Return of the Mount Hua

I’m going to show them what true despair is. (3)

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He may not be the strongest.

He is Jang Ilso, called the Supreme of the Evil Sect, but no one can say for certain whether his martial prowess is truly the greatest in the world. No – no one even tried to find out.

The reason? It’s all too simple.

Because such things don’t matter in the slightest.

In Gangho, one’s standing is determined solely by strength. To build a reputation in this ‘Mountain of Blades and Forest of Swords’*, one must prove their might time and time again.

But this man… this man was different.

Paegun Jang Ilso.

His name alone stands out, utterly alien in this world of Gangho.

Even if Jang Ilso’s martial skill amounted to nothing more than that of a third-rate street thug, everyone under the heavens would still say the same thing with one voice:

That this man… is the most dangerous figure in Gangho today.

A viper carrying deadly poison slithered slowly across the sandy ground. His footsteps weren’t threatening, but light; not heavy, but graceful. It was a leisurely stride, as if he were out for a stroll nearby.

Yet not a single person on Maehwado could take their eyes off him.

“…”

Dry gulps echoed in silence.

No one had ordered them to cease fighting. And yet, the battle had come to a natural halt.

At least Namgung Myeong thought he understood why.

No rabbit fights over territory when a wolf is standing right before them.

The moment Jang Ilso revealed himself, everyone present instinctively realized that now was not the time to be fighting each other.

“Hmmm.”

A low voice, tinged with a hum of amusement, drifted along the wind blowing through Maehwado.

“You…”

Jang Ilso’s gaze turned to Namgung Hwang.

“…you’re quite a sight, aren’t you…”

Namgung Hwang clenched his fist tightly. He felt as if a cold, scaly snake were constricting his throat.

And truthfully, that feeling wasn’t just in his head. Through Namgung Hwang’s eyes, he could see the ships that had followed Jang Ilso – not docking at the island, but leisurely turning to block the river between Maehwado and Shaolin.

Even if Shaolin decided to come to their aid now, it would be too late to break through.

Contrary to his unhurried steps, Jang Ilso was steadily tightening the noose around their necks.

As if to confirm it, warriors of Maninbang who had disembarked ran up and lined up behind Jang Ilso. And from among them, Ho Gamyeong stepped forward, standing beside him, as if on guard.

Even knowing full well that this was no situation for laughter, Namgung Hwang felt a bitter chuckle rising in his throat.

Jang Ilso and ‘a guard’ – could there be any two words more ill-fitting together?

Just then, the corner of Jang Ilso’s mouth curled up slyly.

“The great Namgung Clan of the world… how did it end up in such a pitiful state, hmm?”

His snake-like gaze choked the breath from the weary swordsmen of Namgung clan. Drawing in a deep breath, Jang Ilso let out a laugh.

How delightful.

He found this sight bone-chillingly enjoyable.

Namgung Clan of the Azure Sky.

Are not the eyes of those who once shone with brilliant prestige now filled with emptiness and despair?

Some fixed him with gazes brimming with murderous intent, and still others looked at him with eyes pleading for whatever mercy might have remained.

All these different gazes converged on a single man – Jang Ilso.

Yet there was one thing they all had in common.

Not a trace of hope could be found among them.

Step. Step.

Jang Ilso stepped forward.

The pirates blocking the path before Namgung clan instinctively stepped to either side with clear expressions of fear. In the place that had once been so tightly packed that there was not even room to set a foot down, a wide path opened up as if by magic.

Jang Ilso walked down that path leisurely, as if it were only natural.

At last, his steps came to a halt before the vanguard unit of Namgung clan, the Azure Sky Sword Unit.

They were the ones who had defended the front line.

Namgung clan’s pride – their peerless sword masters.

A short but brutal battle had just taken place. Thanks to that, the members of the Azure Sky Unit still barely standing were cut and stabbed all over, their bodies drenched in blood.

As Jang Ilso approached, they instinctively raised their swords and pointed them at him, baring their teeth like cornered beasts.

