Go ahead. Try and kill me. (3)
Jo Geol swallowed dryly.
When he lowered his gaze, feeling the pain that arrived belatedly, he saw that his fingernails had dug into his palms, and blood was seeping out.
It was a battle he didn’t even dare to look away from.
Before Jo Geol’s eyes, the very pinnacle of martial arts – impossible for him even to imitate – was unfolding.
Across the entire Gangho there were surely those who could stage an even higher-level duel than this, for neither Jang Ilso nor Chung Myung were in perfect condition.
There was no need to look that far. The fight against the Bishop in Hangzhou back then had been like that. It had been, without question, even more destructive than the one unfolding now.
However, at least for Jo Geol, this present battle felt several times more intense than that one. It was probably due to the sheer, overwhelming desperation that could be felt even from where be stood.
“…It seems they’re evenly matched.”
Yoon Jong’s words carried both doubt and hope.
Chung Myung’s condition was clearly not normal. By now, no one could fail to notice. Even so, he was matching Jang Ilso blow for blow.
“No… If anything, it seems like he’s even slightly ahead, doesn’t it, Sahyeong?”
Tang Soso’s opinion was similar to Yoon Jong’s and Jo Geol’s. Depending on one’s perspective, the upper hand might shift, but so far, the match was so evenly balanced that no one could confidently predict the victor.
Yet the cautious hope that was starting to rise was shattered by someone’s strained voice.
“No. That’s not the case.”
“Monk?”
Hye Yeon, who had been sitting down, trying to steady his exhausted body, was struggling to his feet. His face, pale as a blank sheet of paper, showed plainly how bad his condition was.
“Wait, now isn’t the time…”
Tang Soso reflexively tried to hold him back, but Hye Yeon shook his head firmly, as though this was no time to look after his own body.
There was a hint of sorrow in Hye Yeon’s eyes.
“Certainly, Chung Myung Siju is fighting bravely, but the one with the advantage is Paegun. At this rate, he won’t be able to endure even a hundred more moves.”
“A hundred moves? Are you saying he can’t last even a hundred more moves?”
“…The only reason Dojang appears to be holding his own is because he’s fighting as if throwing his life away at every moment. If he slips even once while walking that tightrope… he won’t last even a hundred moves.”
Hye Yeon bit his lower lip lightly. To put it bluntly, even this was an optimistic assessment. In his current state, it wouldn’t be surprising if Chung Myung collapsed at any moment, blood spraying from his body.
‘It’s true that Chung Myung Siju is weaker than usual, but even more than that, Jang Ilso is overwhelmingly strong.’
Even Hye Yeon had not expected Jang Ilso to be this strong. He had never once taken him lightly simply because he was the ‘Paegun’.
‘Could he really be this strong…?’
Hye Yeon pressed on the hole in his abdomen. It was a wound he had received when his flank was stabbed. Even if the fight had continued as it was, he would not have lasted long.
Jang Ilso was strong. Paegun possessed something different from every form of ‘strength’ Hye Yeon had known until now.
No matter how great Chung Myung was, Hye Yeon doubted he could work a miracle against Jang Ilso.
Hye Yeon clenched his trembling hand with difficulty.
“Rather…….”
Joint attack.
He could not quite bring himself to say it aloud. Yet perhaps that was the wisest choice right now. Just as Cheonumaeng relied on Chung Myung, or perhaps even more so, Sapaeryeon relied heavily on Jang Ilso. Without Jang Ilso, Sapaeryeon was not Sapaeryeon.
So, perhaps, if they gambled everything now and attacked with the sole purpose of taking down Jang Ilso…
“He is still fighting.”
But at that moment, Yoon Jong’s calm voice reached him.
“As long as he does not give up, we must believe in him as well.”
There was not a trace of wavering in his voice. Hearing it, Hye Yeon’s own heart gradually grew calm.
‘Amitabha.’
Hye Yeon quietly put his palms together in prayer. His once-turbulent mind was settling.
“I have shown an embarrassing side.”
“By no means, Monk. It’s just…”
“Yes?”
“It seems the other side does not think so.”
