Welcome back, Hwasan Geomhyeop. (3)
Gurgle.
The wine filled the cup.
Chung Myung, who was silently pouring from the bottle, glanced at the person sitting across from him – a man meticulously wiping a short flying dagger with pure white hemp cloth.
“…Put the blade away. It ruins the taste of the drink.”
“Come on, who worries about the taste of alcohol in the middle of a war? As long as you can drink it, that’s good enough.”
Tang Bo, wiping off every bit of oil from the dagger, twitched his eyebrows. As expected of someone from the Tang clan, he maintained his weapons to perfection.
“Does cleaning it like that make it any sharper?”
“Listen, if you don’t know, don’t speak. A butcher like you, Taoist Hyeong, would just pick up any sword that’s fallen on the ground and chop things up. But for someone like me, I need a weapon that fits my hand perfectly. You know how much of a masterpiece this is?”
“Masterpiece, my ass.”
Ignoring him, Tang Bo continued to meticulously maintain all twelve of his daggers. After cleaning them thoroughly, buffing any scratched parts, and reapplying oil, he carefully laid the now pristine daggers in front of him.
Then he picked up the bottle and refilled Chung Myung’s empty cup.
“What’s got our Taoist Hyeong in a bad mood again?”
“…”
“No, no, that’s not right. You’re always in a bad mood. Yes, that’s it. It’s like a law of nature or something.”
“You little…”
“Come on, come on, how about a drink? Let’s have a drink.”
Tang Bo grinned as he raised his cup, and Chung Myung smirked and raised his in response. The two cups clinked lightly in the air.
Chung Myung slowly emptied his cup and looked at Tang Bo sitting across from him, asking,
“How many died yesterday?”
“About twenty?”
“…I’m asking how many died, not how many you killed.”
“Five. Damn bastards, I told them not to get reckless…”
Tang Bo grimaced as if he were annoyed. It seemed that even in the Tang clan unit he led, there were quite a few casualties.
That’s how war is. No matter how careful you are or how much effort you put in, there will inevitably be those who die.
“Those bastards have been going crazy lately. I almost lost my head.”
Tang Bo made a slicing motion across his neck with his hand.
“Madman.”
Chung Myung chuckled.
It was a meaningless joke, but here, no one makes such jokes lightly.
In a place where the seat of someone who was eating with them yesterday is empty today and they acknowledge it with just a glance, jokes about death are too heavy to make lightly and too light to discuss seriously.
“I really almost died, I’m telling you. Ran into one of the Bishops.”
“Hmm.”
When the word ‘Bishop’ came up, Chung Myung’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Several Bishops had already lost their heads to his sword, but the title of a Bishop still posed a threat, even to Chung Myung.
“We didn’t get into a proper fight, so I managed to slip away…”
Tang Bo pressed his chin with his fingers.
“If we’d really fought, my neck would’ve been at risk. Damn it, why was I born into the Tang clan?”
“You’re just weak. Don’t blame the Tang clan.”
“Oh, come on. Our Taoist Hyeong must not know much because he’s been cooped up in the mountains. It’s not that I’m weak – it’s just the nature of the flying daggers. They work up to a certain level, but beyond that, there’s a limit to what daggers can do.”
“You’re just weak.”
“No, what I’m saying is-”
“You’re weak.”
“…”
Tang Bo smiled with a strained face, veins popping out.
“Be careful on your way home. A stray dagger might end up in your back.”
“Then it wouldn’t be a stray dagger but a dagger thrown by a blind idiot.”
“Ugh, damn it.”
Tang Bo grumbled as he fiddled with the Soul-Chasing Dagger in front of him. No matter how you looked at it, he seemed to be contemplating whether he could throw it right into Chung Myung’s forehead.
“Anyway, because of that… I’m thinking about developing a new, useful technique.”
“A technique?”
“Yes, a technique that can deal with those damn Bishops or that bastard Heavenly Demon. Those guys wearing all black, all black clothes. Oh, and it’d be even better if it’s a technique that’s effective against those who wield swords.”
Chung Myung silently looked down at his own clothes.
Hmm, it’s all black. Very, very black.
Chung Myung chuckled.
“Stop wasting time and just do what you’re already good at. If you start developing a new technique now, when will you ever use it in real combat? Maybe you’ll get to try it out in the afterlife.”
“Well, I’m not planning to use it right away.”
“Huh?”
Tang Bo smirked.
“If I can just get a rough idea now, I can take my time developing it after the war is over.”
“You sure you’ll live that long?”
“Hey, I’m Tang Bo. If those grim reapers come for me, I’ll just stick a Soul-Chasing Dagger in their foreheads.”
“Crazy bastard.”
Tang Bo chuckled.
With a slightly peculiar expression, Tang Bo quietly stared at the empty cup in his hand for a moment before grabbing the bottle and filling his cup.
