Dying would be easier. (2)
βHuffβ¦. β
Unable to withstand the shock inflicted upon his body, the blood vessels in his eyes burst all at once. His vision blurred so much that he could barely see because of the bleeding inside his eyes, yet even through those eyes Chung Myung could see it clearly.
Dark Plum Sword. His beloved blade, symbolizing the ties between the Tang Clan and Hwasan, was driven into Jang Ilsoβs chest.
A stark white blade embedded through fabric soaked crimson.
Along that razor-sharp edge, the blood of the foremost figure in the Evil Sects dripped down.
That was not all. The feeling transmitted to his fingertips told him – this strike had certainly landedβ¦
But in that instant, Jang Ilsoβs palm slammed like a burning brand against the center of Chung Myungβs chest.
Boooom!
Coughing up blood into empty air, Chung Myung was hurled violently backward.
βHaβ¦ ahβ¦β¦β
Jang Ilso let out a groan laced with both exhaustion and pain. His pale hand quickly reddened as it pressed tightly against the gaping black wound.
βGughk!β
Spitting out blood, Jang Ilso squeezed at the injury on his chest, as if trying to wrench away the pain, and spoke.
ββ¦It hurts, you know.β
His brow furrowed deeply. Excruciating pain spread through his entire body. The eyes that would not stop trembling flashed wickedly for a moment.
Gnash.
Jang Ilso spat out a clot of bloody phlegm, bit down hard on his own lips, and continued.
βThat was a bit much, Hwasan Geomhyeopβ¦ I truly thought I was going to die.β
With great difficulty, Chung Myung pushed himself upright.
βPtoo.β
He spat out a large clot of blood and casually wiped the darkened blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. Then he muttered.
ββ¦What a joke.β
Slam!
Planting his sword into the ground to prop himself, Chung Myung somehow forced his trembling body up. Though he swayed as if he would collapse any second, he somehow managed to remain upright. Then, baring bloodied teeth, he smiled brightly.
βYouβd better get used to it early. Itβll hurt even more when you actually die.β
ββ¦β
βIsnβt that right?β
βTsk.β
Jang Ilsoβs expression subtly twisted.
βEven on the brink of death, you just canβt let go of that bravado.β
Looking at Chung Myung, who seemed like he could collapse at any moment, Jang Ilso channeled his energy into his right hand. The visible wounds might make it seem like Jang Ilso had taken the heavier blow, but in truth, Chung Myungβs injuries were far more severe.
That meant he had to press the attack without giving him a chance to breathe – before the bleeding from the sword wound worsened.
Just as Jang Ilso finished calculating his next move and instinctively stepped forward.
Stagger.
His body shook violently. Eyes wide, he looked down at his own legs, dazed.
βDid I suffer internal injuries?β
He quickly circulated his energy to reassess his condition.
But it wasnβt internal injury. Of course, the sword strike that had pierced his chest was serious, but it was only an external injury [μΈμ(ε€ε·)*] – no more than a gash through his flesh. There was no reason at all he should be suffering internal injuries.
Then why, all of a sudden, were his legs refusing to obey him?
βImpossibleβ¦β
The tips of Jang Ilsoβs fingers trembled faintly.
βAm I afraid? Me?β
Crunch!
He grabbed his own knee hard. His fingers dug into his skin, sending a chilling wave of pain through him.
βThisβ¦β
A brutal sense of humiliation seized Jang Ilso.
He had been through more life-or-death situations than one could count. At times, he had even willingly confronted death itself, prepared to accept his own demise without hesitation.
And now, after all that, his body was freezing up from fear? Ridiculous.
At that moment, devoid of much emotion, Chung Myungβs voice reached his ears.
βYour bodyβ¦ cough! Cough! Damn itβ¦.β
After cursing, Chung Myung spat out another mouthful of blood and continued speaking.
ββ¦Looks like your body isnβt listening to you either.β
Jang Ilso gave no reply. He merely glared at Chung Myung with sharp, narrowed eyes.
Chung Myung let out a short snicker.
βWant me to tell you why?β
βWhat nonsense are you spouting nowβ¦?β
βDeath itself is nothing. Weβve both come far beyond fearing such a trivial thing. Isnβt that right?β
ββ¦β
βYou are not afraid of death.β
Scrape.
Chung Myungβs sword scraped across the ground.
