Return of the Mount Hua

Even the Buddha has abandoned you. (3)

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It was a scene that perhaps someone should have witnessed and etched into their memory.

But Shaolin monks did not see the majestic figure of Beop Gye.

The Buddha’s name resonated like a lion’s roar, and Shaolin monks unleashed their fists in succession.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

They had trained consistently to embody the Buddha’s will and to save those suffering. Their efforts thoroughly blocked those reaching for Beop Jong and Beop Gye.

Boom!

“You shall not pass!”

The once low and deep voice was gone. Now, it was a blood-curdling scream filled with desperation and longing.

“Get out of the way, you meddling monks!”

Blades continued to fly from all directions.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

No matter how diligently they had trained, they could not block every sword flying at them from all directions in the chaos.

Shaolin monk’s body was ruthlessly slashed, turning crimson in an instant.

“I told you, you shall not pass!”

Boom!

Even as blood flowed from their entire bodies, Shaolin monks clung to their enemies, holding them back.

Jeok Ho, who arrived belatedly, grimaced.

Shaolin monks, fiercely entangled with their foes, held back those pursuing Beop Jong. Even as swords pierced their backs, they grabbed the ankles of those ahead and refused to let go.

“Amitabha!”

Anyone who has taken refuge in Buddhism would utter it, but the resonance of those who bet their lives on it was profoundly different.

Death is frightening for everyone.

However, these people were embracing that death. If it was an inevitable death, they would accept it to protect something, anything.

Wasn’t this the reason the lotus blooming in the mud became a symbol of Buddhism?

“I… I can’t let you go before I die.”

Spewing clots of blood from his mouth, Shaolin monk clung to the advancing enemy. His persistence was comparable to that of Maninbang, yet distinctly different from the madness displayed by the Evil Sects.

“…You’re playing tricks.”

Jeok Ho ground his teeth.

He could clearly see Beop Gye staggering away in the distance, carrying Beop Jong on his back.

He couldn’t let them escape like this. The victory was already as good as decided. Beop Jong’s head would solidify that victory even further. It would become a symbol that would elevate the names of Sapaeryeon, Maninbang, and Paegun to the most illustrious places in the world.

“I won’t let you escape!”

Boom!

Jeok Ho sprang from the ground, leaping over the entangled crowd. No, he intended to leap over them.

But at that moment, dozens of beams imbued with the aura of the Buddha’s light surged toward him. They erupted all at once, as if orchestrated, forcing Jeok Ho to hesitate and swing his sword.

Shwaaah!

The incoming force was torn apart by the fierce blade. Though that was all, the impact was enough to stop Jeok Ho from advancing further. It held him back, if only for a moment.

Gritting his teeth, Jeok Ho bit his lip.

They were in a situation where they had to fend off attacks pouring in from all directions. To attack Jeok Ho, they would have had to ignore the blades piercing their own bodies.

Yet, more than ten attacks had come at him simultaneously.

Not one of those Shaolin monks had cared about their own lives.

Even as his anger surged, Jeok Ho felt a chill run down his spine.

“This…”

But there was no time to waste here. He had to chase those two now. If he let them slip away, it would all be his fault.

As Jeok Ho was about to push off the ground again, one of Shaolin monks, who had shaken off the members of Sapaeryeon clinging to him, came charging at him with relentless determination.

“Aaaah!”

From his outstretched hand, a palm strike imbued with the Buddha’s golden light burst forth. Jeok Ho, watching with cold eyes, slashed his sword horizontally in one swift motion.

Shwaaah!

The large palm strike was split by the crimson blade, carving a long line across the monk’s body.

“A…mi…”

The strength drained from the monk’s body. Yet he did not stop. Staggering as if he would collapse at any moment, he stubbornly took step after step towards Jeok Ho.

Thud.

A feeble gesture, weaker than a child’s punch, touched Jeok Ho’s chest.

Is Beop Jong really worth this much? Just because he’s the Abbot?

“Is the Abbot truly that valuable to you?”

He asked, not expecting an answer.

But an unexpected response came from the staggering monk’s lips.

“It… doesn’t matter…”

“What?”

A serene aura settled on the pained face.

“Whether it’s the Abbot or anyone else… anyone’s life… is worth giving mine for…”

Jeok Ho’s face twisted.

Swish!

