What were you all expecting? (4)
“…”
Baek Cheon’s face twisted ever so slightly.
Let’s be honest. Yeah – let’s be completely honest.
He fully understood that joining the Yangtze expedition might mean playing right into Shaolin’s schemes. Baek Cheon might still be young, but in terms of experience, he could easily surpass most first-generation disciples of other sects.
He could also fully understand why that lunatic Chung Myung would start frothing at the mouth and having fits the moment the word ‘Yangtze’ was mentioned.
But that didn’t mean Baek Cheon didn’t want to go to the Yangtze.
As a disciple of Hwasan, Baek Cheon had no desire to be dragged into the chaos at the Yangtze.
But as a swordsman… he wanted nothing more than to rush there right now.
Why?
‘Because what’s the point of all this training if I never get to use it?!’
For the past three years, Baek Cheon and the other disciples of Hwasan had gone through literal hell.
Hwasan’s training was already so intense that any other sect watching from the sidelines would mutter, ‘Those bastards have completely lost it.’ But the one who had systematized and enforced that brutal training was that insane madman of a teacher – and he had gone all in, without mercy. So what must those three years have been like?
Just remembering it made his body tremble, his teeth grind, his knees ache, and tears well up in his eyes.
So now, wasn’t it only right to prove it?
The desire to slam the heads of those damned Sapaeryeon’s scum – who had driven them into that hellish training – with his plum blossom sword and shout, ‘This is what I trained for!’ wasn’t something exclusive to Baek Cheon.
The wish to repay every tear shed over the last three years with blood – wasn’t that the shared sentiment of every swordsman of Hwasan?
So, to be perfectly honest…
He was secretly a little thrilled.
Whatever the reason, once they went to the Yangtze, they’d inevitably get tangled up with the bastards from the Evil Sects – and that meant they could return every ounce of pain they’d suffered, just as it had been dealt.
But…
What greeted Baek Cheon as he descended Hwasan, heart pounding with excitement, was not the glorious future of becoming a revered swordsman of Gangho, but a past he didn’t even want to remember.
“Uh…”
Baek Cheon opened his mouth, his voice tinged with irritation and a faint tremble.
“Chung Myung-ah?”
“Yeah?”
“…What is this?”
Chung Myung let out a short laugh.
“Has a man so young come down with dementia? Don’t you recognize it?”
“Of course I know what it is, you bastard!”
“Then why are you asking?”
“I’m asking why this is here!”
Baek Cheon’s voice rose, and his trembling fingertip pointed towards the dozens of carts stationed at the entrance to Hwaeum – and to Hwang Jong-ui, who stood in front of them, beaming with satisfaction.
Unaware of Baek Cheon’s inner turmoil, Hwang Jong-ui greeted Chung Myung with a radiant smile.
“Looks like we made it in time, Dojang.”
Chung Myung grinned brightly and firmly shook his hand.
“Ah, you’ve worked so hard. Thank you.”
“It was your request, Dojang. Of course I had to see it through. As you mentioned, these carts are reinforced more than before. Even if Hwasan’s swordsman smashes them with a sword, they won’t break so easily.”
“Kkkkk! If anyone knows the quality of carts from the Eunha Merchant Guild, it’s me. These look solid!”
“Haha. As you can see, we’ve enlarged these carts to carry even more goods, and we paid special attention to the riding comfort so people can board them as well. And we doubled the weight capacity compared to the previous ones.”
At that moment, Jo Geol raised his hand high.
“Sorry to interrupt, but!”
“Go ahead, Jo Geol Dojang.”
“Usually… wouldn’t you brag about reducing the weight by half…?”
“Ordinarily, yes. But since this was a request from Chung Myung Dojang, I gave it my all.”
Jo Geol turned to look at Chung Myung, his face drained of all life in an instant. Chung Myung asked bluntly.
“What? What is it?”
“…You bastard.”
Of course.
At that moment, Chung Myung glanced around at the Five Swords and grinned slyly.
His expression looked so vicious that even the disciples of Hwasan, who still didn’t understand what was happening, instinctively shivered.
“Oh my dear Sahyeong, my dear Sasuk.”
“…”
“What were you all expecting? Were you all thinking we would go to the Yangtze and swing your swords around in heroic battles against those Sapa bastards?”
