Chapter 1985 - Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1985. Because I’m Here. (5)

“Huuk!”

Drops of blood scatter from the tip of the divine sword.

The sharpest of all, the lightest of all, a sword worthy of the name Divine Sword. Yet the hand gripping it was trembling in tiny spasms, as though even this light weight were too much to bear.

“Fall to the very depths of the abyss, you wretched unbeliever!”

The sword, slashing violently through the air, cleaved deep into the chest of a Demonic Cultist charging toward him. The Demonic Cultist, his chest split along with his breastbone, soon collapsed, vomiting mouthful after mouthful of dark red blood. Even so, the hand he stretched out with relentless tenacity tore a long rip in the hem of Cheong Mun’s trousers.

“......Hoo.”

Cheong Mun clenched his teeth.

His blood-soaked robe felt twice as heavy as usual. His hands, slick with blood, the stench of blood rising with enough force to numb his nose, there was nothing about any of it that wasn’t utterly dreadful.

But rather than suffer for long, Cheong Mun swung his sword. If he hesitated for even an instant, he would be swept away by the madness. Keeping his mind sharp was the only way to survive this hell.......

‘No!’

Cheong Mun abruptly cut off his thoughts and fixed his gaze with renewed intensity. Surviving must not be his goal.

‘Don’t forget. I am the sect leader of Great Mount Hua. And right now, I am in a position where I must accomplish something beyond even that role.’

“Everyone, hold fast!”

Cheong Mun drew up his internal energy and shouted in a voice that rang out loudly.

“It won’t be long! Endure just a little longer, and the elite troops of the Nine Great Sects will come to reinforce this place! Give it everything you have and hold out until then!”

“Yes, Sect Leader!”

Firm trust could be felt in the answers that burst forth.

Cheong Mun instinctively turned his gaze. How remarkable was it that they continued to follow him without wavering, even while surrounded on every side by that dreadful mass of Demonic Cultists?

He had to repay them. He had to live up to their trust. He had to produce results, so that their sacrifices would not be in vain.

Yet, apart from his resolve, the situation was unmistakably far from easy.

“Sect Leader.”

Cheong Jin approached him as if flying to his side, his expression heavy as he lowered his voice and spoke in a whisper.

“Reinforcements are late. According to our agreement, they should have arrived by now.”

“I know.”

“Could it be....?”

“That cannot be.”

Cheong Mun cut him off decisively, as though there were no need to hear anything more.

“We aren’t the only ones who must defeat the Demonic Cult. They don’t want to lose their disciples either, nor do they want to shed blood in vain. Then why would they let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away?”

“I know! Isn’t that why I agreed to Sect Leader Sahyung’s plan? But.... but, this.....”

“Do not doubt them!”

Cheong Mun swung his sword as he cried out firmly, then continued.

“There could be any number of unforeseen variables. They might have encountered enemies on the way here, or our paths might have crossed without us meeting! Wavering now will only drive us into a corner with our own hands!”

Cheong Jin fell silent for a moment. Even so, the signs of anxiety on his face remained unmistakable.

Of course, Cheong Mun’s words weren’t wrong. This was an opportunity to lure in the Demonic Cult’s forces and wipe them out all at once. If Mount Hua acted as bait to draw the enemy in, and the reinforcements from the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families could annihilate them in one fell swoop, they would be able to turn the tide of a war that had been steadily deteriorating.

The Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families had no reason to oppose this plan. They didn’t want to lose this war either. If there was a way to reduce casualties and increase their chances of victory, it was only natural that anyone would take part.

But....

‘Was it really natural?’

Cheong Jin bit down on his lips, chewing at them again and again.

He had only come to realize it when those dreadful bastards finally attacked.

That what one side took for granted could be something another side did not consider natural at all.

Until now. Yes, until now, that fact had not brought about a disaster. But.... what if it happened now? Then who, exactly, could bear the consequences?

“We must retreat, Sect Leader!”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Sahyung!”

Cheong Jin seized Cheong Mun firmly by the shoulder and pulled him toward himself.

“......They aren’t coming.”

“Cheong Mun-ah!” [tl note: The original says “Cheongmun-ah,” but this doesn’t really make sense in the context. Biga might have made a typo here, and it should be “Cheongjin-ah” instead, with Cheongmun calling out to Cheongjin. This is just a guess based on the scene, though. The original text does say “Cheongmun-ah.”]

