Return of the Mount Hua

What were you all expecting? (5)

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Standing at the bow, the Black Dragon King looked out at Maehwado, his lips curling slightly.

“The situation?”

“It’s proceeding steadily. Soon, they’ll exhaust the last of their strength.”

“Hmmm.”

The Black Dragon King snorted, seemingly pleased.

‘The Emperor’s Sword.’

At times, the wrath-filled voice of Namgung Hwang could be heard even here. Every time he heard it, the Black Dragon King could hardly suppress the smile rising on his lips.

“What a complete fool.”

Just how stupid must one be to think of confronting Surochae on the water?

Once they set foot on the water, they were no match for Surochae. They were nothing more than prey – prey to be skillfully hunted and served.

“Black Dragon King. The enemy seems sufficiently exhausted now. Perhaps it is time to tighten the reins…?”

“Nonsense.”

The Black Dragon King swept his hand broadly through the air.

“This is just like fishing.”

A sneer tugged at his lips.

“When you’re reeling in a big fish, you mustn’t rely on brute strength. Pull too hard, and the line snaps – you end up losing the very fish you’ve fought to catch. In fishing, what matters isn’t strength. It’s patience.”

The Black Dragon King’s eyes fixed intently on Maehwado. It was the gaze of a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

“Just a little more strength needs to drain away. No matter how massive the fish, once it’s worn out, it can’t help but be hauled onto the boat.”

He jerked his chin towards Maehwado.

“Continue the assault! Like tightening and loosening a fishing line – attack again just when they begin to relax!”

“Yes!”

“Hehehe.”

A triumphant gleam radiated from the Black Dragon King’s eyes.

‘In the end, he’s nothing more than a brat, raised in a greenhouse.’

He acknowledged Namgung Hwang’s skill. That formidable strength and innate dominance were enough to make even the Black Dragon King feel threatened.

But this was Gangho. It’s not a place where victory is determined by strength alone.

By now, Namgung clan must be coming to a painful realization – what it feels like to be a fish caught on a hook.

‘The more you resist, the deeper the hook sinks – and the more your strength drains away.’

The hook, in this case, was the Yangtze River itself, already driven deep into Namgung clan’s throat. There was no way to pull it out by their own power.

Hunger and exhaustion, fear and the faintest flicker of hope.

All of it was surely dragging Namgung clan into the depths of hell.

‘At most, two more days.’

Dragging this out too long wouldn’t be wise either. There’s a right time for everything. According to the Black Dragon King’s calculations, if he let them weaken for just two more days, Surochae alone would be enough to annihilate Namgung clan without a single casualty – no reinforcements needed.

“Continue the assault!”

“Yes!”

The Black Dragon King chuckled quietly.

“Namgung Hwang… I’ll be the one to sever your neck with my own hand.”

His eyes, blazing like fire, looked as if they might devour Maehwado at any moment.

Meanwhile, Namgung Hwang’s eyes were dark and sunken.

The deep shadows cast beneath his hollow gaze seemed to speak of just how consumed he was by anguish.

“…They have no intention of attacking.”

“My Lord…”

Namgung Hwang muttered bitterly as he looked at the ships still encircling the island. If he turned his gaze, he could see them – the members of Namgung clan, utterly exhausted and slumped on the ground.

“…”

After silently watching them for a long while, a sigh escaped Namgung Hwang’s lips.

The attacks had finally ceased.

But he knew the reason they had stopped was not a lack of strength. He understood that alternating between pressing the attack and holding back was far more effective at breaking one’s resolve than relentless assault.

“Namgung Myeong.”

“…Yes, Brother.”

Namgung Myeong had hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to address him as the Lord, but in the end, he said brother – because he sensed that the man Namgung Hwang was calling for wasn’t the head of the Azure Sky Sword Unit, but simply his younger brother.

“Was I wrong?”

Namgung Hwang spoke in a tone heavy with self-mockery.

“Dowi said it. That we had to strike down the Black Dragon King while we still had strength. That otherwise, we’d wither away and die.”

“…Brother…”

“It’s happening just as he said.”

The swordsmen of Namgung clan, collapsed to their knees, no longer seemed to have the strength to wield their swords. All they had left was the pride keeping them from falling face-first into the sand.

But how much longer could that last?

Everyone had already reached their limit. Even Namgung Hwang himself was growing faint from the onslaught of fatigue and drowsiness – how much worse must it be for the others?

“Tell me, Namgung Myeong.”

“…”

“Was I wrong?”

“B-Brother!”

Namgung Myeong spoke in a desperate voice.

“You weren’t wrong. Your decision was the best one. No head of the clan would ever gamble with the lives of his fellow family members!”

“…”

“It’s not over yet. If we can just endure a little longer… just a little longer and reinforcements will surely arrive!”

“Reinforcements, huh…”

Namgung Hwang chuckled softly.

“What if they don’t come?”

“…”

“What if those reinforcements fail to arrive in time – then what?”

“T-That…”

Namgung Myeong couldn’t bring himself to answer. He knew the answer – and so did Namgung Hwang.

“Heh… heh heh…”

Namgung Hwang’s shoulders began to tremble.

“I can’t bear it. I can’t…”

Crack.

He clenched his fist so hard his knuckles popped out.

“What I truly can’t bear isn’t death. It’s not even the annihilation of Namgung Clan.”

“…”

“To think… those men, who for the past three years endured agonizing training, trusting only in me… that I might not even allow them to die as swordsmen, but instead let them be hunted down like animals… That thought… that thought fills me with unbearable grief and guilt.”

