Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1083

The Requiem was simple. A few plain mats were laid on the dusty ground. The air smelled faintly of incense, even though there wasn’t much. The wind whispered through the ruined buildings around them.

They didn’t have all the proper things for a big ceremony. They couldn’t even get the most basic incense or a burner.

But the Hwasan disciples were very respectful. They said the memorial words and chanted the Taoist prayers.

In the end, rituals are just polite actions for those who have died. It doesn’t matter how fancy the ritual is. What matters is a sincere bow.

The disciples of Hwasan knew this well. So, they put their hearts into every move and every word. They wished that those who died here would find peace, even in death.

It’s important to remember something: they were Taoists first, before they were fighters. Being a Taoist means following a path of goodness and balance.

But even the Hwasan disciples sometimes forgot what kind of people they were. This place was not only to honor the spirits of those who died. It was also to remember their purpose.

Chung Myung stood at the back, watching. His eyes moved from face to face – Tang Soso, Baek Cheon, all of them. As they chanted the prayers, a strange feeling stirred in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘Sasuk.’

Hwasan used to have Taoist ceremonies often. Chung Myung tried to avoid the boring rituals. But Cheong Mun would always grab him and make him stand in a corner.

– You are a Taoist before you are a swordsman.

– A sword without goodness is just a weapon for bad people. Especially because it’s you, Chung Myung, you must remember your duty as a Taoist.

– You talk about following the Tao, but being kind is the most important thing. If you aren’t kind, you must learn it by watching others. That’s the first thing you must learn as a disciple of Hwasan.

“⋯⋯Always nagging.”

Yes, that was it. He thought so in the past. He wondered what the point was of the same boring ceremonies every time.

Once people die, that’s it. What good is respect for those in the ground? What good are tears for them?

‘That’s how it was.’

Chung Myung slowly opened his eyes.

The Chung Myung from before couldn’t understand. He didn’t come to Hwasan to learn the Tao. He had been left there.

He grew up hearing Taoist prayers like lullabies. He watched the ceremonies like they were games. So, all of this felt normal to him. He never thought about what it really meant.

So, he didn’t know.

Why people missed those who were gone and honored their spirits.

Those who had nothing to begin with couldn’t lose anything.

‘Sasuk, I⋯⋯.’

What he lost was not something he had from the start. It was something he made while living. No… Even though he didn’t want it, it stayed with him as if it belonged there.

That’s why he learned. Only after losing it.

That there was meaning even for the dead who couldn’t come back. And what the people left behind felt when they visited the Taoist temple.

And here, there are those who understand that meaning. Those who know what the old Chung Myung didn’t know. Those who try to protect what he couldn’t protect.

The voices of the young Hwasan disciples rose in prayer, echoing across the empty, broken land. Their chanting was filled with respect and sadness.

Un Geom, with only one hand, carefully placed it over his heart and bowed deeply. His shoulders shook slightly with each breath, showing the sorrow he felt.

As he began to say the Taoist prayers again, the disciples of Hwasan followed. Chung Myung, who was standing at the very back, slowly closed his eyes. The Taoist prayers came from his lips.

It wasn’t a special sight. But those who knew Chung Myung would not think of it that way.

Chung Myung had been to many Requiem ceremonies. But he had never said the Taoist prayers himself. He had heard them so many times he could say them with his eyes closed. But he had never done it.

He was embarrassed and didn’t feel comfortable. And he didn’t think it was right for him.

But now, Chung Myung was saying the Taoist prayers with all his heart. Not just as words he knew, but with a heart that wished and wished again.

This was a blessing for the dead and comfort for those still living.

And maybe it was a hand reaching out to someone who couldn’t stay anywhere.

Un Geom finished saying all the Taoist prayers and stepped back. Then, Hae Yeon, who had been waiting, carefully stepped forward. He put his palms together and slowly began to chant the Buddhist prayers.

They believe in different things. They want different things. But now, their hearts were the same.

While Hae Yeon’s clear Buddhist chanting spread, the disciples of Hwasan stood still and watched his back. Tears welled in some of their eyes as they looked at the broken city of Hyangju. Their faces were pale and tight with sadness.

Baek Cheon lightly clenched his fist. He didn’t want the emotions in his chest to go away. And he didn’t want to forget.

Jo Gul, Yoon Jong, Yu Yiseol, and Tang Soso also looked the same.

Finally, Hae Yeon finished his long prayer. Hae Yeon put his palms together and bowed his head. With a sad face, he turned and stood next to the Hwasan disciples again.

Baek Cheon looked at Un Geom. Un Geom smiled gently. As if to say that he had done all he could.

Baek Cheon sighed deeply.

‘I⋯⋯.’

His fist clenched tightly.

‘I couldn’t save anyone.’

When they came here, they wanted to stop the Demonic Sect. And to save those who were still alive. But they started to only focus on staying alive.

They lived, and they were happy. They felt relieved.

But now he knew that it shouldn’t have been that way.

Because what they didn’t protect was too important to be happy with just being safe.

He was about to step forward, but he stopped. Now wasn’t the time to tell them what to do. It was time to stand with them and speak.

Baek Cheon spoke in a calm voice.

“⋯⋯If Sect Leader were here⋯⋯ he would have cried for those who died before anyone else.”

The disciples of Hwasan lowered their heads.

“If the elders were here, they would not have forgotten those who died while fighting the enemies.”

His voice was calm, but a little sad.

“We couldn’t do it because… because we weren’t strong enough. Not just in fighting, but… in ourselves.”