“Don’t you understand? As Sahyung said, this may be the only chance to turn the tide of the war against the Demonic Cult. But for those bastards of the Nine Great Sects and One Union, it’s another opportunity too, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean, an opportunity....?”

“An opportunity to erase Mount Hua from the world.”

Cheong Mun stared blankly at Cheong Jin as though he had been struck over the head.

“What are you talking about?”

Cheong Jin squeezed both eyes shut.

“What kind of absurd nonsense is that?”

Cheong Mun was a perfect person. But precisely because he was perfect, he failed to understand the darkness of human nature. He understood it with his head, but could not accept it with his heart.

And so, at decisive moments, he ended up trusting someone like this.

“Please listen to me. We have to escape, Sect Leader!”

“Cheong Jin-ah!”

“We can talk at any time! Whatever the case, we have to escape now! Don’t you understand?”

Cheong Mun clenched his fist.

“Escape, you say....?”

But how, exactly?

His astonished gaze momentarily grew unfocused. He still couldn’t understand why Cheong Jin was saying such things.

But he knew that if Cheong Jin insisted on something this vehemently, then his words were unlikely to be wrong.

Even if he believed Cheong Jin, however, escaping immediately would be difficult. The enemy was everywhere. Demonic Cultists were everywhere. Of course they were. Cheong Mun himself had made it that way.

He had drawn in enemies up to the limit they could handle. No, he had drawn in so many enemies that they would struggle to bear the burden. Cheong Mun was the one who had carried out that strategy.

And in a situation like this, by what means was he supposed to escape?

“Aaaaaagh!”

Someone screamed. It wasn’t the hoarse voice of someone consumed by the madness called faith. To Cheong Mun’s ears, it was a familiar voice, one that sounded unbearably sorrowful and desperate.

“Myeong Hae-ya!”

[Myeonghae. 명해(明諧). 明諧, literally “bright” and “harmonious”.]

Seeing his disciple collapse, spraying blood, fury blazed in Cheong Mun’s eyes.

And it wasn’t just Myeong Hae. Cracks had begun to appear in the balance they had barely managed to maintain. Screams and blood scattered here and there. To Cheong Mun’s eyes, the sight resembled distinct cracks spreading across a bottle of his own filled to the brim with water.

“Sect Leader!”

At that instant, a scream-like shout pierced his ears, and Cheong Mun reflexively swung his sword.

Seogeok!

The sword he swung sliced halfway through the neck of the Demonic Cultist charging at him. With his carotid artery severed, the man staggered as he glared at Cheong Mun. His eyes were filled with deep-seated hatred.

“The Second Coming of the Heavenly Demon.... Ten Thousand Demons....”

Fresh blood gushing from the Demonic Cultist’s neck stained Cheong Mun’s robes. Unable to hold himself up any longer, the man toppled forward.

‘No.’

Whether Cheong Jin was right or wrong, it was certainly impossible to keep holding out any longer. If they delayed further, then even if reinforcements arrived, Mount Hua would suffer losses so great that they could never be undone.

“Everyone, listen! Somehow, we must make a path—.... Urgh!”

At that moment, a terrible pain jolted Cheong Mun back to his senses. He lowered his gaze and saw the tip of a slender, narrow-bladed sword protruding from the front of his shin. The Demonic Cultist who had fallen just moments ago had, with his dying breath, finally managed to stab Cheong Mun in the leg.

[Narrow-bladed sword. Hyeopbonggeom. 협봉검(狹鋒劍). Literally a “narrow-bladed sword,” referring to a sword with a slender blade.]

Cheong Mun’s body lurched sharply forward.

The Demonic Cultists seized that opening and descended upon him all at once, like hungry wolves.

“Sahyung! Watch out!”

“Sect Leadeeeeeer!”

Just as Cheong Mun gritted his teeth and prepared to swing his sword at them, a crimson-red figure appeared from somewhere and darted in front of him.

Swaeaeaeaek!

Immediately afterward, a strange sound burst forth.

It sounded as though the noise of swords slicing through the air and shooting forward had overlapped dozens of times. Countless people in this world wielded swords as weapons, but as far as Cheong Mun knew, there was only one person in the entire world capable of making such a sound with a sword.

Kwadeuk! Kwadeudeuk! Kwadeuk!