Following Yoon Jong’s gaze, Hye Yeon turned his head. Just like on their side, the members of Sapaeryeon, who had been unable to take their eyes off the two fighters, were starting to move. There were warriors of the Blood Palace dressed in red, and strange figures in black robes whose true identities were still hard to guess.
Srrrng.
Without a second word Yoon Jong drew his sword. Jo Geol’s and Tang Soso’s swords flashed out right after.
“Honestly.”
“Those damn Sapa bastards are all the same.”
It struck them anew: what was unfolding here was no honorable martial arts contest for supremacy in Gangho, but a fight with no retreat, where the side that finished with even one more survivor would claim Gangho for themselves.
“Hoooo.”
Hye Yeon drew a deep breath.
“I shall lend a hand.”
“Will you be all right?”
“If we lose we die anyway – what is the point of saving my strength?”
Normally Yoon Jong would have stopped him, but this time he nodded. To be honest, Hwasan alone lacked the strength to face those foes.
No matter what, they had to keep those people from interfering in the fight between Jang Ilso and Chung Myung.
Because right now, the only way Cheonumaeng could win was for Chung Myung to defeat Jang Ilso.
‘I believe in you, Chung Myung-ah.’
Yoon Jong stamped the ground without hesitation.
“Keep those bastards from interfering!”
“Yes!”
Hwasan’s swordsmen drew their blades in unison and charged towards the enemy.
❀ ❀ ❀
Throb. Throb.
Blood streamed steadily from the hole in his abdomen. A wound difficult to seal even through pressure points.
Rip.
However, Chung Myung ripped off the hem of his clothes without hesitation and stuffed the piece of cloth into the hole in his stomach.
Watching Chung Myung staunch his bleeding in the most extreme way imaginable, Jang Ilso groaned and then shook his head.
“Ugh… How dreadful. Where in the world did you learn something like that?”
Even Jang Ilso, who had trampled and killed countless people, found it difficult to watch such a scene. The true problem, however, was that Chung Myung’s expression didn’t change in the slightest as he did it.
“…No matter how I look at it, I think you’ve chosen the wrong side. Had you joined us, you’d have surely become a great demon lord [대마두(大魔頭)] of Gangho.”
“And your head would’ve already been chopped off.”
“Oh, would it have been like that? Haha!”
Jang Ilso laughed genuinely, as if thoroughly amused.
Snap.
After ripping off and discarding the remaining scraps of cloth, Chung Myung lightly shook off his hands. He kept coughing uncontrollably.
The hardest part about fighting a supreme martial artist was neither their strength nor speed.
Every motion, every collision, carried immense internal energy. Even if he blocked or avoided the strikes, the overwhelming force dominating the surroundings inevitably reverberated through his body.
“Cough.”
Such impacts, penetrating directly into his body, were particularly lethal to Chung Myung, already suffering internal injuries.
‘This isn’t good.’
Chung Myung roughly wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.
He hadn’t expected the fight to push him this far when it began.
‘He’s strong… Stronger than I could ever believe someone could become in such a peaceful world.’
Naturally, Jang Ilso couldn’t fully comprehend Chung Myung’s desperate struggle. But likewise, Chung Myung found Jang Ilso equally difficult to understand.
Certainly, the ruthless infighting within the Evil Sects was something Just Sect’s martial artists would hardly grasp. Chung Myung could at least comprehend that someone who climbed through the Hoards of Asuras* was accustomed to combat.
Yet being accustomed merely to brutality and being experienced in high-level combat were entirely different matters. Repeated low-level skirmishes did nothing to build the adaptability needed to survive high-level battles.
Indeed, wasn’t this the very limitation the Evil Sects had never managed to overcome throughout the entire history of Gangho?
Yet, what Jang Ilso was showing now was clearly different from the typical image of the Evil Sects.
Within him coexisted the ferocity of the Evil Sect and perfect mastery of higher-level techniques. In a way, this might be the form closest to Chung Myung’s own ideal of perfected martial arts.
It wasn’t despair exactly, but Chung Myung wasn’t foolish enough to overestimate himself.
