“Ugh….” Jo Gul groaned, the sound heavy with exhaustion.
As soon as the last figures of the Four Seas Alliance vanished over the dusty horizon, a sigh of relief rushed from Jo Gul’s lips, like air escaping a punctured balloon. It was as if this sigh was a signal. One by one, the other Mount Hua disciples crumpled where they stood, their legs suddenly refusing to hold them any longer. The ground seemed to rush up to meet them.
Baek Cheon stared at the horizon, his eyes empty, like a puppet with its strings cut. He spoke in a voice devoid of any strength.
“…Are they gone?”
“I think they’re gone?”
“They’re not coming back, are they?”
“Don’t say that, Martial Uncle, you might make it happen!”
Baek Cheon shook his head, exhaustion weighing him down, looking utterly drained.
“…I really thought I was going to die.”
They had faced many crises before, but this felt like the first time they had been so scared. Dealing with the Demonic Sect was enough to make their hearts race, but they also had to face Jang Il-so and the Black Cloud Corps.
Yoon Jong mumbled, sprawled out on the ground.
“Feels like I’ve lost a year of my life….”
“I’ve lost three.”
“This humble monk has lost five….”
The disciples shook their heads, faces pale and drawn, each movement heavy with exhaustion. But even then, they couldn’t relax. The thought that the Four Seas Alliance might change their minds and return nagged at them.
‘Jang Il-so.’
Baek Cheon gazed across the empty land towards the horizon. This war, for them, had begun with the Bishop and ended with Jang Il-so. The brutal martial power of Danja Gang was overshadowed by Jang Il-so in the end.
‘And… that Bishop.’
Baek Cheon bit his lip. The thought of the one who had pierced Danja Gang’s heart sent shivers down his spine.
‘Are there so many monsters in this world?’
He understood why the Jianghu was called a very dangerous and unpredictable place. There were three monsters who could each turn the Jianghu upside down, and they had faced all three at once. It was hard to tell if this was a blessing or a curse.
‘No… not three.’
Baek Cheon turned his head.
‘Four.’
He saw Chung Myung standing there, his face blank.
‘When you think about it, this guy is the real deal.’
Jang Il-so had brought the Black Cloud Corps and Hong Gyeon, and the Bishops had brought the Demonic Sect disciples. But Chung Myung had only brought a little over ten people, and he had shaken up a scene where monsters were fighting and destroying everything.
‘How would I feel if I saw this guy as an enemy?’
Perhaps those who faced Chung Myung felt even greater fear than he felt when he saw the Bishop or the pressure he felt when he saw Jang Il-so.
Every time, Baek Cheon remembered again. He was so used to it, he often forgot. Chung Myung was truly amazing.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chung Myung asked.
Baek Cheon hesitated.
“Are you… are you really okay?” he asked, hesitant.
Chung Myung chuckled weakly. “Worrying for nothing, as usual.”
“No, it’s not that,” Baek Cheon frowned. “I just… something feels a little off.”
Just as Baek Cheon was about to ask what he meant, a sudden rush of bright red blood bubbled from Chung Myung’s nose and mouth, staining his face and the ground. Baek Cheon’s eyes widened.
“You… You, you… N-no, you, what’s wrong with you?”
“Huh?”
Chung Myung reached up and wiped his face, his expression bewildered as he looked at the blood on his palm.
“…Huh?”
“Y-you circulated your energy! You idiot! You circulated your energy, so why are you like this?”
“…No. I was too busy regaining my inner strength…. I couldn’t do even a little bit of healing….”
“What?”
Seeing the blood drain from Chung Myung’s face, the Mount Hua disciples jumped up in alarm.
“No, it’s alright. This much is nothing… Huh? Why am I dizzy….”
“S-Soso! Soso-yaaaa! That idiot’s dying!” Jo Gul screamed as he watched Chung Myung fall backward, seemingly losing consciousness.
“Hey, you crazy human!” Tang Soso yelled, already running towards Chung Myung, her eyes blazing.
Emptiness lingered in Chung Myung’s eyes as he lay on his back, staring at the sky. His lips moved slightly.
“Hey….”
Plop!
“Guh….”
Chung Myung, with a large needle stuck in the middle of his upper lip, rolled his eyes back and trembled.
“W-why are you sticking a needle in his lip?! That has nothing to do with healing!”
“It’s a lip treatment technique I developed. Senior Brother’s biggest problem is his mouth.”
“No!”
Plop!
Before Chung Myung could say anything, a large needle pierced the center of his forehead.
“…Keep talking. Keep going.”
A chilling aura, colder than a blizzard from hell, radiated from Tang Soso, each needle in her hand a tiny icicle of fury.
Chung Myung quietly shut his mouth. He did have a sense of self-preservation, especially at times like this.
“No, this crazy human, I gave you time to circulate your energy, and what? You didn’t heal yourself? Do you really want to die that badly, you idiot?”
“Soso-ya…. Still, he’s your Senior Brother….”
“What?”
“…There’s one spot on his crown that’s empty for a needle.”