The regret filled the space where pride, relief, and childishness had been.

“It’s not just about being strong fighters. It’s… it’s about being strong people. We say we’re Taoists, but are we really living by it? We say we care, but did we really see the people who needed help?”

Everyone slowly nodded at the painful words.

“The strength that Sect Leader wants from us is⋯⋯ not the fighting power to beat the enemy. It’s the strength to look back at those who are weaker than us even when we are in danger⋯⋯. Yes.”

Baek Cheon’s voice was slow but firm.

“Maybe it’s the strength to be a good person.”

He paused and closed his eyes.

He fought his best and beat the enemy. But his heart felt empty because there was something that strength alone couldn’t fill.

“We will have to go through many things in the future.”

Smoke still rose from the ruins of Hangzhou. Everywhere they looked, buildings were broken, and dust covered everything. This was what was left after the battle. The air smelled of smoke and ash.

“Next time…” Cheong-myeong’s voice was rough, like he was trying not to cry. “Yes, next time, let’s never forget. What we fight for. Why we must fight.”

Un-Geom lowered his head and began to chant the Doho. The Doho was a prayer for hope, a wish for things to be better. As if it were a signal, the disciples of Mount Hua, at the same time, poured their inner strength into the chant, so it spread across the destroyed city.

Together with them, Hye-yeon also loudly chanted the Bulho. The Bulho was a prayer for help, a plea for someone to save them.

These chants were like cries for help. They were also like small lights, to remind people of what is important, even when they forget.

The sound of their chants was loud, but their heads were bowed down, heavier than before.

Silence fell.

They had won the battle, but looking around at the destruction, victory felt hollow. It was like holding ashes in their hands, not treasure. They saw how terrible this disaster really was. It was worse than any war.

Then, Cheong-myeong’s quiet voice reached them.

“…Let’s go back.”

“Yeah…” Baek Cheon said softly. “Go back? Are we really just leaving?”

Everyone slowly turned to leave. It was a place they had wanted to run away from just moments ago, but now, their feet felt heavy. Maybe they stayed because they couldn’t leave behind what they had lost.

“Next time…” Cheong-myeong said again, his voice filled with regret. He looked down at his hands, covered in dust, and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. He finally turned away from the ruins.

“Next time, we just have to protect it.”

“…Yeah,” Baek Cheon replied, his voice empty. “We have to.”

He tried to smile and patted his junior brothers and sisters on the shoulders, trying to push away the heavy feeling in his heart.

‘Huh?’

For a moment, his brow furrowed slightly. Even as everyone was turning around, he saw Yoo-iseol stop and stare. Her eyes widened, and her hand went to her sword hilt, ready for danger. She was looking ahead, right to the end of the ruins.

‘An enemy?’

Startled, Baek Cheon quickly turned his head.

But there was nothing. All that was visible was the city, still destroyed and empty…

“Huh?”

“W-what?”

Surprised voices came from the Mount Hua disciples. They quickly closed their mouths, holding their breath, their faces stiff.

That moment.

“Ah…!”

Everyone heard it.

A faint voice, like a sound from nowhere, but very clear.

Before they could even think, they were running. They ran as fast as they could.

And Cheong-myeong ran ahead, even faster, looking desperate. He started digging wildly through the broken pieces of the building. So-i, covered in wounds, was shaking.

The other disciples rushed in and started digging with their bare hands, too.

They were digging towards a faint sound of breathing. Towards a small warmth they had just found, even though it had been there all along.

“Ugh! Ugh…”

Cheong-myeong groaned quietly as he worked quickly. His hands, which had been digging roughly, now became more and more careful.

Finally, Cheong-myeong’s hand stopped completely.

“…Help…”

The faint sound, which could have been lost in the wind, finally became clear.

“Help… me…”

Crack!

The rubble of the building held in Cheong-myeong’s hand crumbled. He began to turn the rubble into dust with his inner strength, careful not to hurt anyone trapped.

He did this again and again.

Finally, as gently as he could, he uncovered a person under the rubble.

No, not just one person.

“Here, over here!”

“A baby too… There’s a baby! A baby!”

A woman, covered in dust and half-conscious, and a small child in her arms were there.

The woman was exhausted and could hardly open her eyes, but she kept speaking in a weak voice.

“…Help… me…”

“…My… baby…”

Everyone was silent.

Cheong-myeong reached into the rubble with a shaking hand. He carefully felt for the woman’s pulse and sent his energy into her. He did the same for the child.

“They’re alive…”

Everyone saw Cheong-myeong’s shoulders slump. This strong man, who had been fighting so hard, now lowered his head when he saw the two survivors.

“They’re… alive…”

Baek Cheon stared at Cheong-myeong, who had his head down. He looked at the woman, still unconscious, and the baby sleeping in her arms. Baek Cheon bit his lip hard and looked up at the sky.

They must have stayed silent, terrified that the sounds of battle would harm the child. They must have blocked their mouths and stayed quiet in the dark, to stop themselves from screaming.

This woman found strength, not from great battles or powerful plans. It wasn’t the fight against evil groups or clever tricks that saved her.

It was just the sound of their prayers, the Doho and Bulho, full of sadness and hope. It was just their simple wishes, not any great power, that reached her.

And so, the woman who was hurt and afraid heard their prayers.

In the end, what saved them wasn’t power, but something they almost lost: their kindness and hope.

Tears filled Baek Cheon’s eyes.

The blue sky was a cold, bright blue, making their eyes hurt.