He let out a chuckle as he watched Hwasan’s disciples flinch.
“Wake up from that dream, will you? Didn’t I say it already? We’re not fighting! Why would we even go there? Yoon Jong Sahyeong!”
“We’re going to rescue civilians.”
“More precisely, we’re going to relocate them. Move them! Do you know what that’s called in this world?”
“What… is it called…”
“Transportation! It’s called transportation, you fools!”
Chung Myung snorted.
“When you think transportation – you think Hwasan! And when you think Hwasan – of course, it’s transportation!”
“Since when, you crazy bastard?!”
“It’s always been that way!”
The moment those words left his mouth, every single disciple of Hwasan came to a solemn realization.
‘This bastard… he’s really making us go haul cargo.’
It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on the small flame that had just begun to flicker in their hearts.
But then, Baek Cheon suddenly realized something and his eyes went wide.
“W-Wait a second.”
“Yeah?”
“When did you even tell them to prepare these carts?”
“When we visited Eunha Merchant Guild, I put in the request.”
“T-Then you’ve known since then that this would happen…?!”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Huh?”
Chung Myung smirked.
“It’s just that everyone’s gotten healthier these days, and your internal energy has improved too. So I figured… you’d be fine handling carts a bit bigger than before.”
“…”
“And since we were already making them, I thought we might as well have extras made. They could come in handy somewhere. Didn’t expect to use them like this, though…”
“…”
So in other words, the moment the gates reopened, he’d already been calculating how to wring every last drop of use out of them?
“Demonic bastard.”
“Even dogs wouldn’t bite him.”
“He definitely chose the wrong sect. If he’d gone to an Evil Sect, he would’ve rewritten martial arts history – several times over.”
“Shut up.”
Chung Myung waved his hand as if shooing away a swarm of flies.
“Stop daydreaming and just grab the carts! From now on, you, Sahyeongs, are oxen. Not swordsmen – oxen! Our mission is to reach the Yangtze at top speed and move every single commoner to safety without leaving anyone behind!”
“…”
“Questions?”
“…No, you bastard.”
The hearts of Hwasan’s disciples, which had been swelling with dreams of heroism, were now filled with a deep, pitch-black gloom.
“Ahem, these carts are quite well made.”
“Hmm… We should check if they’ll hold up well when common folk are riding in them.”
“Indeed, Sect Leader. It’s an important matter.”
And that darkness grew even deeper when the elders of the Hyun generation casually climbed aboard the carts, and the Un generation, after glancing around sheepishly, followed with awkward coughs.
Hyun Jong chuckled warmly.
“Chung Myung is right. Carrying out righteous deeds doesn’t always mean fighting with swords. Helping people with what they need most – that, too, is the path of a hero. Do you think the people want us to fight for them? Or do they want us to help them?”
It was a beautiful sentiment.
It would have sounded even more noble if he hadn’t said it while already seated comfortably in a cart.
Sect Leader… you look very comfortable, don’t you?
“No time! Grab on, let’s move!”
“…”
The disciples of Hwasan trudged towards the carts with the expressions of oxen being led to slaughter. The familiar sensation at their fingertips as they gripped the handles only made them all the more sorrowful.
Ah… even after three years, I still can’t shake this feeling from my hands.
“Hahahaha.”
Hwang Jong-ui, watching from the side, let out a satisfied laugh.
“Normally, the handles would be a bit larger, but since these carts were made for Hwasan Sect, I took extra care. I crafted the grips to match the thickness of your sword hilts exactly, so you shouldn’t feel any discomfort while using them.”
…Truly, thank you.
What touching consideration, Danju.
“Huup!”
With a light hop, Chung Myung jumped up onto the leading cart.
“All right! We’re heading straight to the Yangtze in one go! Let’s go! Run, Dongryong!”
“Ah, damn it!”
“Let’s gooooo!”
No sooner had Chung Myung shouted than the massive, heavy carts shot forward with incredible speed that made their weight seem like nothing at all.
“Whoever gets there last is getting used as a spare wheel, so run like hell is upon you!”
Groans, curses, and shouts of pain rang out in a wild chorus. The carts, accelerating furiously, vanished into the distance in the blink of an eye.
