Return of the Mount Hua

What were you all expecting? (3)

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Fwoooosh!

Beop Jong’s feet, who had leapt over several jang in an instant, pounded the ground again without a moment’s rest. He soared over the hill blocking his path in a flash, crossed the flowing river in a single bound, and continued forward – further and further.

And behind him trailed a group clad in yellow monk robes, the symbol of Shaolin.

Three hundred Shaolin monks.

Who in all the world would not feel overwhelmed at such a sight? It was a scene that symbolized the very power of Shaolin itself.

However…

The faces of the monks following behind Beop Jong were all pale, utterly drained of color – completely at odds with their lofty reputation. Their legs trembled as if they might give out at any moment.

“A-Abbot!”

Beop Gye, following right behind Beop Jong, cried out in a strained voice. But Beop Jong didn’t even turn his head.

“Abbot! The disciples can’t endure this any longer. You must slow down!”

Only then did Beop Jong turn his head around sharply. The emotion on his face was not concern, but icy fury.

“We cannot slow down.”

“There will be stragglers!”

“I don’t care!”

At that cutting voice, Beop Gye flinched instinctively.

Beop Jong’s tightly clenched lips seemed to declare his resolve more clearly than words.

“Those who fall behind will be left behind. They can rejoin us later at the Yangtze. What matters now is reaching the Yangtze as quickly as possible – even a moment sooner!”

“But…”

“This is a race against time!”

“But Abbot! Even if we manage to reach the Yangtze, what use is it if the disciples are too exhausted to fight?”

“I said they’ll be fine!”

Beop Jong spoke firmly.

“If Namgung Clan weren’t there, it might be a different matter – but as long as Namgung is present, we don’t need to be at full strength. We only need enough power to overwhelm Surochae!”

“…Th-That’s true, but still…”

“So stop talking and increase your speed!”

“…Understood!”

A fierce glare burst from Beop Jong’s eyes.

‘No more mistakes.’

He had already made several missteps. If the situation worsened now, it might truly become irreversible. He could no longer stand by and watch Shaolin’s reputation be dragged through the mud under his leadership.

A crisis is always an opportunity.

The current situation was beyond dire – but if Shaolin could reach the Yangtze in time, defeat Surochae, and rescue Namgung clan, the tide could be turned in an instant.

That was why Beop Jong could not afford to let this chance slip by. He absolutely must not.

‘Faster!’

As long as they arrived before Jang Ilso, it would be enough.

Combat power is always relative. Shaolin could never take on the entire Sapaeryon. But if the opponent was only Surochae?

There would be no need to wait for Kongtong or Paeng family – just joining forces with Namgung clan would be enough to subdue the Yangtze.

No – perhaps they wouldn’t even need to go that far. It might be possible to evacuate Namgung clan from the island without casualties.

Then, the aftermath could be dealt with once the other sects arrived to join them.

Right now, the most important thing was reaching the Yangtze before Maninbang.

“Hurry! At once!”

“Yes!”

Shaolin, like a yellow flash of light, charged onward towards the Yangtze.

❀ ❀ ❀

“So, the thing is…”

“…”

At the softly continuing words, his fully puffed cheeks twisted lightly before swelling up again and bulging out.

‘…He is going to explode.’

‘Still, in front of the Sect Leader? No way.’

‘No, it really looks like it’s about to blow…’

But the cheeks, which had looked like they might burst at any second, gradually deflated along with the throbbing vein.

‘He’s holding it in, he’s holding it in.’

‘Ooh.’

‘You’ve grown, Chung Myung…! Your Sasuk is moved.’

Hyun Jong, quietly observing Chung Myung’s complexion, coughed softly.

“So then, this is what you’d call unavoidable circumstances, wouldn’t you?”

“…”

“I’m not saying I want to go. It’s just… ahem. We’re a Just Sect after all, and refusing something like this seems a bit…”

Chung Myung’s gaze slowly dropped downward. A single letter lying on the tea table came into view.

“So, basically…”

“Yes, yes.”

“Uncle Tang… no, Lord Tang.”

“That’s right.”

“Requested assistance, didn’t he?”

“Exactly.”

Hyun Jong’s face brightened as he nodded.

“So the Sect Leader does want to go?”

“Ahem. It’s not about wanting to or not. Wasn’t this something we had already agreed upon?”

“…”

“This isn’t a matter of profit, but of trust and honor. There’s no way around it, is there?”

This time, veins began to pop in Chung Myung’s eyes. Hyun Jong subtly turned his head and stared up at the far-off ceiling. He might be the Sect Leader and a senior figure, but in moments like this, it was terrifying to look that brat in the face.

“Grrrrrrk…”

A groan escaped Chung Myung’s lips.

The situation was quite simple. Chung Myung had firmly declared that he would not get involved in the Yangtze matter. Of course, the official stance of Hwasan was decided by Hyun Jong, not Chung Myung – but as long as Chung Myung had the justification, even Hyun Jong couldn’t override his will.

However, now a single letter from the Yangtze had given Hyun Jong the very justification he had lacked.

“They need more manpower to evacuate the commoners from the Yangtze…?”

“So it seems.”

Chung Myung rubbed his face vigorously with both hands.

“Gah, my damn mouth! This blabbering tongue of mine!”

Then he began slapping his own mouth repeatedly with his hand. Baek Cheon, quietly watching the scene, scratched his chin slightly.

‘So it came to this.’

Not long ago, while discussing the situation at the Yangtze with Tang Gunak, Chung Myung had let something slip.

– Wuhan is a lost cause, sure, but among the people living along the Yangtze, there are some who’d be willing to relocate to Sichuan if we provide proper support.

