Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1089

A shocked silence filled the room. “Ten times?” someone finally whispered.

The Five Swords’ faces tightened, their hands gripping their sword hilts. Baek Cheon’s breath hitched, his eyes wide with dismay as he stared at Chung Myung.

Baek Cheon’s thoughts raced. ‘But…’

The Demonic Sect members they’d faced had already endangered the elites of the Myriad Man House and the Black Ghost Squad. What if Danjagan hadn’t held back, but instead waited leisurely before stepping forward?

Perhaps everyone who entered Hangzhou would have been buried there.

‘And ten times that force?’ The thought was truly absurd.

Hyun Jong, usually a composed leader, shook his head repeatedly, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

“It’s beyond what I imagined. To be honest, it’s hard to believe.”

His voice showed his confusion and frustration, and everyone felt it.

“Of course, the Demonic Sect… once drove the martial world (Kangho) to the brink of destruction. But a full century has passed since then…”

“Exactly. And that’s why it’s probably ten times the force. If it was less, it wouldn’t just be ten times,” Chung Myung replied calmly.

Hyun Jong still looked doubtful. However, Chung Myung’s eyes didn’t waver. Seeing that confident look, Hyun Jong had no choice but to believe him. Whenever Chung Myung had that expression, he always had a reason.

“Can you explain the reason a little?” Hyun Jong asked.

“It’s simple. It’s because of the Bishop,” Chung Myung said.

“Bishop?” Hyun Jong questioned.

“Yes.”

Chung Myung nodded and continued, “The Bishop we faced was young. That means the Demonic Sect, driven out of the Central Plains, is expanding its followers and creating new forces.”

Chung Myung glanced at those nearby.

“And that means there could be many more like that young Bishop in the Demonic Sect right now.”

Silence fell, thick and heavy like a shroud. Lim Sobyeong, who had been idly fanning himself, stopped, his fan still pressed against his cheek, a sudden stillness in his movements.

“No, wait a moment, Chung Myung,” Lim Sobyeong said.

His brow was furrowed.

“Of course, it’s possible. We’ve only seen two Bishops, after all. There could be others. But to simply estimate it like that…”

“The Demonic Sect has seventeen dioceses,” Chung Myung stated.

Lim Sobyeong shut his mouth tightly.

He had heard this before. In the past, Chanma led the Demonic Sect, which consisted of seventeen dioceses, and invaded the Central Plains.

“And each diocese is controlled by a Bishop. In other words, a proper Demonic Sect has seventeen Bishops.”

“Seventeen…” Baek Cheon whispered.

Baek Cheon felt goosebumps crawl down his spine.

The image of Danjagan spewing out demonic energy like a storm flashed through his mind—a figure of terror. That terrifying presence overwhelmed even the powerful Man Geumdaebu, Jang Ilso, and even Chung Myung.

‘Seventeen of those guys…?’

The tips of his fingers trembled.

In the suffocating silence, Chung Myung’s eyes darkened.

Generally, the number of Bishops is known to be around ten. But that’s because the Demonic Sect also failed to replace the Bishops who died in the war, so only the approximate number is known.

If the Demonic Sect has proper forces, the number of Bishops is seventeen. No, even those who do not lead a diocese but serve only Cheonma, those who hold the most glorious position for them, are also called Bishops, so it must be more than that.

“Hmm. But, Sword Saint Chung Myung,” Tang Gunak said, his face stiff, as if he had objections.

“The current Demonic Sect is different from the Demonic Sect of the past. Weren’t they driven out of the Central Plains? It’s hard to say they’ve regained their strength…”

“Then what about before that?” Chung Myung asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Was the Demonic Sect in the Central Plains before that?”

Tang Gunak closed his mouth. It was obvious, but he had never thought about it until now.

Chung Myung said, as if to say, ‘See?’

“The previous Demonic Sect also built up its strength outside the Central Plains. Yet, they perfectly gathered around Cheonma and invaded. What guarantees this time will be different?”

“No, there isn’t,” Tang Gunak admitted.

Chung Myung nodded. “The bastards are building up their strength to invade again. They must be putting all their efforts into raising proper Bishops. A single Bishop has more power than a thousand followers.”

In Kangho, securing one master is more important than increasing numbers.

“And they had a hundred years,” Chung Myung said, a chill entering his voice, his eyes turning cold, like ice reflecting a winter sky.

“While the Central Plains forgot the past and indulged in peace, they licked their wounds and waited to take revenge. For a full hundred years.”

“But is that newly raised Bishop really the only one? Seriously?”

Tang Gunak sighed deeply.

Raising a master is never easy. No matter how much effort, success is cultivating one person in a generation.