But Jang Ilso continued towards them with the same gait, as if he didn’t even see the blades aimed at his throat.

Flinch.

Instead, it was the swords of the Azure Sky Sword Unit that began to tremble.

It was a bizarre and chilling sight – the ones holding swords were the ones shaking, while the one barehanded, who was being threatened, wore a faint smile.

“D-Don’t come…”

One of the Azure Sky swordsmen standing directly before Jang Ilso managed to squeeze out a trembling voice. He thrust the tip of his sword even closer, as if he might pierce Jang Ilso’s throat at any moment.

However, Jang Ilso looked as if he knew that the sword would never pierce his throat… no, perhaps he looked as if it would not matter even if it did.

When he finally came to a halt, the bloodstained tip of the sword was almost touching his neck.

All it would take was a single thrust.

Just channeling some internal energy and pushing his arm forward would be enough to punch a hole through that pale white throat. All it required was a little courage.

And yet…

The sword could not go any further. It merely trembled so pathetically that it was hard to believe it was being held by a swordsman of Namgung clan. No, it even seemed to be retrieved further back.

“Hmm.”

With an alluring smile, Jang Ilso slowly reached out and pressed his finger against the trembling blade.

Rustle.

In that moment, they saw.

Jang Ilso’s fingertip had split ever so slightly, and a single drop of bright red blood slid down the blade.

“…”

Until they saw that sight, everyone had vaguely thought:

There was no way that hand could be wounded by such a common sword. That was why they were afraid.

But the instant they saw that single drop of blood, their hearts tightened even more painfully.

Someone who does not fear death because they do not bleed, and someone who bleeds yet does not fear death.

Which one would be more terrifying?

Shrrk.

Jang Ilso’s white fingers, adorned with lavish jewelry, slowly slid along the trembling blade. He caressed the bloodstained sword gently, until finally, he reached the back of Azure Sky swordsman’s hand that was tightly gripping the hilt.

Jang Ilso’s fingers, cold like a snake, slowly crept up the swordsman’s arm, brushed over his shoulder, stained his pale cheek with blood, and finally reached his forehead.

It was nothing more than a very light and slow movement, and yet, everyone held their breath and watched the scene unfold, unable to even breathe. It was as if they had been bewitched.

In that moment.

Jang Ilso’s hand, which had been using only one finger, spread wide.

Just as everyone flinched at the sudden change.

Tap.

Jang Ilso’s large hand covered the head of the Azure Sky Unit’s swordsman.

It was a gesture akin to tenderly patting the head of a small child.

“…So pitiful.”

Jang Ilso’s affectionate voice, filled with compassion, resonated softly.

“After fighting so earnestly…”

The Azure Sky swordsman began to tremble.

The swordsmen of Namgung clan, who were witnessing this, bit down on their lips until blood flowed from them.

What words could describe such a situation, where they received consolation from their enemy, and even found fleeting comfort in that consolation?

When Jang Ilso had first appeared here, had even a single person ever imagined such a sight?

Jang Ilso slowly shook his head.

Then he opened his mouth again.

“And yet, in the end…”

He uttered the very words the swordsmen of Namgung clan most desperately did not want to hear.

“You’ve been abandoned.”

In that instant, everyone felt as if the air had been sucked out of their lungs.

They had glimpsed despair, then hope, only to be hurled from the hill of hope into the abyss of hell.

If there was anything they truly, absolutely never wanted to hear – it were those words.

“So pitiful… Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Jang Ilso’s eyebrows genuinely softened, as if moved with pity.

At that loathsome sight, Namgung Hwang clenched his teeth so hard it felt as if they might shatter. He could no longer simply stand by and watch.

“Jang… Ilso!”

At the sound, Jang Ilso slowly turned his head. He was nothing short of being puzzled, as if he had forgotten Namgung Hwang was even there.

“…Don’t toy with us.”

“Toy with us?”

