Return of the Mount Hua

You can do it. (5)

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“Don’t let up!”

Un Am shouted at the top of his lungs as he watched the disciples fighting desperately.

His martial arts skill was not high, but he could easily judge which way the tide of victory was turning.

It was an undeniable fact that, with Jang Ilso’s death, their side had seized the momentum. The problem was that the very moment they gained that bit of leeway, people on their side also began to collapse from exhaustion.

‘No wonder.’

Willpower isn’t infinite. However long one endures on grit and resolve, even a single trigger was enough for the thread to snap, and for the body to sink down in defeat.

‘Which means… if the news of victory had reached us only a little later, the balance might have completely tipped against us.’

Cold sweat ran down Un Am’s back. Had that happened, half of these people would already no longer be among the living, and the rest would hardly have been unscathed. Once a balance starts to tip, it is all but impossible to set it right again.

‘The situation is still precarious.’

The battle had dragged on too long. The strain was crushing. Hwasan, which had fought at full strength to strike Jang Ilso, and the warriors of Cheonumaeng, who had been holding Jang Ilso back since before then, would by now find it hard even to keep their swords raised.

The lone piece of good news – that Jang Ilso had been brought down – was all that was holding their last scraps of spirit together.

‘At times like this…’

Someone has to hold on and keep them standing. Chung Myung had done so, and so had the Five Swords.

And Un Am knew who, here and now, could do that.

“Push harder! You must hold out!”

It was an order shouted at no one in particular. But anyone who heard the words would know they were meant for them. Even without looking, just a small nod in response was enough to confirm it.

‘That’s not an easy task.’

It was Un Geom. He let out a deep breath.

His whole body was covered in wounds. Shameful as it may be to admit, Un Geom was not used to battles that wrung him out to the very limit. There had not been many times in his life when he had fought with his life truly on the line, and most of his years had been spent devoted to cultivation in the quiet shade of Hwasan.

‘Devotion……’

Un Geom glanced at the empty sleeve on one side.

‘Has the time I devoted to this left anything in me?’

Perhaps it has. Yet one could say it has been lost as well. He still had not become completely accustomed to the feeling of holding a sword with his left hand.

If he claimed he felt no regret or emptiness, it would have been a lie. The stubborn thought that, had his right arm still remained, he could at least be doing better than this, refused to let him go.

Even so, Un Geom watched the enemies with an unwavering gaze. The amusing truth was that the greatest reason he could keep from wavering was not the disciples at his back.

Un Geom glanced sideways and, with a slightly curious look, opened his mouth.

“Are you all right?”

“…..Yes.”

The one who answered – Lee Songbaek – nodded with an utterly serious face.

The corner of Un Geom’s mouth twitched in an ambiguous manner. He couldn’t tell whether to laugh or to cry.

‘So this is what they mean when they say life is unpredictable.’

No matter how much Hwasan’s Baek and Chung generations might hate Jongnam, could it be as much as the Un generation does? The Un disciples had lived their whole lives under Jongnam’s oppression. That long-festering resentment was hard even to put into words.

For nearly a lifetime, Un Geom had harbored a rough, uneasy feeling towards Jongnam. And yet, who would have thought a day would come when he would stand side by side with a young disciple of Jongnam like this.

“Don’t overdo it. Your breathing seems awfully labored.”

“For now… for now I’m all right.”

“…..Is that so.”

He couldn’t deny it. Though the body was, at a glance, in rags, the light in Lee Songbaek’s eyes still burned brightly.

Hwasan had many excellent youngsters, but this one was different from even them. If Hwasan’s youth would burn with resolve even in the face of death, this man looked the sort who, even as he was being laid into a coffin, would still say he was ‘all right for now.’ That was the feeling.

Yes – solid, from the roots up. Separate from the state of his martial cultivation.

‘With someone like this here, how could I speak weakly?’

He could not show himself wavering before his disciples. And all the more so, how could he possibly reveal weakness before a disciple of Jongnam. Even if he felt as though he was on the verge of death.

Someone might scoff at this being just petty bravado. But to Un Geom, destined to be the head of Hwasan’s Martial Hall, it was a pride he could never cast aside.

Even in a situation like this, when he could not hide the trembling of the hand that gripped the sword.

At the same time, another question rose.

“Wouldn’t it have been better if it wasn’t here?”

“Yes? What do you mean…?”

“There must have been plenty of other places to fight.”

Un Geom cast a sidelong glance into the distance. There, Hye Yeon, Baek Cheon, and Yoon Jong were fighting hard to protect Chung Myung.

Wasn’t that where Lee Songbaek’s place should have been? The place where he could shine the most brilliantly. And the place most meaningful at the same time.

There was no need for him to come all the way to the outskirts of this battlefield and swing his sword alongside Hwasan.

Lee Songbaek seemed only then to understand Un Geom’s words, and his expression softened.

“Well. I don’t know either. When I came to my senses, I was here.”

“…”

“As you said, there’s no particular reason it has to be here… but there’s no reason it shouldn’t be here either, is there?”

At his calm reply, Un Geom let out a quiet laugh. Strangely enough, the old resentment he held towards Jongnam didn’t seem to touch this young man.

“Take it to heart when I tell you not to overdo it. You have a future. Wouldn’t it be too bitter to die here? Leave the dangerous tasks to me. Protecting the next generation is the duty of the one who came before.”

“…..Yes?”

But Lee Songbaek looked at Un Geom with a somewhat vacant expression.

