At last, you shall see it. (2)
“Sahyeong!”
At the sound of a familiar voice, Yoon Jong turned around.
“Geol-ah!”
Jo Geol, who had been previously heading to Wudang, was now racing over with other disciples. Upon reaching Yoon Jong, Jo Geol shouted, urgency evident in his voice.
“Blood Palace! What happened to those bastards?”
Yoon Jong’s face turned pale. Jo Geol, not noticing this, showered him with more questions.
“They went around to attack from behind. Surely no one got taken out, right, Sahyeong? Say something!”
It seemed Jo Geol hadn’t witnessed the horrors behind them.
Yoon Jong hesitated.
Where should he begin? No – how was he supposed to explain it?
Finally getting a proper look at Yoon Jong’s face, Jo Geol’s expression hardened.
“Saheyong? Don’t tell me…….”
“Lord Tang was struck.”
It wasn’t Yoon Jong who answered, but someone else. Jo Geol turned his gaze sharply in that direction.
“What are you talking about?”
But there was no further reply. All Jo Geol could see was Chung Myung’s back, running ahead without a word. He glared at that retreating figure for some time, demanding an explanation, but Chung Myung never turned around.
“What the hell do you mean? I’m asking you!”
“Geol-ah.”
“Bullshit!”
Yoon Jong tried to calm him, but it was no use. Jo Geol’s voice was laced with venom.
“Lord Tang? You know who he is! There’s no way scum like Blood Palace could take him down, Sahyeong!”
Jo Geol shouted desperately, as if pleading for Yoon Jong’s agreement. Naturally, Yoon Jong couldn’t say a thing. Jo Geol’s face grew increasingly grim.
“Don’t joke like that. There are some things you can joke about and some things you absolutely can’t… Sahyeong? Right?”
Jo Geol began to stammer. He had caught sight of Yoon Jong’s devastated expression.
Unable to ignore Jo Geol’s trembling, helpless gaze, Yoon Jong opened his mouth with difficulty.
“…Jang Ilso was there.”
At those few words, Jo Geol fell silent. This one name held the power to make everything clear.
“No… no way. That makes no sense. Why would he…?”
“…”
“…Damn it!”
Cursing, Jo Geol lowered his head. Then suddenly, as if struck by a thought, he jerked his head up. His eyes wavered faintly, as though seized by fear.
“Sahyeong. Soso…?”
“Not yet.”
Jo Geol bit his lip in silence. His mind refused to settle, and he clenched and loosened his fists in nervous agitation, unable to stay still. Nobody could bring themselves to comfort him.
Then, once again, a flat, emotionless voice spoke up.
“Sahyeong. If what you want isn’t just venting your anger but to lay their souls to rest [진혼(鎭魂)], then… there’s something we have to do, isn’t there?”
It was Chung Myung. Jo Geol glared at him with eyes that looked ready to swallow everything in sight. But all he could see was that same back.
Eventually, Jo Geol nodded and stepped forward. Startled, Yoon Jong spoke.
“Geol-ah?”
“I’ll take the lead. Because I have to drive my blade into that bastard’s neck.”
A cold, murderous gleam flickered in Jo Geol’s eyes.
“Let’s hurry.”
“…Right.”
Perhaps prompted by Jo Geol’s radiating bloodlust, the disciples of Hwasan pushed off the ground with even greater speed.
But most of them had already realized. Despite their urgency, they simply weren’t moving as fast as needed.
‘This isn’t good. Everyone’s exhausted.’
Im Sobyeong, his expression hardening, was watching them quietly from the rear.
It goes without saying, even without thinking about it too deeply. Hwasan has been fighting on the most dangerous front lines all this time, and after that, they repeatedly threw themselves forward to seize the opportunity of the victory.
Not only their internal energy, but even their mental strength, must have been depleted long ago.
Only the sense of duty imposed by Tang Gunak’s death kept them up and running. In truth, both their bodies and minds reached their limits long before now.
The problem was that, at this moment, all the people Im Sobyeong had at his disposal were precisely the disciples of Hwasan here. With only them, he had to traverse the battlefield that had grown dangerously vast.
On the other hand, what about Jang Ilso?
Those under Jang Ilso’s command were the Blood Palace. The Blood Palace has not participated in the war that broke out across these plains. The same goes for Jang Ilso himself. From the beginning of the battle until now, all he has done was watch from a distance, resting his chin on his hand.
Even catching up to him was daunting enough, and yet they must also fight an enemy that is nearly at full strength.
It was enough to make one’s head spin.
“Nokrim King.”
While he was lost in thought, Jongli Gok came up beside him. No doubt Jongli Gok’s thoughts were not so different from Im Sobyeong’s.
“Honestly speaking, what’s the situation right now?”
