He does not disappoint. (4)
“Kill them all!”
The Black Dragon King unleashed his inner strength, causing the Lion Roar to resound. As he watched the Namgung swordsmen, who were now fighting with renewed vigor, his face contorted in grim determination.
“Damn it.”
Exhaustion was just as relentless as before, if not more so. However, their gaze had changed completely. Unlike before, when they were consumed by fear of death, their eyes now brimmed with venom.
Of course, it wouldn’t be easy to annihilate them all, but it seemed inevitable that the casualties would mount. Those who had resigned themselves to death were bound to be relentless.
“You fools…”
The Black Dragon King muttered in frustration.
Why bother prolonging the inevitable? They had boasted and made a fuss, but in the end, hadn’t they only suffered losses?
The Black Dragon King cast a resentful glance at the Yangtze River.
Slowly, in his eyes, he saw a small raft navigating the river’s currents. It appeared remarkably relaxed, as if entirely detached from the brutal carnage unfolding before it.
“…Damn it!”
What angered him most was not the twisted events that Jang Ilso has orchestrated but his inability to question the actions of Jang Ilso that had exacerbated the damage to Surochae.
Thud.
Clearly, their relationship had not been like this when he arrived at the Yangtze River, so where had things gone wrong?
The Black Dragon King’s eyes blazed with savage rage.
The surging anger had to be unleashed.
“Tear them all to shreds! All of them! Don’t kill them easily! Make them die while experiencing the desperate price of opposing Surochae!”
His fury poured out ferociously toward the helpless Namgung swordsmen.
Thud!
The razor-sharp harpoon, imbued with inner strength and honed to perfection, effortlessly pierced through the seasoned bodies of the warriors.
“Ugh…”
The satisfaction in the enemy’s eyes, now filled with fresh blood as their crimson attire, flared as they saw the garments stained anew.
The enemy twisted the impaled harpoons even further. No matter how formidable one might be, the moment a harpoon was lodged in their innards, each one writhed in agony and collapsed on the spot, one by one.
One.
“Heh…”
The Namgung swordsman impaled by the enemies’ weapon suddenly laughed. As his blood-stained teeth were revealed, the iron sword he held in his hand cut through the air like a streak of light.
Swish!
Thud!
The sound of the sword severing bone reverberated dully as the enemy’s head, detached from its neck, shot into the air.
The swordsman, who had been swaying forward as if about to collapse, planted the blood-soaked sword into the ground and forced his trembling head upright.
“G-gulp!”
The one who had thrown the harpoon had now become a headless corpse, but the harpoon was still lodged in the swordsman’s body. The Namgung swordsman decisively swung his sword to cut the shaft of the dart.
Clang!
Cutting the shaft short was akin to using a double-edged sword. It might not hinder his immediate movement, but the remaining dart tips would bury themselves deeper with every motion.
But what did it matter?
Death was the only thing awaiting him, with or without a few dart tips stuck in his corpse.
He already had two harpoons lodged in his body. His left fingers had been completely severed, and the deeply cut shoulder no longer felt any pain. The deepest wound was on his thigh, where blood flowed like a stream from the severed blood vessels.
But that didn’t matter either.
‘It’s not enough at this level.’
Venom filled his eyes.
‘The patriarch endured far worse!’
At least he wouldn’t fall before he had ten harpoons impaled in his body. If all that remained was death, he had to endure one more attack from those in front and behind him.
Swish!
Through his blurred vision, he vaguely saw darts flying. Not one, but two… No, perhaps five?
Knowing wouldn’t make a difference. No matter how many darts there were, blocking them was impossible.
The Namgung swordsman named Namgung Pyo continued to wield his sword while stepping firmly into the battlefield. It was an attack that disregarded defense. An attack born of determination that he would take as many enemies as possible to hell with him, regardless of how many darts pierced his body.
Thud! Thud! Swish!
The sound of darts piercing flesh and the sound of the sword cleaving through bodies echoed simultaneously.
“…”
Namgung Pyo gradually felt the cold metal piercing his throat.
The world grew dark, and death approached.
In that moment, he felt fortunate that his throat had been pierced. At least he wouldn’t scream in agony.
Thud.
The sensation of the ground meeting his body felt heavy and distant. As he realized the world was being swallowed by darkness, he lay down.
It was comfortable.
He wanted nothing more than to rest like this, just like this…
But at that moment, Namgung Pyo opened his eyes halfway. He grasped the sword he had nearly let go of and rose again. The enemies who had already thought he was dead were advancing, trampling over him.