Dozens of sword images bloomed in midair, piercing through the Demonic Cultists charging at Cheong Mun in an instant.

One stream of blood for every sword image. Every sword strike sank into the vital points of the Demonic Cultists without deviating by even an inch.

“Uurghhkk.....”

Along with the ghastly groan of the man whose throat had been pierced, more than a dozen Demonic Cultists collapsed where they stood.

A ghostly sword aura.

The reason that sword inspired fear not only in the Demonic Cult but even among the orthodox sects was surely not just that it was strong and precise.

A demon’s sword, containing not a shred of mercy, occupied solely with killing its opponent efficiently. There was something about his sword that made a person’s hair stand on end just from looking at it.

When he wielded a sword like this, how could anyone possibly have no choice but to call him an asura?

[Asura. Sura. 수라(修羅).]

Yet the Mount Hua disciples facing this asura all cried out with delighted expressions.

“S-sahyung!”

“Sasuk, have you arrived?!”

A blood-soaked figure, drenched from head to toe.

Cheong Myeong merely glanced toward Cheong Mun with his eyes, without even turning his head toward the others. Then he muttered in a low voice.

“Your orders.”

“We have to open a path, sahyung! Right now!”

“Shut your mouth.”

Cheong Myeong pinned Cheong Jin down with eyes brimming with a chilling, blue-tinged murderous intent, then turned his gaze toward Cheong Mun.

“Jangmun Sahyung.”

“Open a path, Cheong Myeong-ah.”

“....”

“Please.”

Without a word of objection or unnecessary comment, Cheong Myeong whirled his sword. The blood clinging to its blade scattered, staining the fresh green grass growing from the ground red.

“Cheong Jin.”

“Yes, sahyung!”

“We’re opening a path. Take command.”

“Yes!”

“Let’s go.”

Cheong Myeong charged forward, trampling the bodies of Demonic Cultists whose corpses had not yet cooled.

Seeing him, the Demonic Cultists let out furious howls. But Cheong Mun could clearly feel it. The fear plainly exposed beneath their exaggerated rage.

Even those monsters of the Demonic Cult, objects of terror to everyone under heaven, were screaming in fear of this one man.

“DIIIIIEEE!”

A Demonic Cultist frantically brought down a massive saber toward Cheong Myeong’s head. But Cheong Myeong swung his sword like a flash of lightning without even turning his gaze toward him.

Seogeok!

The sword that severed the wielder’s arm with a single strike changed its trajectory in midair and pierced straight through his neck.

“Urghk.....”

Kwadeudeuk!

Cheong Myeong’s merciless sword didn’t even allow the dying man a final death cry. The sword, twisted sideways, was thrust upward, forcibly wrenching the half-severed neck away from the body.

At that moment, Cheong Myeong seized the shoulder of the still-warm corpse with his left hand and immediately charged forward. Though the man’s breath had stopped, his body had yet to cease moving, and blood spurted unnaturally from the severed cross-section. The blood scattered in this manner formed a dark-red curtain in front of Cheong Myeong.

“Wha....”

Perhaps even the Demonic Cultists were stunned by this sight, for they halted for an instant. But they would soon realize what a grave mistake it was to stop moving in front of that sword ghost of Mount Hua, no matter the circumstances.

[tl note: Sword ghost of Mount Hua. Hwasan-ui Geomgwi. 화산의 검귀(華山의 劍鬼). Geomgwi, 검귀(劍鬼), literally means “sword ghost”. Wow, he was called geomgwi in the past too, not just bcs Ho Gamyeong hahaha]

Fwoooooosh!

Through the curtain of blood, an even redder sword aura pierced.

To the Demonic Cultists watching from the other side of Cheong Myeong, it must have seemed as though the blood itself had come alive and was stabbing toward them.

Thud! Thud!

Three Demonic Cultists who failed to react in time had their throats pierced in an instant. But the one standing in Cheong Myeong’s way was the strongest force in history. Most of the Demonic Cultists somehow managed to block Cheong Myeong’s sword as it flew toward their vital points.

But even this was enough.

Fwoooosh!

Cheong Myeong shot forward, piercing through the wall of blood that had surged upward. A single white line appeared on his face, drenched from head to toe in blood. It was the gleaming whiteness of his teeth, revealed by a smile.

At last, Cheong Myeong plunged into the very midst of the Demonic Cultists and brought his sword down like a beast.

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