“Yes.”
Plop!
The moment the large needle pierced the crown of his head, Chung Myung convulsed like a fish caught on a hook. His tearful eyes glared at Baek Cheon with resentment. Baek Cheon avoided his gaze, feeling guilty.
‘I’m sorry.’
But it was wise to avoid the storm.
“But, Martial Uncle.” Jo Gul asked, looking dumbfounded.
“Yeah?”
“Usually, can you… divide circulating energy into recovering inner strength and healing the body?”
“Usually, you can’t, right?”
A complex mix of emotions appeared on Jo Gul’s face. He looked at Chung Myung. To use that amazing talent in such a way was also a talent.
Un Geom stared intently at Chung Myung, who was trembling with needles stuck all over his body like a hedgehog, and asked Tang Soso.
“How is he?”
“A mess,” Tang Soso said bluntly, then sighed deeply.
“He’s such an inhuman human that he’ll probably recover, but if he had fought any longer, he really would have died. Seriously, does he even have a brain….”
“If I hadn’t done that, not only would I have died, but everyone here would have….”
Un Geom couldn’t bear to watch and squeezed his eyes shut as the large needle flew towards Chung Myung’s mouth like a ray of light.
Plop.
“Kkeueuk….”
If he just kept his mouth shut, one less needle would be stuck in him, but was that so difficult?
A sigh escaped from Un Geom’s lips.
‘It’s not that I don’t understand.’
Tang Soso was scolding Chung Myung for being reckless, but she probably knew that if Chung Myung had finished circulating his energy even a little later, the situation could have changed. It was impossible to recover both inner strength and the body at the same time in that short period. Chung Myung had no other choice.
Tang Soso was angry because of the helplessness and self-reproach she felt for pushing Chung Myung so hard, just like Un Geom was feeling now.
“No. I save you, and you still complain! Do you think there would have been a way if I hadn’t done that? Seriously, these days… Kkeueueuk!”
Yoo Iseol, who had been squatting next to Chung Myung’s head, pressed one of the large needles stuck in Chung Myung’s forehead with her fingertip.
“Sago. I understand how you feel, but if you stick it in too deep, Senior Brother will really die.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
Tang Soso glanced at Yoo Iseol’s expressionless face and quietly lowered her eyes.
“…I’ve put out the immediate fire.”
“What do I have to do to start another fire?”
“…I’ll still let you live.”
“Hmm.”
Yoo Iseol stared down at Chung Myung as if she didn’t like him very much. Even Chung Myung had to avoid her gaze.
“That crazy idiot, really,” Baek Cheon muttered, shaking his head.
“Soso-ya.”
“Yes, Martial Uncle.”
“So, when will the treatment be finished?”
“It’s impossible to fully recover here. It’s just enough to keep him breathing. That’s already done.”
“Huh? Then why are you still sticking needles in him?”
“Should I take them out?”
Baek Cheon hesitated, then nodded heavily. “Let’s leave them in a little longer.”
“Yes.”
Im Sobyung, who had been listening to the Mount Hua disciples’ conversation, which was as cold as a winter wind, shivered.
“…The ventilation is going to be tearfully good.”
Seeing his clothes, which had been pierced with hundreds of holes, Chung Myung distorted his face. Then Tang Soso grabbed the large needles she had collected again.
“Why? Are you cold? Should I close those holes again?”
“…D-did I say something? I didn’t say anything.” Chung Myung slowly backed away from Tang Soso. She was scarier than the Bishop at times like this.
“Seriously,” Tang Soso gritted her teeth, the sound chilling. Im Sobyung smiled bitterly.
‘Should I say I owe him one?’
Even if Chung Myung hadn’t pushed himself so hard, Jang Il-so would have let him live. Chung Myung was too valuable to Jang Il-so to die. But Im Sobyung knew that Jang Il-so only needed Chung Myung. He didn’t care about the other Mount Hua disciples. It might have been better to kill them.
‘There’s no need to even think about my case.’
If he were Jang Il-so, he would have killed only Im Sobyung. By any means possible.
Knowing this, Chung Myung had risked circulating his energy in the middle of the battlefield to regain the strength that would be a threat to Jang Il-so.
‘The result….’
He had prevented any casualties in this brutal battle. It was ridiculous.
Im Sobyung had thought that Mount Hua’s lack of casualties was just luck. Considering the battles they had been through, it would be strange if there were no casualties.
But after this battle, he knew for sure.
‘It wasn’t luck.’
Luck is unintentional. A leader’s thorough preparation is not luck.
Im Sobyung knew how difficult it was to eliminate sacrifices in the Jianghu, because he also led a group.
But Chung Myung was doing things he couldn’t imagine.
Preparing, pushing forward, and taking life-threatening risks.
Im Sobyung couldn’t imagine how much Chung Myung had worried to bring the Mount Hua sect this far.
‘He’s truly amazing.’
Im Sobyung looked at Chung Myung with new eyes. Chung Myung’s back, standing tall on the empty land, felt incredibly large.