But what if they had a hundred years?

If those defeated in the Central Plains poured all their efforts into nurturing descendants from that moment until now? If the Demonic Sect, which drove the entire Central Plains to the brink of destruction, has been biding its time for a hundred years?

‘I can’t say it’s impossible.’

Tang Gunak, understanding, looked at Chung Myung, his face stiff.

“Then you… do you think the Demonic Sect has completely regained its strength?”

“To be honest…” Chung Myung paused, then continued, “In numbers, I don’t think it will reach the past. The number of Bishops will be around ten at most. That’s optimistic.”

Everyone nodded.

Ten people like Danjagan is chilling, but more realistic than seventeen.

“The problem is the quality of the Bishops,” Chung Myung said.

“Hmm?”

“The Bishops who survived when Cheonma died are still in the Demonic Sect. Do you know what that means?”

“The Bishops from that time are still alive? Then how old are they?” Undeniable shock bloomed in Tang Gunak’s eyes.

“That’s not important. What’s important is those bastards have become stronger than in the past.”

Originally, the body deteriorates with age.

Even martial artists, no matter how skilled, cannot escape aging. But internal energy accumulates. If the powerful figures who drove Kangho to the brink of destruction have trained for a hundred years, no one can guess their level.

“That young Bishop called him Lee Bishop,” Chung Myung said.

“That means there’s a Grand Bishop above him. So, at least two Bishops have survived from the past?”

“That’s right. Minimally,” Chung Myung said, biting his lip slightly.

“The total power of the Bishops, including those from the past, has become stronger just by their existence.”

Silence descended, heavy and absolute. Chung Myung saw the understanding in their eyes, the weight of his words sinking in.

Who would have imagined anyone surviving that long?

Dang Jo-pyeong, a child when Chung Myung died, is now the greatest elder of the Dang family with little time left.

But the Bishops, not young then, are still alive…

Of course, it’s not impossible. Chung Myung saw the Bishop of the North Sea, a survivor, himself.

But this is different. The Bishop of the North Sea was a fledgling, clumsily inserted to fill the Bishop’s vacancy. Normally, he couldn’t call himself a Bishop, considering his age or prowess.

But…

‘Cheonsal.’

That bastard is too different.

He was notorious even among the terrifying Bishops of the past. Such a bastard is still alive. And hasn’t risen to Grand Bishop.

The meaning of that fact was too great.

“I can say with certainty,” Chung Myung stated.

Everyone looked at Chung Myung, tense.

“If the Demonic Sect invades the Central Plains again, their power will never be less than in the past.”

His tongue felt numb. Even Chung Myung struggled to say it. He wouldn’t have dared say it before.

An appropriate enemy drives competitiveness, but an overwhelming enemy diminishes motivation.

Chung Myung avoided mentioning the Demonic Sect not just to hide his identity. They weren’t ready to accept their existence.

But now, he can’t avoid it.

Having seen it and felt it, convinced their rise is near, they must know the truth.

How huge and strong the enemy is.

‘If there is hope…’

Just then…

“There’s something I want to confirm,” Baek Cheon said, cutting through the heavy air.

He met Chung Myung’s eyes, bit his lip, and spoke.

“According to you, wasn’t more than half the Demonic Sect’s power due to Cheonma?”

“That’s probably right,” Chung Myung admitted.

Baek Cheon frowned. “Then your statement that the Demonic Sect will be as strong as in the past is possible only if Cheonma returns with the same power, right?”

Chung Myung slowly nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you sure that if Cheonma is resurrected, he will be resurrected with the same power? Resurrection itself is absurd, but to be resurrected with that power intact is even stranger.”

Everyone nodded, realizing Baek Cheon’s point.

Cheonma was most important, but they missed it, not knowing much about him.

But Chung Myung’s answer differed.

“I don’t know,” Chung Myung said.

“What?”

“I don’t know either.”

Chung Myung said firmly, his face cold. “I don’t know how that bastard will be resurrected. So, I can’t predict it. Whether it takes time to regain that power, or whether he becomes worthy of the name ‘Cheonma’ immediately.”

“There’s only one certainty. No matter how he is resurrected, if that bastard is given time, the result will be the same.”

Sword Saint of Mount Hua, Chung Myung. Plum Blossom Sword Saint, Chung Myung.

From his mouth, who has lived two lives, came words like fate.

“If we can’t stop Cheonma and the Demonic Sect, what we saw in Hangzhou will be reproduced throughout the Central Plains. Maybe beyond, throughout the world…”

Perhaps a prophecy. At the same time, a curse.

“Destruction will come,” Chung Myung said.