‘I won’t last long.’
This body would soon reach its limit. At that point, everything would be over. The only remaining path was to end the fight before reaching that breaking point.
Chung Myung tightened his grip on the sword.
‘Perhaps… this might be my last…’
The thought unexpectedly drew a faint smile to his lips.
Meanwhile, Jang Ilso, standing opposite him, was also lost in deep contemplation.
‘Strange.’
Jang Ilso quietly clenched and loosened his fist.
A chilling pain crossed his face.
This wasn’t pain from the scars left by the plum blossom sword energy. Rather, this pain stemmed from the murderous intent Chung Myung wielded, cutting deep into him.
‘Still at this level…’
Jang Ilso didn’t underestimate Chung Myung. In fact, he might be the one who thought most highly of Chung Myung in the entire world.
Yet even according to Jang Ilso’s calculations, Chung Myung should have reached his limits by now. With the fierce battle underway, his internal injuries would surely have worsened dramatically.
Jang Ilso had assumed Chung Myung would steadily collapse and decay, needing no direct finishing blow.
And yet, the longer the battle continued, the stronger the killing intent and fighting spirit he felt from Chung Myung became. How could this possibly be explained?
‘Could it be… that he’s recovering while fighting? From internal injuries so severe he is on the verge of being driven into the state of demonic possession [입마(入魔)**]?’
Jang Ilso let out a cold laugh.
This was absurd. Yet, Jang Ilso knew well enough: when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remained, no matter how ridiculous, had to be true.
‘Well, well… This is truly too much.’
A wave of dejection swept over him.
Chung Myung had a hole pierced through his body and was spitting blood from repeated internal impacts. Yet the more he fought, the stronger he grew – truly, a monster. What sort of creature was he facing?
“In other words, the longer this drags on, the more disadvantageous it becomes for me. How chilling.”
For the first time, the word ‘defeat’ flashed through Jang Ilso’s mind.
Right now, it was just the faintest possibility. Yet, Jang Ilso sensed it clearly. As time passed, that faint possibility would steadily grow until it tightened around his throat.
That meant there was only one option left.
He had to cut off Chung Myung’s breath before he could recover any further. He had to end this at once, without letting the fight drag on.
Crack.
Jang Ilso clenched his fists so hard they nearly shattered.
There was no point wondering whether it was possible or not. If he could do it, he would win. If he couldn’t, his head would roll. Simple as that.
‘It’s good that it’s clear.’
One thing was certain, though. Here and now, one of them would surely lose their life.
Throb. A dull pain spread from his chest.
Intense excitement made his heart pound violently. The sensation brought on by this agitation felt closer to pain than anything else. Experiencing a kind of thrill he had never felt before, Jang Ilso slowly stepped forward.
“Now, shall we begin again?”
Scrape.
Chung Myung’s sword briefly scraped the ground.
“As many times as you want.”
Facing each other, the two exchanged cold smiles, then kicked off the ground and charged forward.
Jang Ilso’s white robes and Chung Myung’s black uniform had both become stained the same dark crimson. Just as the hostility and expressions on their faces mirrored each other, even the sorrowful color of their blood matched closely.
Fwoooosh!
They raced towards each other, cutting across the rain-soaked earth. A sword wreathed in crimson energy and a fist blazing with blue flames shot forward, each seeking the other’s life.
Boooom!
In a world steeped in darkness, that energy burst forth – spreading like an explosion as it soared into the air.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Fist and sword trembled violently, pressing stubbornly against each other. This was a clash without even a shred of energy held in reserve – a truly all-out confrontation.
The fierce heat radiating from the two, clashing with everything they had, scorched the rain-soaked ground beneath them.
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*아수라당(阿修羅堂) – a figurative expression, meaning brutal, merciless place, ‘a Hall of Asuras.’ Tbh it was funny to find an article where a political party was called 아수라당.
**입마(入魔) – ibma – it’s in the glossary.
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How do they not recognize demonic cult? Black robes, black arms, red eyes, distinct demonic energy… They always remember the Bishop in Hangzhou, but can’t recognize the cultists?
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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