Return of the Mount Hua

If there is such a thing as fate. (5)

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“Aaaaargh!”

Rage sometimes pushes a person beyond their limits.

It draws out strength one could never summon and makes one do what was once impossible.

That was exactly what was happening with Tang Soso’s sword. Power she could never have imagined surged into her Plum Blossom Sword.

It was a sword filled with worry. Confronted by her purely explosive emotions, a chilling smile of delight momentarily appeared on Jang Ilso’s face.

Clang!

His bracelet and Tang Soso’s sword collided head-on.

“Jang Ilso! Jang Ilso! Jang Ilsooooo!”

Tang Soso swung her sword like a storm, shedding tears while continuing to press on.

The force behind her sword had grown tremendously, but that was all. A swordsman must never lose composure. Once precision leaves the sword, it is no different from a woodcutter’s axe.

However powerful it had become, such a blade could not so much as graze the hem of Jang Ilso’s robe.

And Tang Soso, a swordswoman who had crossed the line of death countless times, sensed this instinctively. Even while swept up in her turbulent emotions, she desperately struggled to minimize her openings.

Of course, her opponent was Jang Ilso and improvisation alone was hardly sufficient. In the brief exchange of a few moves, gaps appeared that could have cost Tang Soso her life several times over.

Yet Jang Ilso did not reach out to strike. He only watched Tang Soso rage, his eyes simmering intensely. The expression now lingering at the corners of his lips differed distinctly from his usual mockery or derision.

“Aaaaargh!”

At last, as Tang Soso flew at him with a roar, Jang Ilso finally extended his hand.

Thunk.

He seized the hand that held her sword with absurd ease, then yanked her towards him before she could even react.

Tang Soso’s tear-filled eyes and Jang Ilso’s gently curved ones met at point-blank range.

Jang Ilso spoke slowly.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Y-You…”

“You were prepared for this, weren’t you.”

Tang Soso trembled before she even realized it. It was as though Jang Ilso’s words had stabbed straight into her heart.

“You were prepared, weren’t you? When you so arrogantly boasted… didn’t you ever consider what you might lose?”

“Let gooooo!”

Tang Soso brought her sword crashing down in a frenzy.

It could hardly be called swordsmanship – rather, it was closer to the desperate, mindless swinging of some stick by someone who had completely lost their reason.

“What do you know? You, of all people!”

Clang! Clang!

Her sword repeatedly struck Jang Ilso’s bracelets in frenzied bursts.

After a series of reckless strikes, she regained a sliver of discipline as a swordsman and unleashed a sudden burst of Plum Blossom Sword energy.

But a mere instant before that, Jang Ilso’s palm thrust into her solar plexus.

Boooom!

Cough.

Blood burst from Tang Soso’s mouth. Like a kite which string had snapped, she flew back and slammed into the ground.

“Dojaaaang!”

Namgung Dowi shouted in shock.

“Ugh….”

Yet Tang Soso soon squirmed and pushed herself up. She was grievously wounded, but far less injured than one would expect after taking Jang Ilso’s strike unguarded.

Seeing this, Namgung Dowi felt relief and doubt in equal measure.

‘No way…’

It was certainly fortunate, yet entirely impossible.

Jang Ilso, showing mercy with his attack? Such a scenario was unimaginable – even in one’s dreams.

Could it have been a mistake? That notion, too, clashed with all of Namgung Dowi’s common sense. The man was Jang Ilso, after all.

That left only one possibility.

“Get up.”

Jang Ilso smiled softly, eyes fixed on Tang Soso.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much, does it?”

Indeed, an indescribable chill emanated from Jang Ilso. Sensing a grave crisis, Namgung Dowi tried to move somehow to help Tang Soso, but carrying it out was impossible.

“Kyaaaaaaagh!”

“D-Damn…..!”

Namgung Dowi barely dodged the jet-black hand that suddenly lunged towards his face.

Indeed, with severe injuries weighing on him, even facing the rampaging demonic cultists before his eyes was a struggle for Namgung Dowi. In truth, even staying alive against them bordered on sheer luck.

Hye Yeon and Lee Songbaek weren’t faring any better. If anything, they faced even more enemies than Namgung Dowi.

“Damn it!”

Cursing, Namgung Dowi swung his sword. Even in this moment, Jang Ilso was slowly but steadily approaching Tang Soso.

“Hhh…….”

Tang Soso drew ragged breaths. Her chest heaved violently without pause. The pain that radiated from her solar plexus felt as though it would crush her entire body.

And towards her, Jang Ilso advanced.

It was a situation in which crushing pressure should have been overwhelming, yet Tang Soso’s head was filled to the brim with blinding rage and hatred. And…

Drip.

The tears would not stop. A grief so immense that neither hatred nor anger could fully hide it raging inside her. The sorrow swelled and swelled, until it seemed ready to sweep her mind clean.

“Does it hurt? So much that you can’t do anything more?”

Jang Ilso tilted his head slightly, as though he could not understand. Yet it surely was not because he truly could not comprehend it.

“Isn’t it strange? You kept boasting about righteousness, about chivalry. From what I understand, true righteousness begins by willingly sacrificing oneself. So why is the illustrious swordsman of Hwasan acting so pitifully? Ah, perhaps…”

A chilling smile touched Jang Ilso’s lips.

“Could it be that you’ve never really had such resolve?”

Tang Soso flinched. Not missing it, Jang Ilso smiled brightly and continued.

“People, surprisingly, don’t know themselves very well.”

“….Shut up.”

“Yes, perhaps you truly believed that. That you could sacrifice anything, give it all up. That, whatever situation befell you, you could grit your teeth and endure. All for that sugar-coated, so-called Noble Cause.”

“Shut… up……”

Jang Ilso’s eyes suddenly turned icy and calm.