Surely Jongli Gok already knew. But he wanted to hear it directly from Im Sobyeong. There was only one thing Im Sobyeong could say to him.
“…It’s terrible.”
Jongli Gok let out a brief sigh, as if he had expected it, yet was still devastated to confirm it. Knowing it beforehand doesn’t make hearing it aloud any easier.
“I understand there’s no good way to respond if they strike from behind. But they must be having a hard time as well, right? If they mean to bring down the Alliance, they’ll have to fight a series of battles [연전(連戰)]. Each fight will chip away at their strength.”
“Normally, that would be the case.”
Jongli Gok’s words weren’t wrong.
But… could they really expect those bastards to be worn down?
Cheonumaneg has already been through war and used up all their energy to capture the fake ‘Jang Ilso’. In that condition, they were split and scattered into dozens of groups, their communication severed.
How must Cheonumaeng’s situation appear in Jang Ilso’s eyes?
“But it was that bastard who prepared the fakes.”
“That….”
Wasn’t that something everyone already knew? Jongli Gok’s gaze seemed to ask precisely that, but Im Sobyeong shook his head slightly.
“You do not understand. I’m saying the one who decided into how many pieces Cheonumaeng would be split is none other than Jang Ilso.”
Jongli Gok flinched. Only then did he grasp the meaning behind Im Sobyeong’s words.
“So you’re saying the Alliance has been divided into the most convenient pieces to devour? Exactly as he intended?”
“That’s probably how it is.”
“Then… are you telling me he’s planned everything right up to this very moment?”
“Most likely.”
Jongli Gok seemed completely at a loss.
He had seen with his own eyes how the war on this plain had unfolded. Yet Jang Ilso had foreseen all of this even before the war began?
‘Is that really something a human being can do?’
It was hard to believe. And yet there was no choice but to believe it. Wasn’t everything happening just as he had orchestrated?
To claim it was all a series of coincidences would be even more preposterous.
Which meant admitting that Jang Ilso had placed all of Cheonumaeng in the palm of his hand and toyed with it however he wanted.
‘How in the world are we supposed to fight someone like that?’
Jongli Gok felt a sense of hopelessness he had never known before.
“When… since when has that bastard been this formidable?”
“From the beginning.”
“But….”
Jongli Gok tried to argue further but trailed off, clearly confused.
Of course, who didn’t know that Jang Ilso was remarkable? But it never seemed like he was this astonishing. True, he had eventually been brought down before, and Gupailbang had managed to stand against him to some extent, hadn’t they? And Cheonumaeng even more so.
Im Sobyeong, as though reading his mind, spoke sharply with a cold face.
“Don’t be mistaken.”
“…Hmm?”
“There’s nothing more or less to it. If you had opposed him with only your own strength, then a few years after the formation of Sapaeryeon, the world of the Evil Path [사도(邪道)] would have already been here. After toying with you, trampling you, and killing you, Jang Ilso would have seized the world in his grasp.”
“…”
“If you underestimated him, the reason is obvious. Either you belittled what he’d accomplished, or the person who faced him appeared easy enough. ‘If he can do it, we can too, so it’s no big deal’ – that sort of foolish logic.”
Jongli Gok clamped his mouth shut. The words had hit the sore spot.
“But still…”
From his perspective, there was some room for excuse.
How highly could anyone reasonably have evaluated the abilities of a young Taoist who wasn’t even thirty yet?
Looking back now, he felt his old self had been a fool, but at the time, Jongli Gok had made an extremely sensible judgment. The same went for the other leaders of Gupailbang.
Just then, Im Sobyeong’s gaze fixed on one spot – Chung Myung’s back as he ran at the very front.
‘They are all pathetic fools.’
Im Sobyeong cursed inwardly.
This is why. This is why Im Sobyeong deemed Beop Jong to be the one most responsible for the entire situation.
Gupailbang’s power had been wasted meaninglessly. If they had been under Chung Myung’s command, Sapaeryeon or whatever it was would have been driven to some corner of the Southern Sea, unable to even breathe freely by now.
But instead, Gupailbang chose their own separate path for the sake of some ridiculous pride. As the price for that stupid decision, the entire world was now teetering at the edge of a cliff.
Im Sobyeong also admitted that he himself was still far from being enough.
The only one qualified to sit across from Jang Ilso at the game board he’d laid out was Chung Myung.
‘But no matter how formidable Dojang may be….’
Im Sobyeong clenched his tightly shut teeth.
There was only one reason the board, once evenly balanced, had tilted so drastically: Jang Ilso had suddenly thrown the rules away.
Chung Myung wouldn’t sacrifice his own people, and Jang Ilso wouldn’t lose Maninbang. This unspoken agreement had served as a sort of minimal rule that both sides abided by. Move by move, they had continued without stepping outside those bounds.
