Who I was in the past and who he will become in the future. (2)
Jang Ilso belatedly realized he had instinctively flinched and stepped back.
‘What the…?’
Had he just felt fear against a wretch so battered that it was hard to find an uninjured spot on him?
‘What nonsense.’
Jang Ilso clenched his fists tightly.
There was not a single reason he should lose. He still had strength to spare. Chung Myung, on the other hand, was little more than a half-dead corpse.
Even if his opponent had been perfectly fine, Jang Ilso had no reason to be defeated. Letting the thought of losing cross his mind now was utterly absurd.
But then, why?
Why wouldn’t his feet move? Why was his heart pounding so violently? As if… as if he were facing something so enormous he couldn’t possibly withstand it.
Crack.
Jang Ilso ground his teeth.
Nothing had changed. That bastard’s energy had not suddenly exploded, nor had his wounds miraculously healed. Even if a martial god had descended into that ruined body, Chung Myung wouldn’t be capable of doing anything in such a wretched state.
No, more than anything, there was no other path left now. Only a single road lay before Jang Ilso.
Out of habit, he opened his mouth.
“…How scary. But bluffing like that won’t do you any good.”
Just as he was about to flash his usual sly smile, Chung Myung’s sword drooped downward. At the same time, Chung Myung slowly lowered his stance. It was a posture clearly indicating an intent to rush forward.
‘If you make your intentions this obvious, even if I wanted to let you hit me, I couldn’t possib…’
Whoosh.
But before Jang Ilso could even finish his thought, Chung Myung kicked off the ground. Naturally, Jang Ilso stretched out his hands towards the direction the man would fly in.
And at that moment, he saw it. No, perhaps he felt it through instinct rather than sight – the cold sensation of the blade pressed against his neck before his hands could fully extend.
Slash!
Jang Ilso’s eyes widened. A burning pain flared at his neck.
‘He cut me?’
Why? When? How on earth…?
By the time he registered the motion, Chung Myung had already slipped halfway into Jang Ilso’s reach, thrusting his sword forward.
In that instant Jang Ilso knew it: had he not twisted his neck on pure instinct, he would have died – from that single strike.
A chilling cold ran down his spine. Their gazes met in midair. Chung Myung’s eyes looked endlessly emotionless.
Jang Ilso reflexively swung his hand – no, tried to. But Chung Myung, pivoting half a turn within Jang Ilso’s grasp, drove his elbow into Jang Ilso’s side first.
Boooom!
The world flashed before Jang Ilso’s eyes.
Thud!
Only after feeling his face slam into the ground did his consciousness return from its brief absence.
There was no pain. He didn’t even have the luxury of feeling it. Realizing he was buried in the dirt, Jang Ilso struck the earth with his palm and sprang up.
He’s coming. He’s definitely coming. That bastard has to be right in front…
Flinch.
Yet all that greeted Jang Ilso’s eyes was empty air.
‘Behind!’
He spun his body fiercely. If he waited to see and block, it would be too late. Without even confirming, he unleashed Unyielding Blue Slaughtering Flames at full force, completely covering his rear.
Whoooooosh!
The blue flames roared, ready to overflow.
They surged fiercely towards Chung Myung, who was rushing at Jang Ilso’s back.
Jang Ilso’s judgment was flawless, so was his response. A brilliant move that turned a fatal lapse into an advantage in the blink of an eye.
Then, Chung Myung’s sword, pointed downward, moved.
Claaaang!
Chung Myung swung his blade at the blue flames. It was a reckless move, like trying to block a massive tidal wave with a mere stick.
Claaang!
And indeed, no miracle occurred. Chung Myung’s sword strike was swallowed whole by the torrent of blue flames, disappearing without a trace.
Without the slightest hesitation, Chung Myung swung his sword again.
Claaaang.
The second sword strike melted away once more.
Then a third, a fourth, again, and yet again.
An endless tide of sword strikes surged relentlessly towards the blue flames, striking again and again.
‘What is this….?’
Jang Ilso, for a moment, was spellbound by the sight. He could do nothing but watch.
Was time even flowing right now? His Blue Flame, which should have been surging forward at tremendous speed, felt as though it were standing still.
An instant. Literally, only a split second [찰나(刹那)].
Yet Chung Myung stretched that moment to infinity and wandered that world alone. His sword slashes carved through empty air, forming a massive pattern, akin to a mandala [만다라(曼荼羅)].
It was unmistakably a sword wall [검벽(劍壁)], but it was something beyond comparison with anything Jang Ilso had ever known. And all of it unfolded within that mere instant.
That wall of swords collided head-on with Jang Ilso’s Unyielding Blue Slaughtering Flames.
There was no sound. No, certainly a deafening roar must have erupted. But even before that sound reached him, the pure white sword blade, as if roaming a different time inside the endlessly slowed world, came flying in.
Jang Ilso threw his head back with all his might.
‘Please!’
To move his body in that excruciatingly slow time demanded a tremendous expenditure of mental strength.
But what drained him even more than moving his unbearably heavy body – more even than the imminent death swiftly approaching – was Cung Myung, whose emotionless gaze pierced him from behind that white sword blade, utterly devoid of the slightest emotion.
Paaat!
Time, which had seemed all but frozen, suddenly snapped back to normal.
Boooooooom!
The delayed thunderous blast struck his ears, and the sword aiming straight at his face plunged into Jang Ilso’s hand. More precisely, he had blocked the blade that should have pierced his face with his hand.
Kagagagagak!
The hand, brimming with inner strength, pushed back the blade that continued to dig deeper. The tip of the sword scraped harshly against the reinforced bones of his hand.
