Return of the Mount Hua

I wanted to meet you. (3)

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Jang Ilso’s gaze sank.

The overall situation… is not particularly bad. No, if anything, one could say it’s favorable, since the morale has clearly risen with the Sun Palace Lord taking the forefront.

Yet his mood did not lighten in the slightest. In fact, it sank deeper and deeper. He kept his eyes fixed on the Sun Palace Lord – or more precisely, on the young Just Sects’ martial artists who were fighting against him.

‘…Pathetic.’

Instead of those old geezers who were always so full of themselves, now it were these young brats standing in the Sun Palace Lord’s way. Normally, Jang Ilso would have sneered at the sight, telling others to look and laugh at their sorry state, but now, not so much as even a twitch of his lips appeared.

A feeling that was hard to pinpoint crept up from the soles of his feet.

It felt as if countless insects were crawling all over him… a nauseating sensation.

‘Disgusting.’

Yes. If he had to describe it, that would be it. Jang Ilso found the scene utterly displeasing.

‘Why is that?’

He couldn’t explain the reason precisely, but he understood it nonetheless.

Intuition [직관(直觀)]. A sense that transcended theory and calculation told him that if an unforeseen defeat were to occur in this war, it would begin right there.

Yet intuition is intuition precisely because it cannot be explained. He couldn’t perfectly articulate why such thoughts and emotions were arising within him. The moment he could provide grounds and reasons, it would be dragged down into the realm of logic.

‘No need to interpret it.’

In the end, what matters is not interpretation, but conclusion.

Jang Ilso’s lips, which did not move at all, finally parted again. One thing was certain. This scene, which seemed so favorable, was slowly tightening around his throat.

“Tsk.”

Jang Ilso spat out his displeasure, letting it slip from the tip of his tongue as he spoke.

“Gamyeong-ah.”

“Yes, Ryeonju.”

“Do you see it?”

“…I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean.”

Ho Gamyeong had sensed Jang Ilso’s mood, but he clearly had no idea why it was so.

If that’s the case, it means that Jang Ilso is the only one who feels discomfort in this scene – or, more accurately, a sense of crisis disguised as discomfort.

Is it simply because Jang Ilso’s intuition is outstanding?

“You see how they’re prancing around.”

“Are you referring to those young brats?”

“Young brats… well, who knows.”

Generally, the ones who rule the world are the old. Those who have perfected their martial arts and wield their might. They shake the world with both power and influence in their hands.

Yet they rarely leave their names in history. Because it is natural for older generations to hold those positions.

Jang Ilso knows. Those who go against what is natural.

Those who have gained a level of martial prowess they should never have attained at their age, and who seize admiration instead of authority. He knows those who shine because of that, and who are remembered.

‘Heroes…’

If such scenes continue to unfold, and if they should lead their side to ultimate victory, they will remain in this era as heroes. Today’s battle would then become their symbol.

“Ha.”

Jang Ilso let out a short scoff.

“Pigs…”

A voice, as if simmering from the inside, quietly spread through the air.

Jang Ilso had not the slightest doubt that they were hiding their true selves behind the masks of justice and honor.

Not only them – humans are all like that. When what is most precious, usually their very life, is threatened, they finally tear off the masks they have been wearing.

Yet, even in this situation, they are still wearing their masks so thoroughly…

“It must be that the threat is insufficient.”

There was no room for doubt.

“Gamyeong-ah.”

“Yes.”

“We have no choice. Let’s hurry things along a bit.”

Ho Gamyeong understood his command. Not through words, but through a look.

“By your command.”

That was enough.

He did not question why they would deviate from their original plan and rush. He would only follow and carry it out.

Jang Ilso fixed his gaze back on the battlefield. He pressed down on the unpleasantness creeping through his entire body.

His pale eyes were chill, devoid of even a hint of warmth.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Damn…”

Jo Geo’s eyes distorted.

Up ahead, Tang Gunak and Hye Yeon’s division were engaged in battle. Watching those at the very front, facing the most dangerous foes, stirred his competitive spirit and made it so it wanted to surge on the surface impatiently.