βWhat is truly frighteningβ¦ is the dread that death might prevent you from accomplishing what you must.β
ββ¦β
βThe dread that your end might render everything youβve achieved meaningless – that anxiety is whatβs holding you back.β
Jang Ilso stared blankly at Chung Myung, as if struck on the back of the head.
ββ¦Anxiety?β
βExactly.β
Jang Ilso slowly tilted his head to the side, as though he simply couldnβt grasp what heβd just heard.
βIsnβt that the same for everyone? Who doesnβt know everything ends when they die?β
βDoes it?β
Chung Myung let out another faint chuckle.
Scrape.
The tip of his sword, tireless, scraped the ground once more.
βThere was a time I lived like you, convinced without a shred of doubt that everything depended on my sword.β
At the end of his words, Chung Myung slowly shook his head.
βBut not anymore.β
From beneath his swollen eyelids, a calm gaze emerged.
βBecause Iβve seen them – people whose story doesnβt end with death, those who forge something that will continue after theyβre gone.β
After staring at Chung Myung for a long while, Jang Ilso let out a hollow laugh.
βHah. I was wondering what nonsense youβd spew this timeβ¦.β
βBut do you know?β
Chung Myung smiled back at Jang Ilso. Yet the nature of his smile was clearly different from Jang Ilsoβs.
βYouβve already failed.β
A sharp twitch ran across the corners of Jang Ilsoβs eye.
βFailed?β
βYes. Because you will leave nothing behind.β
Chung Myung slowly nodded, then found himself laughing again. Strangely, quiet chuckles kept slipping out of him.
Everyone has something they must achieve at all costs. To reach that destination, theyβd sacrifice anything. But once that desperately desired goal is accomplished, whatβs left afterward?
βThere is nothing there.β
Chung Myung laughed bitterly. With each shudder of his body, darkened blood gushed out from the holes pierced through his flesh.
βNothingβ¦ nothing at all. All that awaits is just emptiness.β
He had been there before.
Cutting off the Heavenly Demonβs head – Chung Myung had once devoted himself entirely to that single goal, even more desperately and ruthlessly than Jang Ilso now.
Yet in the final moment, all that remained in Chung Myungβs grasp was regret, and regret alone.
βWhat matters isnβt what you accomplish, but what you leave behind.β
ββ¦β
βBut you probably wouldnβt understand no matter how I put it.β
Chung Myung chuckled softly again.
– No matter what I say, what could reach you as you are now?
The way Chung Myung looked at Jang Ilso now could hardly differ from how Chung Mun once looked at Chung Myung.
One who is βconsumedβ can neither see nor leave anything behind.
That was why Chung Myung saw his own past in Jang Ilsoβs figure now. Their destinations differed, but their methods were essentially the same.
But at the very leastβ¦
ββWhat you leave behind,β is it.β
At that moment, Jang Ilso looked up at the dark clouds filling the sky. Reaching out his hand as if to grasp the falling rain, he suddenly laughed quietly.
βYouβre joking, right?β
Fwoosh.
Suddenly, Jang Ilsoβs body stretched like taffy**, surging towards Chung Myung. Chung Myung reflexively tried to swing his sword, but his wounded body refused to obey his will.
Boom!
His half-hearted swing was effortlessly deflected by Jang Ilsoβs fist.
Kwaaang!
A moment later the left fist that came flying buried itself in Chung Myungβs solar plexus up to the wrist.
βGah!β
Unable to bear the shock and pain, Chung Myungβs mouth gaped wide. Jang Ilso instantly kicked Chung Myung, whose body had reflexively doubled over.
Booom!
With a thunderous crash Chung Myung was hurled backward, yet Jang Ilso did not allow him the slightest chance to escape. He snatched Chung Myungβs wrist as he recoiled and yanked him straight back, then gripped the back of his head and drove it towards the ground.
Boooom!
βKkβ¦.β
Chung Myungβs body convulsed.
βWhat will you leave behind?β
Booom!
Jang Ilso smashed Chung Myungβs head down again. He then grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, causing Chung Myungβs limp body to appear as if he knelt before him.
βWhat you leave behind, you say? Hahahahahaha! Isnβt that hilarious! Ahahahahahaha!β
Jang Ilso burst into manic laughter. Blood trickled down his pale face, streaming down like tears. After laughing for some time, he roughly jerked Chung Myungβs collar, pulling his face right up to his own.