His blade severed the monk’s neck in an instant.

The headless body slumped to the ground.

This was not out of hatred, but perhaps a momentary act of mercy. Jeok Ho coldly looked down at the now lifeless body, then raised his head and glared at Shaolin monks.

“Anyone… you say.”

Their eyes were different. They were filled with something even Jeok Ho, who had witnessed countless deaths and faced the brink of life and death, could not comprehend.

“Even if the leaders are morons, the followers aren’t all rotten?”

Of course, Jeok Ho could not empathize.

But even if he couldn’t empathize, he could respect them.

These monks would never open a path for Jeok Ho while they still had their lives. Perhaps, even after their lives had ended.

“If that’s what you wish…”

Jeok Ho gripped his blade tightly.

“I’ll grant your wish.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Clang!

Sword and hand clashed.

Jongli Hyeong’s Demon Subduing Sword Technique [복마검법(伏魔劍法)] lived up to its reputation. It was swift, agile, and precise.

Given the circumstances, his swordplay was more fluid than ever. His fierce attacks repeatedly sought openings, rushing toward his opponent.

But… in truth, Jongli Hyeong was in despair at that moment. It felt as futile as swinging a sword at the vast ocean.

‘This, this is..’

Tens, no, perhaps hundreds of hands.

Hundreds of hands, each taking a different form, engulfed him. It was as if hundreds of people were simultaneously reaching out to him.

‘The Hand of Thousand Faces [천면수(千面手)]!’

This was the secret technique of Cheon Myeon Susa [Master of the Thousand Faces – [천면수사(千面秀士)] Dam Yeohae. The Hand of Thousand Faces technique, which had earned Dam Yeohae the title of the greatest hand of the Evil Sects, brought endless despair to Jongli Hyeong.

Of course, he might still win.

Even though his opponent was the leader of Haomun and the greatest hand of the Evil Sects, Jongli Hyeong was also the Sect Leader of Kongtong Sect. His Demon Subduing Swordsmanship, imbued with the essence of Kongtong, was not inferior to Dam Yeohae’s techniques.

Yes, he might win.

If only he had the time to methodically dismantle those dazzling hand techniques, one by one.

But what Jongli Hyeong lacked at this moment was precisely that: time. With enemies closing in from all sides and the situation deteriorating rapidly, there was no leisure to calmly break down his opponent’s martial arts.

“Haaaap!”

Jongli Hyeong swung his sword desperately.

It was a powerful strike that would more than push the opponent back if met head-on. However, the opponent’s hands never faced his sword energy head-on.

Watching the leisurely deflection of his sword energy by the encroaching hand shadows, the despair in Jongli Hyeong’s eyes deepened infinitely.

“Get out of my way!”

Clang!

Once more, he shouted, thrusting his sword into the entangling shadows. Each shadow, shaped like a different hand, wrapped around his blade as if they were the hands of living people.

“You seem to be in a hurry.”

“Cheon Myeon…”

“But I am in no rush.”

With the face of a young man, Cheon Myeon Susa sneered. The mismatch between his elderly voice and his youthful face without a wrinkle created a disturbing dissonance. A shiver ran down Jongli Hyeong’s spine.

“So why don’t you, the head of your sect, take your time and enjoy this?”

“Aaaaah!”

Before Cheon Myeon Susa could finish his sentence, the dying scream of someone else pierced Jongli Hyeong’s ears.

“Aaaaah!”

With a similar cry, Jongli Hyeong fiercely swung his sword.

“Hahahah!”

Cheon Myeon Susa’s loud laughter overlapped with the scream. Jongli Hyeong’s eyes quickly reddened with rage.

‘Why!’

How had things come to this? He had committed no wrong! Even if he had made a mistake, did it warrant such a wretched fate? It was unjust. He felt deeply wronged and mortified.

“Get out of the way! I said, move!”

“Tsk tsk. How disgraceful. For the head of a sect to lose even the bare minimum of dignity.”

Blatant mockery poured down upon him.

Bitterness and humiliation, along with other indescribable emotions, swept over Jongli Hyeong.

His gaze momentarily, involuntarily, shifted to the side. He wanted to see, with his own eyes, the source of this hellish scene.

And Jongli Hyeong’s eyes widened in shock.