“Huhuhuhuhu.”
Left behind, Hwang Jong-ui burst into a hearty laugh.
“May fortune smile upon you.”
He gave a deep palm-fist salute towards the rising cloud of dust far, far away.
❀ ❀ ❀
Kwaaaaang!
Namgung Dowi’s hands were trembling. A bitter taste filled his mouth, and his whole body felt as heavy as cotton submerged into water.
But no time for rest was granted to him.
“Taaaah!”
He leapt up from where he stood and struck down the incoming shell in one swift motion.
Kwang!
The shell and his sword collided with a thunderous roar.
“Grrk.”
Shells like that were nothing, really. If he had been in perfect condition, he could have swatted it away like a feather.
But to him now, that shell was unbearably heavy and burdensome.
“Damn it all…”
He felt like he finally understood what it meant to wither away.
They never rushed. They didn’t bombard them with such intensity that they were forced to retreat, nor did they deploy more troops than necessary. They simply kept nibbling at the riverbank – just enough to keep them from ever sitting down.
In short, their attacks were lukewarm.
And yet, because those lukewarm attacks continued day after day, he found himself wishing they’d just face them head-on, even if it meant being completely wiped out.
Bit by bit, but surely, they were eating away at Namgung Clan.
Kwang!
“Uaaaaaaaagh!”
A scream rang out from somewhere.
Just two days ago, everyone would have turned their heads in alarm at that scream. They would have shouted out in rage.
But not anymore. They had gotten used to it.
It was no longer unusual on Maehwado to see someone, their focus momentarily broken, get hit by a shell they would have easily dodged under normal circumstances.
Namgung Dowi turned around with a twisted expression.
The faces of the Azure Sky Sword Unit no longer showed emotions like despair or anger.
Only helplessness.
The faces once brimming with youthful vigor were gone. Now, they more closely resembled those of men dragged off to a foreign land, forced to row at the oars of a galley.
That look of resignation in the face of an unbearable situation – that was what now marked the faces of the Azure Sky Sword Unit.
‘We should have attacked.’
It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand Namgung Hwang’s decision. But understanding didn’t mean he thought it was the best course of action.
‘What should I have done? What could I have done?’
And what should he do now?
Just then, another shell came flying towards the island. In Namgung Dowi’s eyes, he caught the sight of Namgung’s swordsman standing in a daze, unable to react to the incoming projectile.
It was the moment the swordsman’s face turned deathly pale as he belatedly noticed the shell flying at him from close range.
Before his mind could even process it, his body moved.
Kwaaaaaaang!
Namgung Dowi dashed like a streak of light and struck down the shell, gritting his teeth. Perhaps because he had no time to channel his energy properly in his hurried swing, the hand gripping the sword tore open, spilling crimson blood.
“Y-Young Lord…”
Thud!
Namgung Dowi grabbed the shoulder of the swordsman of the Azure Sky Sword Unit, who had just barely escaped danger, with a firm grip.
The swordsman clenched his eyes shut, certain he was about to be cursed at.
“Just hold on a little longer!”
But what came from Namgung Dowi’s mouth was not a reprimand – it was encouragement.
His voice, with a resonance distinctly unlike that of Namgung Hwang, echoed across the entire island.
“Clench your teeth! We are Namgung Clan! We may die fighting, but we are never permitted to give up on our own!”
“Young Lord!”
“The opportunity will come! And if it doesn’t, I’ll make one myself! I won’t let you die here without swinging your sword even once! So…!”
Namgung Dowi roared, his voice boiling with fury.
“Trust me and hold on just a bit longer! Until the moment we pay them back for this pain and humiliation – tenfold!”
The light returned to the eyes of Namgung clan’s swordsmen, which had grown dull.
With clenched jaws, they nodded. Their bloodshot eyes now fixed fiercely on the ships surrounding the island.
Grit.
Namgung Dowi, too, bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he glared at the Black Dragon Ship floating on the Yangtze River.
It was a truly imposing sight.
But hidden desperately inside his sleeve, his fingertips were trembling uncontrollably.
‘Anyone… anyone at all, please… Please, hurry.’
Before this faint spark they had barely rekindled was extinguished again…
________
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