But then Jang Ilso singlehandedly broke that pact.
Maninbang and even Ho Gamyeong, became pieces on the board in front of Jang Ilso. By ruthlessly sacrificing them, Jang Ilso had secured an absolute advantage.
Can that be overturned?
No – more than that, could Chung Myung counter a move that demanded sacrificing not only his allies but even himself? And still stubbornly protect Hwasan, Cheonumaeng, and everything else? The answer came far too easily.
‘No, that’s impossible. It can’t be done.’
Yet even so, Im Sobyeong couldn’t give up altogether. He couldn’t throw away the faint glimmer of hope remaining in one corner of his heart.
Because that man was Chung Myung.
‘And that man has always pulled off the impossible.’
So, in the end, he had no choice but to believe that this time as well, a miracle would surely come to pass.
❀ ❀ ❀
“Damn it!”
Moyong Wigyeong spat out a harsh curses. The ‘Jang Ilso’ in his grasp was coughing up blood, on the brink of death. In a self-triggered explosion, the bastard had been scorched black.
And as a result of that explosion, Moyong Wigyeong was also covered in soot.
“This fake bastard……”
Moyong Wigyeong hurled aside the fake Jang Ilso.
If this had been the real Jang Ilso, he would have gone down in history as the hero who saved the world. But the gamble had failed, and now all he could do was wait for the news that someone else had taken Jang Ilso down.
‘No. Perhaps even now…’
Moyong Wigyeong quickly looked around. If those following him still had any strength left, they could try to go after a different ‘Jang Ilso’ once more.
“Tsk.”
But he soon shook his head in disappointment.
They all looked utterly exhausted. They had used every last bit of their strength chasing after those who fled for their lives, so there was no other way. Leading them now would be impossible. Continuing the fight was out of the question. Even moving seemed difficult.
And why not? Even martial artists are humans in the end. Being stronger and able to move for longer periods of time doesn’t mean they never tire. Once they’ve reached their limit, they first need to recover their energy and reorganize.
“My Lord, how…”
“Hoooo.”
Moyong Wigyeong let out a sigh instead of answering. With that, he cast aside his last lingering regret.
“We can’t afford to circulate our energy right now, so let’s rest for a bit and then move on.”
“Yes.”
Moyong Wigyeong clicked his tongue and surveyed the surroundings.
‘At any rate, we’ve come quite far.’
Even if they went searching for the others now, he couldn’t be sure they would find them easily.
Moyong Wigyeong shot an irritable glance at the charred corpse.
“Damn bastard. Why run so desperately when you’re just a fake anyway?”
If he didn’t want to die, he could’ve simply chosen not to pose as a fake.
Everything grated on his nerves. Right as Moyong Wigyeong was about to turn away.
“Hm?”
He spotted some movement in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, he looked more closely.
Something was approaching from far away.
‘Are they from the Alliance?’
Perhaps another group that still had some energy left had come this way chasing a fake. If so, he could laugh at them and tell them that there was no real one here either.
In truth, he didn’t bother considering the other possibilities.
He had seen Sapaeryeon, with his own eyes, scattering in all directions, literally split and fleeing for their lives.
“Who’s leading them…?”
He was about to make a casual remark when he fell silent, unable to finish his sentence.
The group approaching was split in two lines by the person in the center – on one side, people dressed in black, and on the other side, people dressed in red.
Moyong Wigyeong racked his brain. Were there any people in Cheonumaeng dressed like that?
No. Absolutely not.
Even if the hastily formed groups had become meaningless and people ended up naturally flocking together with those they were familiar with once the real fighting started, there was no unit wearing such distinct uniforms gathered together like that.
And more than anything else…
“Red… robes?”
Within Cheonumaneg, there was no one who wore red robes. Moyong Wigyeong’s face gradually turned pale.
“That is……”
The approaching group grew clearer with each passing moment.
Though the signature red robe – once practically a symbol of the man at the center, at the very front – was missing, Moyong Wigyeong was immediately certain.
“Ja, Jang… Jang Ilso! Jang Ilso!”
“What?”
“My Lord, what are you…!”
“Jang Ilso! That bastard! He’s coming!”
Moyong Wigyeong screamed as though he had lost his mind. Those who had just been about to take a break scattered in panic, stumbling over themselves.
“Uh…”
“Th-The real Jang Ilso!”
“Aaah! Jang Ilso is coming! That bastard! He’s after us!”
Watching this, Jang Ilso clicked his tongue briefly.
“My, my… not even a shred of dignity.”
Then, wearing a faint smile, he gave his command.
“A clean beginning sets the tone. Kill them all, as quickly as possible.”
“Yes!”
Jang Ilso’s venomous fangs sank mercilessly into the exhausted body of Cheonumaeng.
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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