“There…”

Despite being in the midst of a fierce battle and knowing that a moment’s distraction could cost him his life, he was momentarily dazed.

He couldn’t help it.

Beop Jong was fleeing. He was being carried on Beop Gye’s back.

‘Defeated…?’

That Beop Jong?

No, no. That wasn’t the important part.

What mattered now was not that Beop Jong had been defeated by Jang Ilso, but that he was fleeing, abandoning everyone else.

After driving so many to their deaths, leaving Kongtong sect and Paeng family aside, but even Shaolin is struggling in the abyss of hell.

‘Alone? Abandoning us and fleeing alone? After causing all this?’

As he grasped the situation, his blood boiled in and went in reverse. Heat surged through his entire body, and unbearable rage pounded within him.

‘To survive alone?’

Swoosh!

In his rage, his sword wavered, and Cheon Myeon Susa’s hand pierced through, striking Jongli Hyeong’s chest.

Jongli Hyeong spat blood and staggered backwards. But the blazing hatred in his eyes was not directed at Cheon Myeon Susa.

“Beop…”

From deep within his stomach, an uncontrollable fury erupted into a scream.

“Beop Joooooooooooooong!”

His voice was a desperate roar that shook the entire battlefield.

❀ ❀ ❀

The condescending gaze pricked at his charred skin.

Then, a voice filled with authority and majesty echoed.

“A ruler must always hold their own life in the highest regard.”

However, perhaps because of its excessive emphasis on authority, the voice felt oddly light.

Paeng Yeop silently touched the sword lodged in his side. His hand trembled uncontrollably. It was so ravaged by heat that gripping and pulling out the sword was impossible.

And truthfully… even if he could grasp and pull out the sword, the outcome wouldn’t change much. That wasn’t the only weapon embedded in his body.

“You might have had the capability to lead a family, but you lacked the ability to be a proper ruler.”

“…”

“No matter how powerful the group, without its head, it becomes a disorderly mob. You should have fled instead of opposing me, even if it meant leaving everyone here to die.”

Paeng Yeop coughed weakly, a sound like the wind escaping his lips.

Perhaps those words were true.

Looking at his current state, wasn’t it proof that the man’s words were right? His body, impaled by weapons and unable to fall on its own, demonstrated the truth of the man’s statement.

He didn’t believe it was a difference in skill.

The difference was simply in mindset. The cold rationality that allowed one to fight at the forefront and command many to coordinate attacks without hesitation – that was what Paeng Yeop lacked.

For a martial artist, it was dishonorable, but for a leader of a group, there was no more rational and necessary choice.

Paeng Yeop forced his eyes open, which kept wanting to close, and looked around.

Behind the arrogantly standing Lord of the Sun Palace, a horrific scene unfolded.

Amidst countless deaths, he could see Paeng family members making desperate attempts to escape. Though his vision was blurry, he could see them clearly.

There were only a few dozen. Compared to the number he had led here, it was a drop in the ocean.

Was it worth throwing away his life to save those few dozen?

“A petty man assigns meaning to meaningless things. But a true ruler stakes their life only on what is valuable. That head of Shaolin seems to understand that.”

“…”

“Not knowing that is why you die, lowly one.”

A bitter laugh escaped Paeng Yeop’s lips.

“Value…huh…”

His vision blurred until it was hard to distinguish shapes. Eventually, the world started to darken from the edges to the center of his vision.

In his final moments, he saw the young warriors of the Paeng family breaking through the enemy’s encirclement.

“Well, then… I suppose…”

“Hmm?”

“…not bad.”

The Lord of the Sun Palace frowned as he looked at Paeng Yeop.

But Paeng Yeop had already lost his strength and slumped his head.

Thud.

Paeng Yeop’s body collapsed to the side. He was in a pitiable state, with over a dozen blades embedded in his body.

The Lord of the Sun Palace watched silently for a moment before scoffing and turning away.

“A pitiful death.”

The heartless voice faintly reached Paeng Yeop’s ears.

‘Brother…’

In the darkening world, his brother’s gaze appeared dimly before him.

‘…I have no regrets.’

In the chilling grip of death, Paeng Yeop’s empty pupils sought something unreachable.

‘Or rather… actually…’

Paeng Yeop’s hand fell limply.

His beloved weapon, discarded beside him, silently mourned his lonely death.

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This is actually so sad I am crying.

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