Return of the Mount Hua

He does not disappoint. (5)

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If someone had to convey the current scene to another person, what on earth could they say? Even the most exquisite speakers would find it nearly impossible to put into words.

Is it because it’s difficult to describe the situation? No, it’s because no one would believe it without seeing it with their own eyes.

Think about it. The individuals present here are all incredibly formidable in their own right. Close at hand, there’s the Shaolin, known as the best martial arts school in the world. Farther away, there’s the Surochae, and the many member of Maninbang, the ruler of Gangnam.

Just the prestige of these factions alone is enough to make powerful individuals from all over the world converge here. Yet, they all fell silent in unison at the appearance of a single young swordsman.

Hwasan Geomhyeop. The name is undoubtedly impressive. It holds a special distinction that sets it apart from any other titles held by those present. But that’s it. No matter how impressive the title may be, it is absolutely impossible to silence everyone gathered here, let alone in the entire world. It’s not just a limitation of Hwasan Geomhyeop – it’s a limitation that applies to anyone in the world.

Therefore, one learns that the sense of presence a person carries is not determined by their reputation.

Chung Myung’s dark, clear eyes slowly scanned the Yangtze River. Everyone present in this scene, under his gaze, held their breath.

Yet, they couldn’t understand why, even as they remained silent, they were so captivated by his every move.

Chung Myung’s slowly moving gaze eventually settled on one place – Maehwado, where the survivors of Namgung were engaged in a desperate battle.

“Ah…”

Namgung Myeong’s body trembled.

He was there.

Only one person, but someone who had come to help them. Whether anything would change remains uncertain. This colossal battlefield is not something one person can easily handle. And it doesn’t matter if he’s not alone; even if someone else comes now, they can’t cross this river to save them.

So, hoping that Hwasan Geomhyeop will rescue them might be an excessive expectation.

However…

‘…That’s enough.’

Everyone in the world had forsaken them. Turned away from them. Perhaps what truly plunged him into despair wasn’t just the dire situation they faced but the agonizing loneliness of no one extending a helping hand.

But at least there was one person. Someone who had rushed to help them. As if to prove that the path they had taken was not entirely wrong. For Namgung Myeong at this moment, that alone was sufficient.

It was precisely when Namgung Myeong, with his reddened eyes, looked at Chung Myung.

“These bastards…”

The Black Dragon King, who had risen to become the top fighter of the Black Dragon Line, coldly muttered with a resounding voice. Upon hearing his voice, the soldiers quivered like a young puppy that had encountered a tiger at its doorstep.

With simmering eyes, the Black Dragon King turned to glare at the soldiers and then faced Chung Myung.

“You, little one.”

And he gritted his teeth.

For a brief moment, the presence of this “little one” surpassed everyone else here, right here on the Yangtze River. It was an unbearable humiliation for the Black Dragon King, who led the The Black Dragon Fortress.

If he hadn’t been humiliated by Jang ilso, he might have let it pass, but having already been subdued once by Jang Ilso, he couldn’t bear this situation any longer.

“What do you intend to do?”

His voice, filled with anger, erupted explosively.

“The only thing you can do is probably vent your frustration there. Whatever you do won’t change a thing.”

It was a statement meant to belittle the opponent, but at the same time, it was an undeniable and stark reality.

The situation had already come to an end, after all.

“Or do you plan to swim across the river to this island? The way is already cut off. You fool!”

However, despite hearing these words, Chung Myung’s expression remained unchanged. He simply stared at the Black Dragon King with a cold gaze.

This indifferent response twisted something inside him. Just as he was about to let out a furious shout, Chung Myung, whose mouth had been closed all along, slowly began to speak.

“Whether you can understand it with that thick skull of yours or not…”

“…What?”

“I’ll clarify three things for you.”

Three things?

“First, who said I’m alone?”

Thump. Thump.

At that moment, someone slowly walked up from beneath the riverbank where he stood. Clad in a black robe with the plum blossom pattern embroidered on the chest and a white hero’s belt tied around his forehead, he was an impressive man.

Hwasan Jeonggeom [화산정검(華山正劍) – again it is something along the lines of righteous/diligent/compassionate sword] Baek Cheon.

With eyes as cold as ice, he walked slowly toward Chung Myung. His gaze seemed cold enough to freeze all of Surochae’s soldiers in place.

But Baek Cheon wasn’t alone either. Binggeom Maehwa [빙검매화(氷劍梅花) – Ice Sword of Plum Blossoms] Yu Iseol approached and stood next to Chung Myung.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Following them, one by one, a group of swordsmen began to arrive at this spot. They reached this place one by one, from one to ten, from ten to a hundred, and they all revealed themselves with resolute steps. Every one of them had a chilling gaze.

“…?”

The sound of someone swallowing dry resonated like thunder.

Hwasan.

The name that couldn’t be explained merely as a Shaanxi sword sect anymore. Hwasan had finally arrived at the Yangtze River.

“Yo… Young Lord…”

Namgung Myeong saw it.

A man who appeared among the formidable figures of the Hwasan Faction, exuding a chilling aura, his white robe soaked in dried blood, but how could Namgung Myeong not recognize him?

Young Lord Namgung Dowi.

He stood there as if he was part of the Hwasan sect. While the clothes and his complexion hinted at the immense suffering he had endured, the intense determination in his eyes was as formidable as Hwasan’s itself.