“Even if I can’t finish it all myself…”
Hearing the subdued tone in his voice, Chung Myung looked up at Tang Bo.
Tang Bo raised the cup and slowly swirled it in his hand before downing the drink in one gulp.
“Someone will carry it on. Someone who inherits the Tang clan’s blood and learns the Twelve Flying Daggers.”
“…”
“That way, even if someone ends up in the same situation as me one day, they won’t have the same worries, right?”
“Hmm…”
Chung Myung was about to comment that Tang Bo had surprisingly given some thought to things, but then he heard Tang Bo’s slightly irritated voice in his ear.
“At least my descendants won’t end up getting beaten up by some gloomy Taoist guy coming down from a barren rocky mountain. I’d just shove a Soul-Chasing Dagger right into their backs…”
Schwing.
“Ah! H-Hey! Why are you drawing your sword while we’re drinking! You really can’t take a joke, can you? Just what kind of Taoism do you practice?”
“Crazy bastard…”
Chung Myung chuckled and sheathed his sword again, picking up his cup. The drink that went down his throat tasted especially bitter.
“What’s the point of any of that?”
“Sorry?”
“All this talk about descendants and whatnot…”
Chung Myung’s somber eyes gazed out the window. Dark clouds, covering the sun, looked like they could burst into rain at any moment.
“Why should I care about those who survive? I don’t even know if I’ll be alive tomorrow.”
“Hm. Well, that’s also true.”
Chung Myung’s dark gaze shifted back to Tang Bo.
“You, being treated like an outcast in the Tang clan, are even thinking about descendants, huh.”
“Who’s an outcast? They just can’t handle me!”
“…I’d say that’s understandable.”
“That’s an insult, isn’t it?”
“It’s a compliment.”
“It’s totally an insult!”
Tang Bo gritted his teeth. Watching him, Chung Myung eventually let out a faint smile.
It wasn’t so much because he found it funny, but rather because he kept trying to laugh whenever there was a reason to. In this hellish battlefield, whenever he had a moment, he found himself looking for Tang Bo instead of his Sahyeongs. Perhaps this was the reason.
‘Clueless.’
In a battlefield like this, where people are losing their reasons to exist as human beings, it’s truly a marvel that someone could still shout, get angry, joke, and laugh like that.
“Well, it’s just one of those things.”
“Hm?”
Tang Bo said, running his fingertip along the blade of the Soul-Chasing Dagger in his hand.
“Someone will have to…”
His eyes, staring at his reflection on the blade, became empty. His face, with deep shadows cast over it, quickly lost any semblance of expression.
“The ones who follow must not repeat the same mistakes made by the fools before them. At the very least, those guys should be better than us, shouldn’t they?”
“…”
But as if that moment of solemnity had never existed, Tang Bo quickly erased the gloom from his face and smiled brightly.
“Perhaps those guys won’t have a boring Taoist like you, who wields a sword like a ghost, by their side.”
“Bullshit.”
“Well, what can you do? Still, they’re my blood. I used to hate even the sight of those idiots before, but as I get older, I find myself worrying about them.”
Tang Bo chuckled softly. Chung Myung also let out a hollow laugh and leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling.
“Someone to carry on…”
What nonsense.
What is there to carry on? They’re people he wouldn’t even see the faces of. What would he know about what happens after he dies?
He couldn’t even save the lives of those who were right in front of him. As time went on, all they did was lose more and more.
“If you have time to think about that, kill one more bastard instead.”
“Pardon?”
“If there are no more mistakes to make, that’s enough. If we cut off that Heavenly Demon bastard’s head, at least your descendants won’t have to fight that son of a bitch.”
“Well… that’s true.”
“So, don’t worry.”
“What are you on about now?”
Chung Myung’s lips curled into a sly grin.
“I’ll be the one to take that bastard’s head.”
“There you go again. I told you, that one’s mine.”
Tang Bo clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Fine, fine. If Taoist Hyeong manages to take the Heavenly Demon’s head, I’ll give you a gift.”
“A gift?”
“Hmph! I, Tang Bo, will let you be the first to witness a new technique l’ve developed! And on that day, when the Soul-Chasing Dagger is lodged in your back, I’ll be the best in the world… Ah, no! Stop drawing your sword over a joke!”
“Die, you bastard!”
“Ahhh! The Taoist is going to kill someone!”
At some point, while making a big fuss and feigning agony, Tang Bo effortlessly dissipated the sword energy Chung Myung had sent his way and laughed.
“If that day comes, I’ll have no regrets.”
“…Just drink.”
“Here, take it. I’ll fill your cup.”
The liquor flowing from the tip of the bottle slowly filled the white cup.
The two of them drank as if competing with each other, as if trying to quench some dry, barren part within them.
As the rain that came with the night continued throughout, washing away the bloody stench of the previous day until morning, the two men simply drank.