Jang Ilso repeated the word as if it were amusing, then laughed.

“Yes! Toying! A warrior would rather die than suffer humiliation! Kill us cleanly instead!”

At Namgung Hwang’s words, Jang Ilso lifted the corners of his mouth into a smile.

“How strange… The more I hear it, the stranger it sounds.”

“…What’s so strange about it?”

“When have I ever toyed with you?”

“…”

That guileless expression of pure innocence – it was impossible for anyone to believe it wasn’t an act.

But that wasn’t what mattered.

What mattered was how much he could shake them with just a single expression, a single gesture.

“It isn’t me who’s been toying with you… it’s Shaolin across the river, isn’t it?”

“What nonsense is this!”

“Is it not?”

Jang Ilso’s hand rose into the air.

With a grand, exaggerated gesture, his hand pointed towards the sky and then slowly lowered to point beyond the river, towards Shaolin.

“Look.”

“…”

“It’s just a river. There’s no real reason it can’t be crossed. Even if some pathetic boats are blocking your path, if you can’t cross a river, how can the name Shaolin still carry any weight?”

Namgung Hwang bit his lips.

“But what are they doing now? They’re just watching. They’re merely spectators while you meet your end here.”

“Jang Ilso!”

“That is what…”

As he lowered his arm, a blatant sneer formed at the corner of Jang Ilso’s mouth.

“…is called mockery.”

Namgung Hwang clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Jang Ilso continued speaking.

“They rushed here as if they were mighty saviors, as if they would rescue you without fail, but in the end, they have no intention of shedding even a drop of blood to save you. That is the value they place on you.”

Namgung Hwang knew.

He was not furious because he was being mocked.

It was because there wasn’t a single falsehood in the words that man had spoken – that was what made it so unbearably painful.

A scream he could not voice welled up in his throat.

“…So what? Are you saying you’ll laugh at us now, seeing us in this miserable state?”

He ground his teeth as he spoke.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jang Ilso! Namgung will never be anyone’s plaything! If death is our fate, then we will fight to the last man! The fact that we were abandoned will never tarnish the name of Namgung!”

He spat out the words so recklessly that he himself hardly knew what he was saying.

But the rage contained in his voice clearly reached the hearts of those who bore the name of Namgung.

A spark returned to the eyes of some who had begun to lose their focus.

“Hmm.”

Jang Ilso shook his head, as if in troubled amusement.

“Come then, Jang Ilso! I’ll be the first to die!”

Namgung Hwang gathered all his internal energy.

It was his duty to show first to the swordsmen of Namgung, who trembled in fear, that a warrior proves himself through death.

As Namgung Hwang drew up his energy, looking ready to charge at any moment, Jang Ilso merely watched him in silence.

Just as Namgung Hwang gripped his beloved sword and prepared to rush forward, Jang Ilso’s lips slowly parted.

“…Shall I…?”

Namgung Hwang’s body froze in place, as if struck by lightning.

Disbelief and horror, and then despair and anticipation.

All these emotions surged through Namgung Hwang’s eyes in a furious storm within the span of a brief instant.

“Wha… what…”

That was the whisper of a devil.

It was something he should have never listened to.

And yet, Namgung Hwang, in this moment, could not help but hear it.

Stammering, as if even his mouth refused to open, he finally managed to force out the words.

“…What did you say?”

Jang Ilso smiled broadly.

He looked like a demon who had crawled out of hell to stand above mankind and offer them temptation.

Through his blood-red lips, he casually threw out the same words, in the same tone as before.

“Shall I spare your life?”

“…”

A deep and heavy silence settled over Maehwado.

“Hahahaha…”

And in the midst of that silence the demon laughed.

“Ahahahahahahahahahaha! Uhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

Jang Ilso’s laughter, mingled with the jingling of his ornaments, flooded Maehwado like the wailing of ghosts.

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*No hanja was provided but I assume it’s a widespread metaphor of murim novels: 도산검림(刀山劍林). 

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