Over a hundred swordsmen arrived one by one, staring at the pirates with cold eyes.

It was indeed a grim scene. The Hwasan Faction, unlike any time in the past, was imposing an awe-inspiring presence on the Sapaeryeon. Everyone present had seen that Hwasan during the Yangtze Calamity in the past. That’s why they knew.

The reason Hwasan is fearsome isn’t because they are powerful. It’s because they are an unwavering sect. Facing a sect that never backs down from anything was as challenging as it sounds.

And it wasn’t just Hwasan that had arrived.

“It doesn’t seem like we’re completely late.”

A group dressed in green attire revealed themselves. Even if you looked at their distinct wide sleeves, if you didn’t know who they were, you had no right to cross swords with them.

“S- Sichuan Tang!”

Leading the Sichuan Tang clan, Tang Gunak appeared with a stern face, as if he was determined to remember the faces of those who had died here. As if he would remember them clearly.

Namgung’s swordsmen looked at Hwasan, Sichuan Tang, and Namgoong Dowi standing beside them with trembling eyes.

The young lord of Namgung Clan was there.

It was obvious even from a distance, he had suffered such terrible wounds, but he had come with Hwasan and the Tang Clan to save them till the bitter end. It seemed he could collapse and die at any moment.

Just that fact alone fueled a new determination for the upcoming battle. Everyone clenched their teeth. With such significant injuries, the young lord hadn’t given up on their lives until the end. So, what right did they have to easily surrender?

“And… the second.”

Chung Myung glanced at Black Dragon King. In that moment, Black Dragon King’s body trembled.

‘What, his eyes…?’

This was the first time he had properly faced Chung Myung. In the previous war, he had only watched from afar as they fought with Jang Ilso. Back then, he had quietly sneered at Jang Ilso, who couldn’t take down some young brat.

But now, as he looked into Chung Myung’s eyes, he realized it as well.

This guy is no ordinary person.

Someone with eyes like that couldn’t be ordinary.

“Youngster?”

Chung Myung’s lips curved into a low chuckle. It was an overtly mocking, or perhaps self-deprecating, laughter.

“A true greenhorn who doesn’t even know what war is just blurted out some bullshit.”

Chung Myung reached out to his side. One of the Hwasan’s disciples who stood behind him handed him an extra sword. Taking the sword and fastening it to his waist, Chung Myung twisted his lips and said,

“Enlighten me, you, greenhorn.”

The corner of Chung Myung’s mouth twisted, revealing his white teeth.

“Tell me what a real war is.”

In that moment, shivers ran down Black Dragon King’s spine.

‘What is it?’

Why did those words, which could only be considered a bluff, feel so eerie?

“Darn it!”

Black Dragon King bit his lips. It was a brief moment, but being momentarily overwhelmed by Chung Myung’s momentum shredded his pride to pieces.

“Lastly, the third.”

Chung Myung laughed like a demon.

“It’s not about finding the path, you scoundrel. It’s about creating it!”

And that was the moment.

The warriors of Sichuan Tang all pulled something from beneath their sleeves simultaneously. Seeing what they held in their hands, Black Dragon King widened his eyes in astonishment.

‘Wooden planks?’

The warriors of Tangga [Tang clan/family for short], who were carrying wooden planks concealed beneath their sleeves, rushed forward.

And then!

Clang!

As if by rope, the wooden planks they released from their hands soared through the sky, cutting through the heavens above the Yangtze.

Thunk! Thwack! Thunk! Thunk!

And in that moment, everyone on the river witnessed it. The wooden planks thrown by the warriors of the Tang clan, landing on the surface of Yangtze. These planks, upon landing on the water, didn’t sink but floated, creating a makeshift pathway.

Hundreds of wooden planks lined up in a row, forming a wide path across the expansive river.

The only path they would reach, leading to Maehwado!

“Sasuk! Sago!”

Swish!

Baek Cheon and Yu Iseol drew their swords without hesitation.

“Break through the front!”

“Got it!”

“Yeah!”

“Namgoong Dowi!”

“Yes!”

“Open the way! Use your hands to create the path to Namgung!”

Namgung Dowi replied with a face filled with determination.

“Yes!”

No further explanation was needed. They knew what to do even without being told.

“Namgung Clan!”

Chung Myung shouted as if his throat would burst.

Namgung’s swordsmen clenched their teeth and looked at him.

“We’re going now.”

“…”

“Hold onto the hems of your pants and endure it, even if you have to stretch out!”

A sudden warmth surged in the hearts of Namgung Clan.

“Yes!”

Swish!

Chung Myung drew his sword.

“Now, then…”

Everyone on the Yangtze river was waiting for his next words.

“Let’s go. To save Namgung!”

Paaah!

Before the words were even finished, Baek Cheon and Yu Iseol turned into streaks of light without a moment’s hesitation. Following them, Hwasan and Sichuan Tang charged forward in a long line.

It was as if a black and a green dragons were playing on the river’s surface .

Chung Myung, who had jumped onto the backs of the two dragons after a powerful leap from the ground, shouted as he soared through the air,

“Let’s go, you bastards!”

Chung Myungs sword, with the rising sun behind him, shone brilliantly, as if it would drive away all remaining darkness engulfing Maehwado.

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