“Sahyeong!”

Jo Geol called out to Yoon Jong again.

“What?”

“Do we have to just stay like this?”

Jo Geol’s voice had sunk lower than before. The liveliness and playfulness had vanished completely, replaced by a heavy seriousness.

Noticing this, Yoon Jong turned to look at Jo Geol without a word. Though he might seem reckless at times, Jo Geol was ultimately the disciple of Hwasan that Yoon Jong trusted the most.

Jo Geol spoke.

“If we must stay, then at least send Sago and Soso forward. There’s no need for all of us to remain here, is there?”

It was a wise judgment. Yoon Jong almost smiled with satisfaction before barely forcing down the corners of his mouth at the last moment.

Yes, it’s just that under normal circumstances there are always smarter people around, so Jo Geol never needed to step forward. But he was by no means stupid.

“We have to at least track down any sign of Cheon Myeon Susa. We don’t know what that bastard might do.”

“Right. You’re correct.”

Yoon Jong hadn’t intended to just stay behind issuing orders forever. Now that masters who could legitimately be called ‘absolute’ had stepped in, the situation had changed.

Still, Yoon Jong remained in place for a different reason.

“But wait.”

“Sahyeong!”

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of cowering in the rear watching from afar. I, too, am a swordsman of Hwasan.”

For Hwasan’s swordsman, there is no option to stand back and watch. If someone goes forth to fight, they watch with awe, but then they rush forward themselves to reclaim the front line. That is the posture befitting one who bears the plum blossom upon their chest.

“Not yet. Not yet. Just a little longer.”

At Yoon Jong’s words, Jo Geol bit down hard on his lip. He couldn’t understand what his Sahyeong was waiting for.

“Our opponent is Jang Ilso.”

Yoon Jong is not as smart as Chung Myung. Nor is he as wise as Baek Cheon. Instead, he possesses something others do not: the patience to endure without rushing forward recklessly.

It is this patience – different in its nature – that can catch things others might have missed.

“Sahyeong!”

Growing frustrated, Jo Geol finally shouted. Yoon Jong opened his mouth.

“What kind of weapon do you think Jang Ilso intends to use?”

“What’s there to think about? That bastard uses anything in the world like a Go stone. Anything could become a weapon for him!”

Yoon Jong nodded. It was a more perceptive answer than usual for Jo Geol, but not the one Yoon Jong had wanted.

“Go stones… Wrong.”

“Huh?”

“This isn’t Go. If we had to classify it… it’s Janggi [장기 – 將棋·將碁 – a variant of Korean chess].”

On a Go board, every stone holds the same value. But Janggi is different. Each piece has a different worth.

“Jang Ilso uses everything laid out on the board he’s created, but he has something set aside for decisive moments.”

“…What is it?”

With his lips pressed firmly together, Yoon Jong looked straight ahead. His eyes carried not hostility, but vigilant anticipation. He was waiting, as if for something about to move.

And finally, he caught sight of the movement he’d been waiting for.

“They’re coming.”

“Huh? Who-”

Jo Geol didn’t finish his sentence, shutting his mouth tightly. He saw them too now – those moving secretly amid the unbearably chaotic battlefield.

There was no failing to recognize them. Others might not know, but for Hwasan, it was impossible. To Hwasan, they practically embodied hatred itself.

“They could at least change their clothes. These shameless bastards show themselves so openly.”

Though he had complained, Jo Geol knew they wouldn’t. They would feel an immense pride in their affiliation. Just as Hwasan’s disciples could never erase the plum blossoms engraved on their chests.

“Sahyeong!”

“Yes. They’re coming.”

Among Jang Ilso’s countless weapons, the sharpest dagger – the ones who have repeatedly blocked Hwasan’s path.

Yoon Jong bit down hard on his lips, then spat out the words he’d been holding back.

“Red Dogs.”

It was as though these words became a signal.

Within the chaos of mingled colors and movements, a distinct group leapt into the fray all at once.

