Return of the Mount Hua

That’s enough for me. (8)

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“Misunderstanding?”

Thud.

An empty wine cup is placed on the table.

How many rounds have they had already? The number of empty wine bottles is increasing, yet the two people continue to look at each other with calm eyes, their expressions unchanged.

Although quiet, it cannot be criticized or dismissed as peaceful.

It’s not a life-threatening battle with swords drawn, but the tension between the two sitting across from each other is even more intense.

“Did you say it was a misunderstanding?”

“Yes.”

Jang Ilso’s eyebrow twitches slightly.

“Huh, really? What exactly am I misunderstanding? I don’t think anything’s wrong.”

“That’s why you can’t understand me.”

Chung Myung spoke with an expressionless face.

“Knowing well and understanding are similar but different realms. You might know me well, but you cannot understand me. Probably never.”

Jang Ilso’s lips curled up as if he found it amusing.

“Hmm. That’s quite a sad statement. But… weren’t we discussing something else? What am I misunderstanding?”

“That they think like me, and that what I intend to do is being achieved through them.”

Chung Myung chuckled as if he found his own words funny.

“It’s a ridiculous notion.”

“…So it’s not true?”

“You can’t help but think that way. That’s precisely who you are.”

Jang Ilso narrowed his eyes, showing a hint of displeasure. However, Chung Myung continued speaking without concern.

“To you, the world must seem like an incomplete collection of imperfect things.”

Chung Myung’s gaze was directed not at Jang Ilso but at the sky. He stared at the stars that continued to shine despite the hazy smoke.

“That’s why you can’t trust them. Compared to you, they’re inadequate and pitiful, not a single one worth relying on.”

Jang Ilso’s crimson lips slowly parted, and soon he was smiling brightly, revealing his white teeth. 

“Well, well. You say you can’t understand, yet you understand quite well, don’t you?” 

Jang Ilso slowly rose to his feet, then looked down at Chung Myung sitting before him. At the same time, he grabbed a bottle of wine from the table. 

“Let me ask you in return. Do you find them so trustworthy?”

He turned and began to walk slowly, moving towards where Heo Do Jinin.

“Look.”

Standing right in front of Heo Do Jinin, who was struggling to breathe, Jang Ilso looked at him with eyes filled with contempt and mockery. No, he was looking at Chung Myung. 

“This is reality.” 

“…”

“He probably believed it himself. That he had improved, that it was different from the past, that he could do something in his current state.”

Chung Myung’s face grew cold.

“Whether it’s a sense of duty or righteousness… whatever the basis might be. But…”

Jang Ilso slowly tilted the bottle of wine.

Trickle, trickle.

The wine flowed out and spilled onto Heo Do Jinin’s head. His blood-soaked head became drenched with the clear liquor. 

Chung Myung’s eyes, glaring at Jang Ilso, grew even colder. Jang Ilso chuckled openly, as if to mock him. 

“And this is the result, isn’t it? Sad and unfortunate, but this is reality. This is the great outcome of that trust.” 

Trickle, trickle. 

“So you can only mourn. The living dead…”

Clang! 

At that moment, the wine bottle in Jang Ilso’s hand shattered into pieces. The remaining wine spilled onto Jang Ilso’s robes. 

The Red Dogs, who had been silently standing by, erupted in anger. 

“How dare you…!”

“Tsk.”  

But with just a click of his tongue, Jang Ilso silenced them. He quietly looked at his wet clothes before lifting the broken neck of the bottle. Then, as if it were a child’s toy, he shook it playfully. 

“Well, will this do? But what you really want to cut is my neck, isn’t it?” 

His painted face began to take on a ghostly hue. 

“Instead of spouting nonsense about trusting those fools and making nonsensical noise, why don’t you just…” 

Jang Ilso slowly drew his long fingernail across his throat. 

“Try doing it yourself?” 

Chung Myung’s eyes sank coldly.  

“You must also think that’s a more certain method, don’t you?” 

He was staring intently at Jang Ilso’s white neck. He could cut it, just as Jang Ilso said. Even with so many enemies here, it was possible.

If he were to take the risk and was prepared to sacrifice his life, he might be able to create a moment where his sword could reach Jang Ilso’s neck. 

But instead of grabbing his sword, Chung Myung reached for his cup. 

“The cup is empty.” 

Jang Ilso, who had been silent for a moment as if at a loss for words, suddenly let out a deep sigh, as if his ghostly aura had never appeared. 

“It’s not working.” 

He trudged back to sit on the opposite side of Chung Myung. Propping his chin with his hand, he stared at Chung Myung and asked.

“So, what about it?” 

“What?” 

“Is the world you see different from the one I see? Is the world you perceive so beautiful and perfect?”  

Even as he asked, his derision only deepened, as if ready to mock whatever answer came

However, Chung Myung didn’t change his expression or even blink.

“Of course not.” 

“…Hmm?” 

“It’s the same for me. The world remains absurd, and those filling this absurd world are unreliable and even pathetic.”

Jang Ilso frowned, as if he hadn’t anticipated this response. Chung Myung continued speaking.