“Uaaaaaaaaargh!”
Jang Ilso let out a desperate scream and seized the sword that had burrowed into his hand. But before his fingers even reached the blade, the sword that had been driving forward withdrew abruptly as though it had never been there.
Jang Ilso’s hand closed on empty air.
And then he saw them: an overwhelming swarm of sword shadows filling his entire field of vision as they flew towards him.
‘Impossible……?’
His mind went blank, but his body moved on instinct. He kicked off the ground and retreated. Facing what unfolded before him head-on would have been absolutely foolish.
Yet, at the exact instant he stepped back, the surging sword shadows exploded simultaneously like fireworks. The entire area was suddenly engulfed by petals the color of blood.
For a moment, Jang Ilso was entranced.
The world seemed to have turned into a garden. Everything his eyes could perceive were plum blossoms – only plum blossoms.
Flowers bloomed on the scorched earth that Unyielding Blue Slaughtering Flames had swept and burned barren. As though life that had lain dormant were springing forth again, the blooming [개화(開花)] spread over the entire world.
‘Nonsense.’
Jang Ilso ground his teeth.
This was no romantic scene. Those blossoms were, plain and simple, the Grim Reaper’s [사신(死神)] blades – claws of a devil that would slice through all that exists.
Tension spread through his entire body, every nerve on edge. He had to block everything he could see. In this abyss where illusion and reality, truth and falsehood were interwoven until nothing could be trusted, he had to survive.
The beginning of all martial learning is, after all, observation [관(觀)].
Everything starts with grasping your opponent, with any sense you possess.
Jang Ilso poured his entire awareness into that observation. The instant his concentration pushed past its limits, the penetrating sight that had entered the realm of Contemplative Insight [관조(觀照)] captured every last sword energy blossoming before his eyes.
But at that very same moment.
“Uh…”
Jang Ilso’s fist, filled to the extreme with inner strength, halted abruptly.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Everything scattered before his eyes was emptiness [허(虛)], an illusion.
‘All of this…’
If none of this had substance, then nothing was protecting Chung Myung either. Had he truly entrusted his life to an illusion that could be shattered by a mere gesture, in a situation where life and death hung by a thread?
“What are you looking at?”
A voice came – once more from behind Jang Ilso.
Chung Myung, standing back to back with Jang Ilso, didn’t even bother to turn his gaze as he murmured quietly.
“Chasing after nothing at all, are you.”
“…”
“Much like the way you’ve lived your life.”
“Hwasan Geomhyeop!”
Enraged, Jang Ilso twisted his body around, swinging his palm towards Chung Myung’s side. Yet, before the energy gathered in his hand could even extend fully, Chung Myung kicked sharply into the back of Jang Ilso’s knee.
Crack!
As Jang Ilso’s knee buckled under the impact, Chung Myung drove a dozen sword shadows into his back.
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
“Gaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
The sword ripped through the Body-Protecting Qi [호신강기(護身罡氣) he had raised with all his strength and finally dug into flesh. As the shock of the sword’s energy hit him, blood welled up in his throat and poured from his mouth like a waterfall.
Even in that state, Jang Ilso twisted his body and hurled a fist towards Chung Myung. The blazing flames condensed into a single point, becoming a fearsome force that shot straight at his foe.
Claaaang!
But before the drawn fist could fully extend, the tip of Chung Myung’s sword sank directly into it.
Crunch.
At the same moment, Chung Myung’s sword multiplied into dozens of blades, coiling around Jang Ilso’s fist. Like cunning serpents, mocking tongues – or perhaps even gently, like a mother’s comforting touch.
The sword energy was not violent, yet it enveloped Jang Ilso’s fist completely.
A punch thrown at full power is like an unleashed torrent. It cannot be recalled or redirected. And when that path is blocked, the shock must turn back on its owner.
Boooooom!
The power of the Unyielding Blue Slaughtering Flames, with nowhere to go, exploded inside Jang Ilso’s fist. His large hand burst open, scattering blood in every direction.
Jang Ilso stared blankly at his hand. It was mangled, the bone visible through the torn flesh.
But before the pain could even reach him, Chung Myung drew a long slash across Jang Ilso’s thigh.
Slash.
Before Jang Ilso could so much as glance down at his thigh, the blade passed again, slicing his forearm.
Slash.
It was a speed beyond comprehension. The sword appeared faster than perception itself – closer to Swapping One’s Position [이형환위(移形換位)] wrought by the blade, discarding the act of swinging and leaving only the result of a cut.
The very realm every swordsman longs for even in dreams had manifested here.
“Uaaaaaah!”
Sensing instinctively that responding to this sword was impossible, Jang Ilso abandoned defense at once and charged at Chung Myung – a desperate strike meant to crush Chung Myung’s throat even if some part of him had to be cut.
But just then, a small hand entered Jang Ilso’s field of vision.
Grab.
“Stop running wild.”
Chung Myung’s hand seized Jang Ilso’s face and drove him straight into the ground.
“Brat.”
Boooooom!
From where Jang Ilso’s body struck, cracks spread across the earth like spiderwebs.
“Ku…. ugh…..”
Through Chung Myung’s fingers, Jang Ilso saw the cold eyes bearing down on him. In the fragment of the sky that remained in his vision, the black clouds parted, revealing the heavens behind them.
“Can you see it? This……”
Chung Myung twisted his lips, letting out a hollow scoff.
“This is the world of a hundred years ago.”
And the whole world was stained a gruesome shade of blood-red.
________
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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