Jang Ilsoβs mad eyes glared at Chung Myung from point-blank range.
βHow naive.β
ββ¦β
βA person can never truly know anotherβs heart. They merely assume what it would be like and take comfort in that assumption, because otherwise the anxiety would consume them.β
βJang Il…β
βLeave something behind? Trust someone other than myself? Believe my will shall be carried on? Believe others will do what I could not? Believe? Trust? Someone else?β
Chung Myungβs body trembled slightly.
It shouldnβt have been possible, yet in that instant Chung Myung felt himself completely overwhelmed by Jang Ilso for a brief moment.
βTrust?β
Booom!
Kicked hard once more, Chung Myung was flung away and rolled across the ground.
βTrust? Itβs nothing but a petty trick, a comforting lie concocted by those worthless pigs who canβt accomplish anything on their own.β
ββ¦β
βThose who can achieve greatness by themselves never speak of trust. Only incompetent fools hide behind such empty words.β
With trembling hands, Chung Myung pushed himself painfully up from the ground. Jang Ilso watched the effort with a strange look.
βYou, of all people, should know, shouldnβt you?β
Hostility surged in his eyes – and yet, there was also an unfathomable depth of faith in those eyes.
Reading this clearly, Chung Myung let out a faint laugh. To call it a laugh was generous – it was merely a slight twitch on his ravaged face.
ββ¦Yes. I know.β
Now even his hands would no longer obey him, yet Chung Myung forced his body upright again.
Crunch.
Gathering the last of his strength, he gripped his sword firmly.
βI know exactlyβ¦ how damn wretched it is.β
His body was at its worst, yet for some reason hollow laughter kept escaping him.
βSo, Iβll tell you.β
ββ¦What?β
βThat the one who says trust is worthless is merely someone who hasnβt yet stood at the very end.β
He should have trusted a little more.
In his final moments, Chung Myung had resented Chung Mun. Heβd blamed Chung Munβs blind trust and naive kindness.
But the Chung Myung of now resents the self he was back then.
Why couldnβt he trust a little more? Why didnβt he try a little harder to help him?
If he had, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe he wouldnβt be standing here now, like some lingering wraith, trapped in this place.
Hooβ¦
Chung Myung slowly steadied what little inner energy he had left.
βHow much do I have left?β
Then again, whatβs the use of such things now?
All that was left was to bring him down. Use every last ounce of strength he had. After that, the rest would be up to them.
As Chung Myung took a deep breath, making his final preparations, Jang Ilso spoke.
βTrust, huhβ¦ Yeah, perhaps you might be right.β
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes – not because the words surprised him, but because he caught the faint spark in Jang Ilsoβs face as he spoke.
βBut that thing you call trust – itβs a word you can only use when thereβs someone to give it to, isnβt it?β
ββ¦What?β
An unknown unease swept through Chung Myungβs chest, and before he knew it – forgetting even his resolve not to – his gaze shifted towards the spot a little way off, the place Jang Ilso had been watching since moments ago.
βAnswer me.β
The instant Jang Ilsoβs voice brushed his ears, Chung Myung saw it.
A red tide surging towards them from the far end of the earth, the ground stained black by darkness.
βAhβ¦..β
A groan, half sigh and half lament, slipped from Chung Myungβs lips. Even from this distance, there was no mistaking what they were.
Jang Ilsoβs hounds were racing towards their master in a mad frenzy.
βIf everyone dies and disappears, then where will your trust go?β
Jang Ilsoβs laughter-tinged voice pierced the frozen Chung Myung with merciless cruelty.
βNoβ¦β
Red Dogs, another name for despair, were rushing in.
________
*μΈμ(ε€ε·) – physical injuries that are visible or affect the exterior of the body. It doesnβt mean βsuperficial,β it means itβs a flesh wound like a stab, a slash etc. On the other hand, in martial arts context, λ΄μ(ε §ε·) – internal injury – refers to the injuries to dantian(s) and the meridians. The longer a fight drags on, the more these internal injuries interfere with the flow of qi, worsening the damage within the body. So Jang Ilso isnβt saying that the wound is shallow, or not life threatening (he mentions he can bleed out basically so he should attack faster), he is saying this is just not as bad as having an injury to the qi circulatory system.
**Yeot taffy – traditional Korean confectionery.
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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