“But now I’ve realized something.”

“What is it?”

“That I, who believed I was perfect, failed completely.”

“…” 

“I couldn’t protect what I wanted to protect, nor could I defeat what I wanted to defeat. The goal I staked everything on collapsed, leaving only scars behind.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A sense of displeasure began to fill Jang Ilso’s eyes. It was a deep-seated irritation, different from the bewilderment of not understanding.

“So isn’t that what you’re trying to achieve through them?”

“You’re wrong, you idiot.” 

Chung Myung gritted his teeth, a flicker of anger and hostility passed in his eyes as he looked at Jang Ilso.

“They aren’t my tools. They aren’t something to fulfill my dreams. They are just themselves.”

“…”

“All I know is that what I, who thought I was better, couldn’t achieve, they can.”

Jang Ilso was about to say something, but Chung Myung cut him off sharply.

“That’s your limit – not knowing that. People like you, when faced with an insurmountable wall, do nothing and eventually throw everything, including yourself, away. You don’t dare to challenge what can’t be obtained through effort and struggle.”

Jang Ilso’s face momentarily hardened.

“But not me. Even if I encounter something I can’t overcome, I won’t despair. I may be frustrated and in pain, but deep down, I believe there’s always a way to overcome what my strength alone cannot.”

Jang Ilso’s expression faded away, leaving him momentarily silent.

Then his eyes softened again.

“So, it’s them, huh…”

With a deep sigh, he shook his head.

“When a joke is that bad, it’s hard to laugh even out of politeness, don’t you think?”

Chung Myung closed his eyes. 

What he was about to say wasn’t his own words. They belonged to the person who had conveyed this meaning to him. A person greater and stronger than anyone.

“Only those who know they are lacking can move forward.”

“…” 

“My Sahyeong said that.”

In that moment, a peculiar light colored Jang Ilso’s face – an incomprehensible mix of disgust and bewilderment.

Jang Ilso, who had been gazing at Chung Myung with a peculiar expression for quite some time, lazily murmured,  

“Quite a pathetic person, it seems, to spout such meaningless words.”

Chung Myung chuckled quietly.

It was like looking at a mirage.

Not in the sense that they were the same or similar, but because none of his words could reach Jang Ilso. Perhaps his words would never reach him, not even in his last breath.

It was like talking to a person in a mirage, visible but eternally unreachable.

What meaning could his words possibly have to this man?

“You asked, didn’t you? What I would do if they betrayed my trust.”

“I did.”

“I’ll answer you. No, I’ll promise you.”

Chung Myung’s usually calm lips twisted into a sinister grin, so chilling that even Jang Ilso, fearless as he was, momentarily held his breath. 

Paaaat!

In an instant, Chung Myung’s sword was drawn from its sheath like a flash of lightning. The speed was so incomprehensible that the Red Dogs, who had been tensely guarding their master, couldn’t even react.

Clang!

The blade stopped right in front of Jang Ilso’s face, meeting his open hand.

Screech!

The rings on Jang Ilso’s fingers screamed in protest. With the sword and hand locked in place, Chung Myung leaned in, baring his teeth in a fierce snarl.

“Then you… will die here.”

“Ha… hahaha! Hahahaha!”

Loud laughter echoed through the room. Jang Ilso’s wide-open eyes gleamed with a light of madness.

❀ ❀ ❀

Suddenly, snow began to fall over the blood-soaked cliff.

The sight of the pure white snow swirling elegantly through the air was truly beautiful. It was the kind of scene that naturally brought to mind the word ‘enchanting.’

However, the moment one realized that the delicate-looking snow was actually a shower of sword energy, the picturesque scene transformed into a terrifying spectacle of slaughter.

Slash! Slash!

“Grr!”

The bodies of the Sun Palace warriors were mercilessly slashed and pierced by the sword energy, as white as snow. 

“Damn it!” 

Caught unprepared by the sudden appearance of an enemy, they began to fall helplessly. One of the Sun Palace warriors roared in anger and heightened his hot yang energy even further. 

But no matter how much energy he summoned to protect his body, it was difficult to fend off all the sword energy raining down from the sky. 

“That sword energy…”

“Steady yourself first.”

Namgung Dowi, who was muttering in shock, snapped back to his senses when he felt a strong grip on his shoulder. He tightened his grip on the cliff, securing himself more firmly.

Although he couldn’t gather energy, he was given enough time to catch his breath, which was a significant help to him at the moment. 

However, he couldn’t completely hide his curiosity. 

“Plum Blossom…”

“It’s a sword with quite a complicated history.”

While channeling his energy into Namgung Dowi’s body, Lee Songbaek wore a bitter smile. 

‘Twelve Movement Snowflake(Snow flower) Sword Technique [설화십이식(雪花十二式)]’

For Jongnam, it was a sword of profound pain.

Once believed to open a bright future for Jongnam, it had become a symbol of utmost disgrace.

However, while those who learned the full story were busy shunning and hiding this sword, Jin Geumryong did not. He did not abandon this sword. 

He sneered coldly. 

– Do you think it disappears if you ignore it? If only it were that easy.

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