Their attire bore a white and red pattern, like a white tiger adorned with crimson stripes. This symbol inspired pride in some, and terror in others.

Ssshaaak!

“Aaaaaaargh!”

The blade of a Red Dog sliced right through a member of Cheonumaeng.

No ordinary warrior of the Alliance could possibly stand against these hounds of the highest caliber.

“W-What the hell!”

“You filthy vermin!”

Ssshaaak!

Having lacked a stage since the great battle in Hubei, the Red Dogs were starving for this moment.

They were prepared to die for Jang IIso. In fact, they lived in hopes that they would die for him.

At long last, the order had come down. The long period of sharpening their murderous edge, the restrained savagery held in check, now burst forth like a broken dam.

They snapped at Cheonumaeng’s warriors, tore them apart mercilessly, and crushed them without restraint.

“Aaaaargh!”

Their raw ferocity, more than their skill alone, was the true menace. It made their foes quail in an instant.

Even a slight hesitation allowed the Red Dogs to bore right in. The frontline collapsed in an instant, and those who failed to retreat in time fell prey to their fangs.

A cold, bluish gleam flickered in Yoon Jong’s eyes.

What would Chung Myung have done? He would have charged in without a second thought, slaughtering the Red Dogs singlehandedly so their fangs would never reach Hwasan.

What about Baek Cheon? He would have advanced together with the other disciples of Hwasan to face them. But he would have shed the most blood at the very front to protect even one more of his juniors and comrades.

Then… what about Yoon Jong? How would he act?

Eventually, a loud shout burst out from Yoon Jong’s mouth. It was so thunderous that anyone familiar with his usual demeanor would have been astonished.

“Jo Geol!”

“Yes!”

“Take the disciples of Hwasan to the front lines! Stop those bastards!”

“Sahyeong! They’re spread too thin around us!”

“Then we’ll spread out too!”

“What? Ah, but then-“

Momentarily flustered, Jo Geol turned to face Yoon Jong. But Yoon Jong cut him off firmly.

“Believe in them.”

“…”

“They’re all swordsmen of Hwasan too, each one who’s worked just as hard as you. Don’t think you have to lead them.”

Yoon Jong’s gaze, unwavering and steady, bore into Jo Geol. What lay within was unmistakable trust. Feeling the weight of it, Jo Geol nodded almost without realizing it.

“Yes, Sahyeong!”

“Go!”

Jo Geol raised his sword and bellowed.

“Hwaaaasaaaan!”

At his ringing cry, the disciples of Hwasan scattered around turned to look. Jo Geol caught their eyes. There was no fear in them.

Only firm resolve and the excitement that had been waiting to erupt.

‘That’s more like it!’

This exhilaration spread to Jo Geol as well.

He pointed the tip of his sword forward.

“Let’s go! It’s time to kick Jang Ilso’s dogs back where they belong!”

“Ooooh!”

“Charge!”

“I’m your Sasuk, you bastard! Damn this sect with its messed-up lineage!”

“Just let it slide this time. Hehehe.”

The disciples of Hwasan, who had been scattered all around, suddenly rushed forward in unison. It didn’t matter where they attacked – dozens of black-clad figures streaked across the ranks of Cheonumaeng.

“Uaaaaaah!”

At the very moment a Red Dog’s blade was about to smash down onto the head of a fallen man.

Kaaaaang!

A flying plum-blossom sword of Hwasan blocked that blade.

Kwaaang!

The Red Dog, kicked squarely in the chest, was hurled backwards. The one who had so abruptly been thwarted twisted his face in a fit of instant rage.

“Who the hell-!”

“Better tuck that tail, you rabid dog.”

A scornful voice brushed his ear. Soon, his vision caught sight of someone adorned in black, with a plum blossom emblem on his chest, that looked like a drop of blood.

“…Hwasan?”

“You know it well. But not today. Today, if possible…’

Jo Geol smirked.

“…something like a dog butcher would suit better. What do you say?”

Murderous intent poured from the Red Dog’s eyes.

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