?’

They could not see.

Although they were separated by no more than a dozen zhang, yet with their abilities they could not discern what was taking place atop the training ground.

[tl note: A dozen zhang is roughly thirty-six meters.]

All they could do was infer from the intermittent sounds of clashing weapons that something terrifying was unfolding.

It was a incomprehension unlike anything they had experienced in their entire lives, so absurd it almost drew hollow laughter.

Yet because of that, they could not help but realize all the more vividly just how extraordinary those two were.

“...So the Phantom Divine Lord’s reputation was no empty fame.”

Even those who had harbored doubts about him found themselves speechless before this sight.

What would have happened had they been the ones standing there?

They would not have endured even a single exchange. Before they even realized how their heads had been severed, their consciousness would already have faded. The sect leaders gathered here each had confidence in their own martial arts, yet not one of them dared claim they could withstand the Phantom Divine Lord’s assault.

‘The foremost under Heaven.’

[Cheonhailjeol. 천하일절(天下一絕). Literally “the unrivaled excellence under Heaven.” An honorific describing someone acknowledged as peerless in a particular field.]

There was no room for doubt.

The Phantom Divine Lord had unquestionably brought his martial arts to completion. That terrifying speed was a realm no one could ever reach without exceptional talent, bone-grinding effort, and long years of cultivation all accumulated together.

But.... If that was true....

‘Then what, exactly, is that man?’

The trembling gazes of the sect leaders turned toward Cheong Myeong upon the training ground.

The one hurtling in at an invisible speed was astonishing. No one could possibly belittle such martial prowess. But...

Kaang!

Cheong Myeong’s sword collided with something in midair. The shrill clash of steel, the violent burst of qi, and the crimson sparks blooming in empty space proved it beyond doubt.

He was blocking them. He was blocking attacks launched at that impossible speed.

And not the slightest trace of urgency could be felt from Cheong Myeong as he swung his sword. He merely swept it through the empty air as though dancing. Each time he did, deafening peals of steel rang out as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

The Phantom Divine Lord was undoubtedly extraordinary. The very fact that he could unleash attacks like these had already proven his mastery.

But if that was so... then to what realm had the one who so effortlessly parried those impossible attacks ascended?

Kaang! Kaang! Kaaaanng!

Only the piercing clang of weapons echoed sharply through Mount Hua, where even the air itself seemed to be holding its breath.

Time passed, yet nothing changed. Or rather, if there was one thing that did change, it was the floor of the training ground, which was steadily becoming stained a deeper and deeper crimson. Every time the Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword swung his sword, blood scattered into the air. Whether it flowed from the Phantom Divine Lord’s calves, which Cheong Myeong had already cut, or from fresh wounds newly opened, no one could even begin to guess.

One thing alone was certain. That blood was proof. Merely by parrying his opponent’s attacks as though toying with him, Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword was steadily driving Phantom Divine Lord toward defeat.

‘How merciless.’

Surely he did not have to go this far. With such an overwhelming gap between them, there had to be a way to defeat his opponent while still showing him respect.

But viewed from the opposite perspective, what if the Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword had felled the Phantom Divine Lord in a single blow?

Everyone present would undoubtedly have praised the Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword. Yet even as they did, they would never have known just how strong Cheong Myeong truly was for having cut down the Phantom Divine Lord.

Now, however, whether they wished to know it or not, they had no choice. After all, he is literally toying with the Phantom Divine Lord, whom they would not have been able to withstand even a single strike against. Anyone with eyes could no longer fail to understand.

“...Do you understand now?”

At that moment, someone’s voice broke the silence.

“That is the sharpest sword under Heaven.”

It was Sect Leader Hyeok Sawol of the Johwa Sect, staring at the training ground with an expression devoid of emotion.

“And now... there is nowhere left for the tip of that sword to be directed. Is there anyone here who does not understand what that means?”

“.....”

All the sect leaders fell silent. Amid the unnaturally still gathering, Hyeok Sawol let out a low murmur.

‘To strike at Mount Hua’s shortcomings...’

A hollow laugh escaped him of its own accord. No, it would be more accurate to call it a laugh of ridicule directed at himself. After all, was it not Hyeok Sawol himself who had been taken in by such absurd nonsense and chosen to sit among them?

Amid that deep self-mockery, Hyeok Sawol keenly realized that he had grown old.

‘Did Mount Hua truly have shortcomings?’

It did. It certainly did. Mount Hua was by no means a perfect sect.

It possessed neither the numbers required to dominate the world, nor the wealth to shake it. Its foothold lay too far on the periphery to extend its influence throughout the jianghu, nor had it attained an authority that all under Heaven would willingly acknowledge.

‘But... so what?’

Was Shaolin a perfect sect? Did Wudang possess all of those things?

Of course not. A perfect sect could never exist in the first place. Even if they took the very standards by which they had judged Mount Hua and applied them to any other sect, the result would not be any different.

They knew this. Yet they had chosen to look away. Perhaps because they simply did not want to admit it. For a sect that had once stood on the brink of annihilation to ascend to the position of the Northern Dipper of the world in so short a time... would be proof that the leaders of every other sect had been just that incompetent.

[Bukdu. 북두(北斗). Literally “the Northern Dipper” (the Big Dipper). Figuratively, the foremost guiding authority or supreme leading power.]

But the Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword had made it impossible for them to avert their eyes any longer.

Kaaang!

Once again, Cheong Myeong intercepted the Phantom Divine Lord’s attack.

The sect leaders finally realized it. By now, Cheong Myeong was not even looking at the Phantom Divine Lord anymore. Long ago, his gaze had shifted away from his opponent. It was fixed instead upon the sect leaders seated around the training ground.