❀ ❀ ❀
Chung Myung opened his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling.
His head slowly turned to the side. Sunlight was streaming in through the window.
‘Is it morning?’
It had been his routine to wake up with a start of dawn and head out for training. But after returning to Hwasan for the first time in years, the tension that had gripped his body for so long seemed to have finally loosened.
Perhaps that’s why he had such a dream.
“…That did happen.”
Yes. He had forgotten.
He hadn’t considered it important enough to remember every casual conversation. Or rather, he hadn’t realized its importance.
“To witness it first, huh…”
Chung Myung let out a small laugh. It was a face that Maehwa Geomjon of the past used to show.
“You idiot.”
Yes. He kept his promise to sever the Heavenly Demon’s head. He did it in the most pathetic way possible.
And Tang Bo kept his promise, too. In the most foolish way possible.
Both were truly idiotic and foolish.
So…
Chung Myung raised his gaze back up. The ceiling he was looking at now was different from the one he had seen back at that drinking party.
“…I said I wouldn’t let them go through it.”
So, after trying so hard, if the same thing were to happen again… What meaning would those deaths back then have had?
What kind of meaning…
Bang!
At that moment, the door burst open violently, and familiar faces tumbled into the room. No, it was more like they spilled in.
“Ahh! What the hell!”
Even the great Chung Myung couldn’t help but be taken aback for a moment.
“Argh! I told you not to push!”
“Well, it’s because you wouldn’t move!”
“I said let him rest! The sparring yesterday wasn’t easy!”
“Why are you waking up someone who’s sleeping?!”
Watching the Five Swords tangled up and bickering as they lay in a heap on the floor, Chung Myung’s face went blank. Then, he covered his face with both hands.
‘For the sake of those things…’
Tang Bo-ya, doesn’t this feel like a pointless death? Hm?
“…Why?”
Chung Myung asked weakly, and Baek Cheon, who was at the very bottom of the pile, cleared his throat with his fist over his mouth. Not that it helped – he was buried under the others, and any semblance of dignity was nowhere to be found.
“Well, um… we wanted to ask about yesterday’s spar.”
“…”
“No matter how much I think about it, I just can’t understand how you used that technique.”
“Explain it to us.”
“…”
For a moment, Chung Myung was at a loss for words. He looked at them blankly before asking,
“You all came rushing in here at the crack of dawn just for that?”
“The crack of dawn? The sun’s been up for a while!”
“What if we put it off and forget? We need to clear this up right away.”
A helpless laugh escaped from Chung Myung’s lips.
Seeing those guys with their eyes wide open – or rather, gleaming with excitement – made him feel like an idiot for being even momentarily gloomy.
“The use?”
“Yeah.”
“If I explain it, do you think you’ll understand?”
“…”
“You can only see as much as you know. As much as you understand. How can I explain something that’s beyond your weak comprehension? It’s like trying to teach letters to a monkey.”
“You bastard…”
“See? I told you he’d say something unpleasant anyway!”
“Ugh! Ptooey!”
As a flurry of noisy reactions burst out, Chung Myung shook his head and climbed out of bed.
“If you have time to talk nonsense, you should be training. Just because we’ve returned to Hwasan doesn’t mean you can slack off.”
“Everyone’s been training except you!”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been the laziest, you bastard!”
Chung Myung shook his head as he tried to leave, but Baek Cheon subtly blocked his path. Chung Myung looked up at him with a grumpy expression.
“Why?”
“I have to admit, I don’t think I can fully grasp it with just my head.”
“Huh?”
“But…”
Baek Cheon twisted his lips into a smirk.
“I think I could understand it with my body.”
“…”
“How about it? As a warm-up?”
Chung Myung opened his mouth as if he had something to say, but then just shook his head instead.
“Seems like you’re all healed from the last beating, huh?”
“Already all healed up, you bastard.”
Baek Cheon grinned confidently, almost as if he was about to snort. Chung Myung laughed.
“Alright, see you at the training grounds. I’ll make sure to break what healed nice and clean again.”
“Fine by me.”
The Five Swords headed outside without another word. Jo Geol, who was at the back, yanked Baek Cheon’s shoulder and sprinted ahead.
“I’m first!”
“No, you bastard! Hey, punk! Don’t you have any sense of order?”
“Where does Hwasan have anything like that?!”
“An opening!”
“Samae! Hey! Yu Iseol!”
Chung Myung stood in place, watching them. As he watched the Five Swords bickering and rushing out, it felt like he could hear the words from his dream.
– Those who follow must not repeat the mistakes made by the foolish ones before them. At the very least, they should be better than us, don’t you think?
Chung Myung looked at the window where sunlight was pouring in. Unlike back then, the weather was wonderfully clear.
“Yeah. They’re better than us.”
Better than idiots like you and me, at least.
________
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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