Namgung Hwang’s voice trembled.

Unable to contain his rage and sorrow, unable to endure the revulsion rising within himself.

“…Brother…”

“Did I truly make that choice for the future of our clan?”

“…What?”

Though the words were directed at Namgung Myeong, they were not truly meant for him. They were a question hurled inward – at himself.

“Or was I simply afraid?”

Namgung Myeong held his breath and said nothing. His brother’s voice was so heavy, no shallow comfort could reach him.

“Was I afraid to stake the clan’s fate – and their lives – on my sword alone?”

Namgung Myeong bit down hard on his lip instead of answering.

Not once had he ever seen Namgung Hwang like this. Though they weren’t far apart in age, Namgung Hwang had always been like a towering mountain to him – unshakable and tall.

And yet now, that very mountain was crumbling.

“Brother! You mustn’t speak this way. You are the Lord of Namgung Clan! Even if the whole world trembles, you must not waver!”

“…Yes. Yes, that’s what it means to be the Lord.”

Namgung Hwang slowly closed his eyes.

The Lord. The weight of this word was now pressing down on him with crushing force.

“I…”

Namgung Hwang spoke with a bitter smile.

“There hasn’t been a single time I didn’t feel regret for being born in this era.”

“…”

It was a somewhat sudden confession, but Namgung Myeong didn’t interrupt. Right now, Namgung Hwang simply needed someone to listen.

“In this peaceful age, there’s no place for my sword to be raised.”

Namgung Hwang’s gaze drifted towards the distant sky.

“If only I had been born a hundred years ago, during that era of chaos… I was certain I could’ve earned glory beyond compare and saved the world. I would’ve slain the Heavenly Demon with my sword.”

“…Brother…”

“But…”

A chuckle slipped from Namgung Hwang’s lips.

“They fought wars like this for years, didn’t they…? They endured a hell far beyond this – watched their beloved families and disciples cough blood and have their throats slit right before their eyes – and still, they fought. They just kept fighting…”

“…”

“How could they do it? How… how did their spirits never break?”

There was no strength in Namgung Hwang’s voice. Never in his life had he felt so small.

“I… who can’t even summon the courage to strike down the Black Dragon King and save my clan… I dare to speak of an age of chaos? Of the Heavenly Demon? Heh… heh heh heh.”

He laughed as he shook his head.

“I was just a foolish pup that didn’t know its place. That’s all I was. Just…”

His fist trembled violently, clenched as though it might shatter.

“…Brother…”

“I know.”

But before Namgung Myeong could offer any words of comfort, Namgung Hwang shook his head.

“I know full well this isn’t the time for this.”

“…”

“Commander of the Azure Sky Unit.”

“Yes, My Lord!”

“The enemy will launch a full-scale assault within the next few days. They’ll try to finish this after draining every last drop of our strength.”

“Yes.”

“Until then, do whatever it takes to let the clan members rest in rotation.”

Namgung Hwang clenched his teeth.

“At the very least, we must not let them die without even swinging their swords once.”

“I’ll carry out your orders!”

Namgung Myeong ran off towards the gathered swordsmen. Namgung Hwang watched him go in silence, then let out another deep sigh.

Thus, the attacks continued endlessly.

With nowhere left to take cover, Namgung clan changed tactics and formed a circular formation at the center of the island. Those on the outer rim shielded those inside, taking turns so each could rest, however briefly.

Of course, there was no such thing as true rest – not when shells were falling and enemy raiders crept in like gnawing vermin – but even a short break from swinging a sword meant saving some strength.

Still, it wasn’t an ideal solution.

Now that they had drawn inward, the swordsmen of Namgung could view their surroundings more clearly than before – and with that clarity came a sobering, piercing awareness of just how dire their situation truly was.

A faint hope.

That someone, somehow, would come to save them. At the desperate yet groundless belief, they clung to with all their might – that was the only thing keeping them going.

But… a day passed, then two, and by the third day…

Salvation did not come.

“…”

Namgung Dowi forced his eyes open and gazed at the scorching sun.

The sunlight was warm, truly – but even that warmth now felt suffocating, too heavy to bear.

‘…They haven’t come?’

Instinctively, he turned his head towards the riverbank, but still, no one was in sight. He could not help but resent how empty the riverbank was.

“Kuhak.”

A dry cough escaped his lips. He had drunk enough water, and yet his whole body felt like it had been wrung dry.

‘Can I hold on any longer?’

No – that wasn’t the question. Whether he could or couldn’t didn’t matter. He had to. No matter what.

Because there were others, suffering more than he was, still holding on.

Namgung Dowi, driven by instinct, gripped his sword and drove it into the ground. Using it for support, he forced himself to stand with great effort.

His eyes, gleaming with rage, fixed on the ships of the enemy. Those vessels surrounding Maehwado – how hateful they were, how loathsome…

“…!”

Suddenly, Namgung Dowi’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wh… What…”

His mouth fell open of its own accord, and the corners of his eyes trembled violently.

“G-Get up! Everyone, get up!”

A strained cry burst from his throat.

The ships that had been circling Maehwado like vultures, slowly strangling Namgung clan, had all at once turned their prows towards the island!

Blood spurted from Namgung Dowi’s lips, but he didn’t even notice it as he screamed with all his might.

“They’re coming! It’s an attack!”

A full-scale assault – this was Surochae’s final strike, meant to crush Namgung clan’s last breath.

The final chapter of this long, long hell on the Yangtze was starting to unfold.

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