With eyes that had settled into an icy calm, Cheong Myeong swung his sword once more. Toward empty air. Or perhaps... toward every person gathered here watching him.

Kaaaanng!

The instant the resounding clash of steel exploded through the air, every sect leader flinched involuntarily.

By this point, there was no mistaking it. The sword Cheong Myeong wielded was no longer merely one raised against the Phantom Divine Lord. It was a sword raised as a warning to them.

Just as Hyeok Sawol had said, that sword no longer had anywhere left to point. Which meant, it could now be directed anywhere.

At that very moment.

The sword Cheong Myeong had thus far merely been swinging suddenly shimmered with crimson sword qi. An instant later, an explosive killing intent so intense that it seemed capable of freezing the heart erupted forth.

Kwaaaaaaang!

Accompanied by a thunderous explosion, something shot through the air like a ray of light before crashing down among the tense sect leaders.

“.....”

Frozen so completely that they could not even scream, the sect leaders’ gazes instinctively turned toward it. Turning their heads with cold sweat streaming down their faces, what they saw was none other than the Yuanyang Yue the Phantom Divine Lord had drawn with such confidence.

Crash!

Then came another sound. Unlike the sharp clangs that had echoed until now, this one was dull and utterly devoid of strength.

“Keuugh...”

The Phantom Divine Lord, Yeo Mugwang, lay sprawled across the training ground, his body twitching.

It was truly a miserable sight.

Though he still clung desperately to his remaining Yuanyang Yue, it was obvious that Yeo Mugwang could fight no longer.

Both of his legs had been dyed crimson with his own blood. Whether his clothes had been shredded by Cheong Myeong’s sword or torn apart because his own body could no longer withstand his speed, his garments had already been ripped to tatters, scarcely more than rags.

But more striking than any of that... was that, within so brief a span of time, every trace of vitality had vanished from Yeo Mugwang.

The skin visible beneath his disheveled hair looked dry and brittle, like weathered sand, utterly unlike when they had first seen him. He had exhausted himself so completely that he no longer seemed to possess even the strength to move his lips.

Cheong Myeong stared at Yeo Mugwang for a long moment. Then he turned his gaze away.

Flinch.

Every sect leader who met Cheong Myeong’s eyes shuddered. He had not threatened them. Nor was there hostility in his gaze.

And yet... What sect leader worthy of the title could fail to understand the meaning contained within the Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword’s eyes? That warning.

Kagak.

The tip of Cheong Myeong’s sword naturally lowered until it touched the ground.

With that one simple movement alone, he drew every eye upon himself. After a brief silence, he finally spoke.

“Now, what was it you said?”

“.....”

“Proof?”

A deep sneer settled at the corner of Cheong Myeong’s mouth.

It was unbearably insolent. Yet not a single person dared rebuke him. And it was not merely because, at this moment, Cheong Myeong stood in the right.

“Isn’t it strange?”

It hardly seemed a coincidence that Cheong Myeong’s gaze, sweeping across the assembled sect leaders, came to rest near Hyeok Sawol.

“Not a single person in the world demanded proof from the Evil Tyrant Alliance or from Jang Ilso. Yet somehow, the ones who crushed them are the ones who have to prove themselves.”

The unmistakable mockery in his voice silenced every sect leader.

“But, well... fine. I can’t exactly ask to be treated the same way as those bastards from the unorthodox faction. I’ll concede that much. So...”

Cheong Myeong deliberately let the last word linger. Then he bared his teeth in a bright smile.

“Anyone still need more proof?”

Mount Hua fell into the silence of a grave.

[tl note: 쥐 죽은 듯 고요하다. “As silent as if even the mice had died” is a Korean idiom describing an unnaturally complete silence.]

Nothing could be heard except the faint groans leaking from the Phantom Divine Lord’s lips. Cheong Myeong stood there for quite some time, as though savoring the silence. Then he shrugged.

“See? This is what always happens when I actually do it for you people. Seriously.”

Cheong Myeong slid his sword back into its scabbard.

“There’s no need to worry. This won’t be your last chance.”

Then, wearing a radiant smile, he slowly looked around at everyone present.

“Any time. If anyone wants it, any time at all.”

There was no need to explain how those final words sounded to everyone gathered there.

“Well then.”

Cheong Myeong lightly turned to leave, only to pause for a moment. Then he looked back at Hundred-Faced Fox, Cho Geosan, and grinned.

Already pale as a sheet, the Hundred-Faced Fox’s complexion drained until it was nearly corpse-like.

“...I, I...”

But that was all.

Cheong Myeong left the training ground without doing anything in particular to the Hundred-Faced Fox, Cho Geosan. It was as though he wasn’t even worth dealing with.

Even so, the Hundred-Faced Fox could not conceal his fear and trembling. The composure he had displayed while facing Un Am only moments earlier had vanished without a trace.

In the end... that was all it had ever been.

The Hundred-Faced Fox’s composure, and the composure of the sect leaders who had come here, could exist only because they had calculated that Mount Hua would never truly regard them as enemies.

Now that assumption had crumbled, this gathering could no longer remain anything like what they had imagined it would be when they first came.

“Ahem.”

Amid the heavy tension and fear that now hung over the training ground, Un Am stepped forward once more and let out an awkward cough.

“Soso-ya.”

“Yes, Sect Leader.”

“Please see to his treatment. Make sure there is no neglect in attending to our guest.”

“Yes!”

Tang Soso sprang onto the training ground, effortlessly hoisted the Phantom Divine Lord onto her back, and hurried away.

“Then... well...”

Within the delicate atmosphere, Un Am deliberately put on a gentle smile.

“Shall we continue our discussion?”

Sensing the atmosphere had become unmistakably different from before, the sect leaders found themselves nodding in agreement.

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