Namgung Pyo, raising from the ground, revealed himself drenched in blood and swung his sword.
“Aaaah!”
“You bastard!”
Caught off guard by the unexpected attack from the ground, the enemies stumbled and fell. Watching this scene, Namgung Pyo chuckled. No, he tried to laugh.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
But it couldn’t be. Impaled by dozens of darts, he had become a porcupine, and there was no more laughter left.
“Young Lord… Take care…”
Thud.
Another life seeped into the Yangtze River.
“Aaaargh!”
The Namgung swordsmen were like ghosts.
Enthusiasm alone wouldn’t change much. Progressing in martial arts required effort, not just enthusiasm.
But now, the Namgung swordsmen were shaking that common sense of martial prowess.
Even when harpoons pierced through their eyes, they swung their swords. Even when darts pierced through their backs and jutted out of their chests, they didn’t scream once.
From their mouths, only fierce roars resounded.
“Die! You dogs of the evil!”
“See how Namgung’s swordsmen die!”
The enemies, too, had always boasted of their venom, and they had clearly overwhelmed Namgung Clan like a pack of scared dogs in their previous battle.
But at this moment, they were undeniably being overwhelmed by the relatively small number of Namgung swordsmen.
Could there be a more fitting sight than warriors rushing forward, disregarding death?
From those who held their intestines flowing from their abdomens while wielding their swords with one hand, to those who grabbed broken swords with bare hands and swung them like madmen, and even those who, despite falling, cut at their opponent’s ankles.
The term “hell” must have been coined for this very moment.
And in the midst of that hellish battlefield, Namgung Myeong swung his sword like a madman.
Thud!
With a dreadful sound, a dart pierced his shoulder. But Namgung Myeong didn’t even blink; he used his steel sword to cleave through the heart of the enemy in front of him.
“Come on!”
Unlike his resounding battle cry, Namgung Myeong’s heart was filled with sorrow. Sacrificing his life was nothing to him; he was already someone who should have died. When Namgung Hwang had cast his life away on this Yangtze River, the person who should have opened the path and died first was him.
The only reason he had continued this harsh existence was because of his Lord’s orders.
But…
“Kuuuh!”
Each suppressed whimper that pierced his ears felt like tearing a piece of his heart away. The moans of those who were dying while biting their tongues to avoid showing weakness were more agonizing than screams and sadder than cries.
“Aaaargh!”
A roar filled with rage burst from Namgung Myeong’s mouth. His sword had now broke aways from Namgung’s Family swordsmanship, and began tracing erratic patterns.
Sometime, every warrior had to grasp a sword and die. Among those who stood here, could there be anyone without that determination?
But…
‘How mournful.’
Unknowingly, tears flowed from Namgungs Myeong’s eyes.
In this desolate place where no one reached out to help, where they couldn’t even scream, it was so heartbreaking and pitiful to die like this that despite trying to endure it, tears kept flowing.
Would the world recognize their sorrow?
Would the world remember their deaths?
“Kuh…”
A voice that seemed like a sob and a cry emerged from Namgung Myeong’s mouth.
“Kuuh…”
The suppressed whimper that escaped from the mouth of a Namgung swordsman with a large sword pierced through his chest brushed against his ears. Another person, who could no longer hold a sword after their arm was pierced, threw away the sword they had held their entire life and lunged forward to grab the enemies in front of them.
For just one more moment, even if it meant saving the person behind them.
Namgung Myeong laughed like he’s gone insane.
“Kuh…”
Desperation.
The situation was already dire with enemies surrounding them from all sides. No matter how they swung their swords, the enemy numbers didn’t diminish. For every one they killed, even more pressed in.
No matter how much they embraced evil and steeled their resolve, they couldn’t do it alone.
‘Are you still watching?’
Namgung Myeong turned his head towards the riverside absentmindedly. Over there, the Shaolin and Gupailbang who were surely watching their end closely.
“Are you still watching… you bastards!”
Clang! Clang!
As he swung his sword erratically, several arrows flew towards him.
“Protect him!”
“Protect the Vice Lord!”
Members of the Azure Sky unit threw their bodies in front of Namgung Myeong desperately, swatting away the arrows with their swords and getting injured instead.
The Vice Lord let out a scream.
“What are you doing! You fools!”
They shouldn’t die like this. They weren’t meant to die so miserably. They weren’t supposed to die so pitifully in a place like this.
Some of them were meant to be heroes of Namgung Clan, while others would become renowned martial artists. At the very least, they were meant to be fathers to someone, friends to someone.