“Why? Is it strange for Hwasan’s elder to speak of the future to a disciple of Jongnam?”

“No. It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“…Elder, you’re not yet of an age to be talking about the ‘previous generation’ either, are you?”

“What?”

“If you think about it, you’re in your prime now, aren’t you? In Jongnam that’s only natural…”

Hearing something he had never expected, Un Geom fell silent. After a moment, he let out a sigh that was almost a groan.

“…..That’s true as well.”

He had forgotten.

Thanks to those monstrous disciples, he’d been pushed to the back room in no time, but in an ordinary sect, someone of Un Geom’s years would be the backbone of the sect.

Lee Songbaek’s words made him recall that simple fact. Something he had forgotten… no, perhaps something he had been trying to forget.

At the same time, Un Geom realized something.

He understood that Lee Songbaek’s puzzled words carried, quite naturally, a sense of respect for Un Geom.

“…So Jongnam wasn’t made up of hopeless fellows alone.”

“Yes?”

“It’s a compliment.”

Un Geom let out a light laugh. It might have sounded strange, but somewhere in his chest, a small spark of competitive spirit flared up.

‘…It wasn’t just so I wouldn’t be a burden.’

He had thought the disciples would be too sad if he didn’t take up a sword, even if only with his left hand.

But was that really all?

Un Geom tightened his grip on the sword. Even if he had lost his right hand, even if it was now too late to become the sword master who commanded Gangho as he had once dreamed, and even if accepting his current level was the realistic thing to do…

“If I’d been the kind of a man who could be satisfied with that from the start, I wouldn’t have picked up a sword.”

The sword in Un Geom’s left hand moved.

The Left-Handed Sword [좌수검(左手劍)], deemed  ‘unorthodox’ [사도 – belonging to an evil/unorthodox path] simply because it was held in the left hand – so what of it? Even if the hand holding the sword were the right, it wouldn’t change the fact that the road he sought to walk was still impossibly long and perilous.

Papararara. 

From Un Geom’s left hand, a plum blossom bloomed.

Perhaps, in the place where everything might end, the sword that will begin it all.

It may not suit to call it ‘new,’ nor to call it ‘unchanged,’ yet it was a plum blossom that could be called decent enough.

Sparse petals bloomed at the tips of bare branches, leaving gaps here and there without ever bursting into full splendor.

But it was all right.

“Hyaaaaaap!”

For behind his blade came a sword of perfection, one that could fill every gap under heaven.

Hwasan’s radiant sword flourished alongside Jongnam’s solid and steadfast one. The members of Sapaeryeon, their faces gone ashen, fell back and back again, but the two men’s swords chased them down without remorse and cut off their breath.

Shhk! Shhk! Shhk!

“Aaaaaaaagh!”

Desperate screams filled the air.

“W-What are you doing! If you fall back, we’ll all die! Strike! Kill them all!”

The members of Sapaeryeon, driven mad with rage, clenched their teeth and charged forward again. Blocking their path, Un Geom spoke with a bitter expression.

“Perhaps… in the next generation after mine, there may come a world where Jongnam and Hwasan stand together.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

Beside him, Lee Songbaek answered softly, giving him a puzzled glance.

“I don’t think we need to wait until then.”

“…”

It was at that very moment.

“Th-There!”

One of Hwasan’s disciples shouted loudly.

“Sasuk! Sasuk! Look over there! Reinforcements!”

“Hm?”

Un Geom and Un Am turned their gazes to the same place at once. Beyond the horizon, a troop of warriors was charging in at a fearsome speed.

White as clouds blooming in the sky that was the earth itself…

“Jongnam! It’s Jongnam!”

“Dammit! Who’d have thought the day would come when those bastards would be a welcome sight!”

“Hey, you bastards! What were you doing, showing up now?! Why didn’t you just wait till we were all dead!”

Hwasan’s disciples roared with cheers. On their faces as they watched the disciples of Jongnam rushing in, there was only relief and joy.

“Heh…….”

Un Geom let out a hollow laugh.

Given the circumstances, perhaps, but he’d never dreamed there would come a day when Hwasan’s disciples welcomed Jongnam so fiercely. What was more disconcerting was the undeniable wave of relief spreading through Un Geom’s own heart.

Seeing the familiar face leading Jongnam at the front, Un Geom finally shook his head. How could a face so familiar, and usually so irritating to look at, could now seem so unspeakably welcome?

In Un Geom’s ear, Lee Songbaek’s calm voice sounded.

“You can’t erase the sins you’ve committed.”

“…”

“But I think leaving everything to time just because there are sins to atone for is, rather, irresponsible. If there is something that must be done, it must be done now.”

With his lips pressed tight, Un Geom was turning over Lee Songbaek’s words in his mind. Lee Songbaek continued.

“If we can do that… won’t the day you spoke of come a little sooner, Elder?”

Un Geom’s firm mouth twitched, if only slightly.

In truth, these were the rash words of a young disciple who did not know the past. The humiliations Hwasan had suffered at Jongnam’s hands were not the sort of thing that could be healed by such efforts alone.

Yes. That was certainly true. And yet…

“Perhaps… it might be so.”

Muttering with a somewhat complicated expression, Un Geom could not deny that, in any case, that was the better path.

People move forward bearing their wounds. And perhaps the same could be said of sects as well.

“Support the Alliance and Hwasan! Do not leave a single dog of Sapaeryeon alive!”

Jin Geumryong’s great roar split the earth. A bold, resonant voice, proclaiming the end of the long war.

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