“But ‘loss’ is not something you can bear with such half-baked resolve.”

At those gentle yet merciless words, Tang Soso’s gaze wavered violently.

No matter how hard she tried, the tears would not stop. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t so, to shout that he was wrong. Yet the despair coiling around her only grew more vivid the more she struggled.

“A life with blades stuck in your flesh, crossing the line of death itself, losing your future, failing to obtain what you desired, enduring an endless thirst.”

Jang Ilso nodded leisurely.

“Yes, admirable. Truly admirable. But… by now you, too, must know, don’t you?”

“…”

“Such things alone are not a ‘true loss’. Loss is having what you least wish to lose torn from you by force. It is not simply losing, it is being robbed of it. Yes… just as I stole your father’s life.”

She ought to grind her teeth, glare with eyes overflowing with hatred, hurl words laced with curses – yet Tang Soso could not.

Jang Ilso’s calmly flowing words seized her mind and would not let go, slowly, coldly eating away at her within.

“No!”

At last Tang Soso cried out, charging at Jang Ilso even more recklessly than before – and, of course, was flung back even faster than she had lunged forward.

Once more sent tumbling, Tang Soso clawed at the ground.

No matter how she strained herself, no strength would enter her fingers. Behind her, Jang Ilso’s voice descended heavily.

“Do you understand? It means your resolve was lacking.”

Tang Soso’s shoulders trembled like aspen leaves. A grief so deep she could not even sob aloud. Jang Ilso’s eyes, watching her sorrow, glinted with a strange, unreadable light.

“Tell me. Had you truly braced yourself for a loss?”

“Jang Il……”

“Truly?”

Clack.

Tang Soso jerked her head up before she knew it. Perhaps it was a premonition born of instinct.

Jang Ilso standing before her was not looking at her. For a brief instant, his gaze had definitely shifted elsewhere.

Towards Hye Yeon, towards Namgung Dowi, towards Lee Songbaek.

A chill ran down her spine, and goosebumps prickled her skin. It was both intuition and the obvious conclusion.

In that moment Tang Soso sprang to her feet.

Her bones and muscles screamed, and the inner energy surged backward from her battered dantian. But none of that mattered.

“Don’t…. pull that crap.”

She rose even while blood continued streaming from her mouth. She had no choice. If she merely sat there, Jang Ilso’s blade would turn on them.

“Ooh?”

Jang Ilso looked at her with amusement.

“I won’t lose… I won’t lose anything. Whatever it is, I won’t let a bastard like you take it from me!”

“…”

“I’ll grind you to dust!”

Her large eyes boiled with savage hatred. At the same time, a killing intent sharp as a blade slicing skin swept over Jang Ilso.

“Haha….”

It was a ferocity unimaginable from a Just Sect’s swordsman. The source of that fierce intent was clearly different from the Noble Cause [대의(大義)] she had been shouting about moments ago.

Tang Soso was scared – of losing what must never be lost.

Only after experiencing loss did she realize how terrifying that was.

The fear of losing no more. No one could point fingers and call it lowly. The desire to protect what is precious deserves praise.

With hands that trembled violently she gripped her sword. She forced her inner energy to rise and set her shaking legs moving.

And in her figure Jang Ilso saw himself.

“So I am what you hate. And yet…”

The corners of Jang Ilso’s lips lifted high. Wearing a sinister smile, he glared at Tang Soso – at everything in this world – with dreadful loathing.

“…The feeling is mutual, you see.”

In an instant Jang Ilso’s entire body was engulfed in blue flames.

❀ ❀ ❀

Boom!

“Aagh! Damn it!”

Baek Sang’s scream rang out from behind, but even that did not slow Baek Cheon.

It was a hellish battlefield. As he sprinted, swords charged with lethal inner energy skimmed past by a hair’s breadth. A single mistake – no, a single stroke of misfortune – would see his head chopped off.

Yet such dangers meant nothing to Baek Cheon now. In his eyes there was only one figure, back turned, fleeing.

“Stop, you son of a bitch!”

Bang!

Baek Cheon slammed his foot into the ground.

Logically thinking, catching up was impossible: Baek Cheon’s martial arts were shattered, while his enemy’s were not.

But right now it could be done. After all, Baek Cheon was not the only one who had to dodge the indiscriminate blades slashing friend and foe alike.

Even so, the gap between him and the masked man refused to close. To make it worse, Baek Cheon’s dantian screamed in agony.

Flames burst in Baek Cheon’s eyes.

Clang!

Without hesitation he drew his sword.

“You!”

Kuuuuung! He pounded the earth again. Whether his mangled arm could hold out was unknown. He could only trust it would.

“Stooooop!”

Baek Cheon swung with everything he had. His arm shrieked, the brace creaked as if about to snap.

Paaaaaang!

And yet, even so, his blade somehow gathered force and tore through the air.

The sword, spinning like a top, flew towards the masked man’s back. Sensing something flying in behind him, the masked man turned around sharply and hastily drew his own blade.

Clang!

He knocked Baek Cheon’s sword aside. But that alone was enough.

“Sang-ah!”

“I know!”

Not wasting the momentary gap, Baek Sang flew in and brought his sword down towards the masked man’s head.

Bang!

The masked man blocked Baek Sang’s strike and shifted into a defensive stance. The feet that had moved without rest halted for the first time.

“Uaaaargh!”

Baek Cheon charged at the masked man and rammed him with his shoulder.

Thud!

The masked man tumbled to the ground. Seeing him finally forced to a stop, Baek Cheon roared.

“Got you, you punk!”

The crouching man clutched his mask with one hand and glared at Baek Cheon. In the eyes revealed between the mask’s slits gleamed a chilling and unfathomable hostility.

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