So why were they dying so helplessly like this?
“Ugh, augh…”
Despite his intentions as he charged forward, his legs pierced by arrows refused to move any longer. Among the ones supporting the injured for the past few days, Namgung Myeong was one of the most exhausted here.
In his eyes, as if collapsing right there, it was clearly visible. The sight of dozens of arrows piercing through their backs, blocking their path.
“Uh…”
As he was pushed back by the arrows, a burst of blood covered his face.
At the moment when hot blood poured onto his face, he thought he might get burned. But perhaps what was truly scorching was…
“Ugh…”
He chuckled as if in self-pity, sobbed as if in despair, and then suddenly, Namgung Myeongs head leaned forward. It was as if a criminal was about to be decapitated.
He tried to remain dignified. He wanted to be dignified until the very last moment.
But… it was impossible for him now.
“Lord. I…,”
There were no more tears in his eyes.
“…couldn’t protect Namgung.”
All people are the same.
When there is something desperately unattainable with one’s own strength, one can only hope.
Closing his eyes, bowing his head, holding hands not in enmity but desperately.
“Please, someone…”
A deep sob escaped Namgung Myeong’s lips.
“Someone… please help…”
With a voice that sounded like scraping iron.
“Please…”
It was more desperate than any plea.
However, that emotion could not reach the enemies. One of the Sapas [sapa – evil sects, and the members of evil sects are often addressed as ‘sapa’ or ‘sapa bastards’ etc.] approached the fallen Namgung Myeong, sneering.
“You’re such a pathetic bastard.”
Ching!
The harpoon in his hand made a short cry.
“Help? Crying out for help? Seems like you’re in the situation when even the Shaolin has forsaken tou. Do you think there’s anyone here by the Yangtze River who will help you?”
Among the enemies, one seemed to hold some authority, and as he began to walk slowly, the others followed suit, offering their support.
“All this talk of alliances and justice is just a facade; this is their true nature.”
The moment Namgung Myeong heard those words, his shoulders trembled.
“Don’t worry. Everyone here will die, so you won’t be lonely on the road to the afterlife.”
With a thick sneer, the soldier pulled back the harpoon in his hand, as if preparing to pierce Namgung Myeong’s head in a single blow.
The arrow, pulled taut, was about to be released towards Namgungmyeong’s head.
Shrrrrriiii
An immense, ear-piercing sound erupted, causing the pirate to turn his gaze to the side in alarm.
“What?”
What he saw was a massive disc.
No, it was more like a disc spinning fiercely, hurtling toward him.
“A sword?”
Whaaaang!
Everything came to a halt.
Embedded in the sand peak of Maehwado there was a colossal crater, and the unmistakable sight of a sword stuck firmly within.
“…”
It was a moment of sheer bewilderment at this bizarre spectacle. A line connecting from the tip of his head to his tailbone appeared as if drawn.
Everyone stared at the scene, dumbfounded.
“Uh…”
One of the pirates, sensing the change in his body, hesitantly touched his own face.
“Blood?”
As the palm of his hand gradually became soaked in red blood, a damp sensation was felt. The eyes of the pirate began to tremble. The blood on hos hands increased steadily, and soon it began to flow down his chin.
“W… what…”
Amazement and disbelief.
But that was it.
His bulging eyes started to move erratically, then the body of the pirate split into two, each half collapsing to the ground.
Thud.
For a moment, a chilling silence settled over Maehwa Island. It was a shocking sight, especially after the frenzy of battle had filled the air. Those who had been staring blankly at the scene turned their gaze towards a single point, as if they had made a silent pact.
They looked toward the place where the sword that had saved Namgung Myeong had come from, soaring over the vast Yangtze River.
And they saw it.
The figure of a man standing on the riverside where the blue waters of the Yangtze surged as calm waves. A low groan escaped from Namgung Myeong’s lips.
“Ahh… ah…”
How could they not recognize him? That man in the black robe. The crimson emblem engraved on his left chest like a thread of blood flowing from the heart. Even from this distance, in this blurry vision, his appearance was eerily clear.
“Hwasan…”
Finally, the name flowed fully from Namgung myeong’s lips.
“Hwasan Geomhyeop…”
Chung Myung, with his dark eyes, stared at the boats on the Yangtze and Maehwa Island.
All remained silent in this situation.
A man watching from a large boat not far from Maehwa Island licked his blood-red lips like a crescent moon.
“As expected…”
He laughed as if pleased.
“He does not disappoint.”
________
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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