Tang Gunak had nearly had a fit at the idea of abandoning the civilians he’d been caring for and returning to Sichuan. As a result, a condition was agreed upon for Tang clan’s withdrawal from the Yangtze: the commoners who wished to relocate would be allowed to settle in Sichuan. Hwasan would actively support that relocation.

In the end, Tang Gunak accepted Chung Myung’s proposal, and they were now in the process of moving the Yangtze’s commoners to Sichuan.

But then…

“What do you mean there’s a manpower shortage?! This is THE Sichuan Tang Clan we’re talking about! Huh? THE Tang Clan! What, are they just a group of distant cousins living in some village now? How can they be short on people?!”

“…Hasn’t the situation changed?”

“Agh! Those damn Namgung bastards! They’re never any help, I swear! I should’ve wiped them out completely back then!”

Jo Geol leaned over and whispered to Yoon Jong.

“When exactly is this ‘back then’ he’s talking about?”

“Isn’t he talking about the Yangtze River Disaster? Still, a Taoist saying stuff like that so casually… It really is Chung Myung.”

Normally, Chung Myung would have shot a glare in Yoon Jong’s direction for that comment, but right now, he didn’t have the mental strength left for it.

The situation at the Yangtze was changing more rapidly than even he had anticipated. While he had expected Surochae to occupy Maehwado, when they had first drawn up the plan, that lunatic’s involvement hadn’t even crossed Chung Myung’s mind.

With the emergence of an unforeseen variable, the situation had begun shifting at least a full month ahead of his original expectations.

In other words…

“Originally, we would’ve been able to relocate everyone who wanted to move over the course of about a month, but as you know, the situation along the Yangtze has changed. The timeline’s been pushed up, and since the civilians have learned how bad things have gotten, naturally, more of them want to move to Sichuan.”

“…”

“We can’t exactly say we’re not to blame in this matter… And wasn’t this all done under the name of Cheonumaeng, not Tang Clan? I’m the Leader of the Alliance – how could I just toss the responsibility onto Lord Tang and pretend it’s none of my business…”

“Sect Leader.”

“Hmm?”

“…You just want to go help, don’t you?”

“Khuh-hmm!”

Hyun Jong let out a loud, embarrassed cough, his face flushed red.

‘Seriously, the moment he hears the word commoners, his eyes change.’

How foolish. But…

‘That’s a good thing.’

Chung Myung liked that foolishness about Hyun Jong. No – he deeply respected it. Being foolish out of ignorance is stupidity, but being foolish despite knowing better – that was something truly great.

“So, I think we should at least respond to the request for support…”

“…”

Seeing Chung Myung’s sullen expression, Hyun Jong added hastily, growing anxious.

“I’m not saying we should take any action on the Yangtze itself. We just need to evacuate the commoners who are already there, right? Do you think Shaolin or the other sects rushing to the Yangtze have the capacity to worry about that too?”

“…That bald bastard never worries about stuff like that, even on a good day. He’s got no sense of his surroundings.”

“…R-Right. No sense of surroundings, indeed.”

Yoon Jong quietly asked Baek Cheon,

“Do you think Sect Leader even knows what he’s saying right now?”

“Would he?”

“…”

Hyun Jong, who had just blurted out something that should never be said in front of the ‘bald bastard’, glanced nervously at Chung Myung again.

“So before the damage grows worse… shouldn’t we do something about it?”

Chung Myung let out a heavy sigh.

‘I didn’t even consider this.’

This war had a high chance of escalating far more than he had expected. And in such a war, who would suffer the most?

Shaolin? Surochae? Namgung Clan? Or Maninbang?

Not at all.

The ones who would suffer the greatest losses were the commoners living near the Yangtze River. The martial artists involved in this fight all had their own goals and chose to get involved. If they died, it was on them. But what had the innocent people done, just trying to live their lives peacefully before getting swept up in the chaos?

That was why Hyun Jong was acting this way. To try to prevent even one more needless, tragic death.

“Chung Myung-ah.”

“…”

“Chung Myung-aah.”

“…”

“Chung Myung-aaaaaaaahhhh!!!”

“Agh! Fine, fine! I get it!”

Chung Myung shouted furiously, as if on the verge of snapping. Then he glared at everyone with eyes like sharp blades.

“But! No matter what happens, we are not getting involved in the war at the Yangtze! Absolutely not! Even if those bastards attack us first, I’ll run away – I’m not fighting! I’d rather die than do anything that benefits that damn king of the baldies!”

“Of course, of course! Naturally! This is strictly about helping the civilians! I don’t intend to fight at all – not even a speck!”

“Tsk!”

Chung Myung clicked his tongue and turned his head, glaring at them all with eyes full of displeasure.

‘Idiots.’

The moment they heard the commoners were in danger, their eyes changed. He’d told them countless times to think of themselves first, worn out his own voice saying it – but it was like his words had never even reached their ears.

And yet…

‘Yeah. That’s what Hwasan should be.’

This must have been what Hyun Jong meant when he spoke to Beop Jong. For Hwasan to truly be Hwasan, he must not refuse this call.

“Fine.”

“Oh!”

“Let’s go. Let’s go! All we have to do is get there and evacuate the people, right?!”

“Yes, yes!”

“Agh, seriously! What a mess this is…”

Before another groan could escape Chung Myung’s lips, Hyun Jong shouted urgently,

“Hyun Yeong! Hyun Sang!”

“Yes, Sect Leader!”

“Prepare all the disciples immediately! We leave for the Yangtze at once. Remember – every moment we save could mean another life saved!”

“Yes, Sect Leader!”

The atmosphere in the hall grew fervent.

And just like that…

Hwasan’s journey to the Yangtze was set in motion.

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