Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 130

“It looks like they’re going to fight!”

“Oh my goodness! It’s Mount Hua against Wudang!”

Those watching the scene from behind the collapsed wall swallowed hard.

“This is dangerous. Shouldn’t we move back?”

“Where else are you going to see something like this! This is the most exciting thing to ever happen in Nanyang! I’ll watch this even if it kills me!”

“That’s true, but…”

Worry and excitement mixed together. But no one moved back.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Especially in Nanyang, a usually quiet town where nothing exciting ever happened. Most people were focused on Wudang, but quite a few were also cheering for Mount Hua.

In other places, many wouldn’t have heard of Mount Hua. But this was Nanyang, where Hwayoung Gate had lasted for a century.

Hwayoung Gate was deeply rooted in Nanyang, like part of the town itself. They proudly declared that they were Mount Hua’s ‘Sogga’. In the martial world, sects often created smaller branches called ‘Sogga’ to spread their influence. Because of this, the people of Nanyang liked Mount Hua.

This is why martial sects created Sogga and tried to establish them throughout the world.

There were limits to what the main sects, located deep in the mountains like Mount Hua or Wudang, could do. But if their disciples spread out, claiming to be Sogga and establishing martial halls, their influence would reach every corner of the land.

“Can Mount Hua win?”

“Well, it’s still Wudang!”

“Why? I heard Mount Hua embarrassed Jongnam once before.”

“Are Jongnam and Wudang the same? It’s Wudang, Wudang!”

“Shhh! Quiet!”

Hearing the murmuring voices, Jo Gul took a deep breath.

Before him stood the Wudang disciples, wearing black robes.

‘Can I do this?’

The old Jo Gul couldn’t have answered for sure. He had been training in Mount Hua’s martial arts for a while, but he had never really trusted himself as a martial artist.

But now?

‘It would be a bigger problem if I couldn’t win.’

He was sure of one thing.

Most of those who held swords had been trying to get better over the past two years.

But none of them had trained as hard as Mount Hua’s second and third-generation disciples.

‘It was terrifying.’

Asura was behind him.

The worst thing about Chung Myung was that he had so many faces.

One moment, he was an Asura himself. Another moment, he talked about swordsmanship like a wise priest. Then, he became a sage who knew everything, only to suddenly turn into a complete fool.

Chung Myung used all these sides of himself to push them to their limits.

Shiver.

Just thinking about the past two years made his body shake. Jo Gul had thought he could handle any hardship to become stronger. But by the time the Hwajong Tournament ended and two months had passed, he had forgotten that promise.

Destroying everything he knew and learning it all again was not easy at all. He only did it because Chung Myung pushed him without stopping, until he was foaming at the mouth.

All that time was now part of Jo Gul’s body and his sword.

He quietly looked up at the Wudang swordsman.

‘Confidence, is it?’

He used to think confidence was just believing in himself. But now he knew that without skill, it was just empty talk.

Confidence grew over time. If you believed in what you had done and in your hard work, confidence would come naturally, without needing to brag.

“Is this a one-on-one fight?”

The corners of Jo Gul’s mouth turned up slightly.

‘The pride of a famous sect, huh?’

As four of them stepped forward, four from the other side did too. They must have agreed to fight as a group without rules, but now they were forming a more organized fight.

Was this a desire to compete fairly while sticking to the agreement? Or…

‘It doesn’t matter.’

It didn’t matter if it was meant as disrespect or a joke. Jo Gul knew that such things didn’t matter. In the end, skill was what counted.

Clang.

The Wudang swordsman in front of him drew his sword and pointed it at Jo Gul.

Seeing that, Jo Gul couldn’t help but laugh.

The Wudang swordsman, in his black robes and Taoist hat, frowned as Jo Gul was laughing, trying to hide it, but failing.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. It’s not that…”

Jo Gul said, still trying not to laugh.

“You know that feeling? When you’re so proud of what you’ve done that you can’t help but laugh. It has nothing to do with you.”

“…Arrogant words for someone who hasn’t even drawn his sword yet.”

Maybe.

His body was swaying.

The hand holding the sword tightened its grip.

‘I can see it.’

He could tell that the man in front of him was no match for him. His stance, the energy he gave off, and his overall balance were all off. There were so many things he wanted to point out.

If he looked this bad to Jo Gul, how bad must they look to Chung Myung?

‘So that’s why he never stops nagging.’

“I am Jin Gong of Wudang.”

Jo Gul smiled slightly. “And I am Jo Gul, from Mount Hua.”

This was not a friendly spar. More talking would only get in the way.

Jo Gul quietly took his stance. Maybe it was out of pride, but his opponent didn’t seem ready to attack first. Then he would have to make the first move.

Power gathered at the tips of his toes.

Jo Gul didn’t hold back and jumped forward. His sword seemed to shake, and soon it created many sword shadows.

Fast. Slow. Smooth and aggressive.

The many forms of the sword mixed together, making it hard to tell what was real and what was fake.

Change and illusion.

The showy swordplay that was the base of Mount Hua’s swordsmanship appeared at the tip of Jo Gul’s sword.

“Oh!”

The Wudang disciple panicked and stepped back.

‘That’s not the right move.’

Stepping back would only make the change worse. The man had probably never faced a sword like this before.

The Wudang disciple bit his lip and finally began to use his sword.

His sword moved with soft, flowing lines, like water. This was the famous Wudang sword style.

This was also Jo Gul’s first time seeing Wudang’s sword. But Jo Gul didn’t panic and kept pushing his opponent.

‘Like a monster.’

– Experiencing many real battles doesn’t mean much. It doesn’t mean you’ll get better at improvising or that you won’t be nervous. It just means you’ll experience more and know more. Even the same sword can be very different depending on the swordsmanship. Mount Hua’s sword is showy, Jongnam’s sword is serious, Jeomcang’s sword is fast, and Wudang’s sword is soft.

– So, are you saying we should experience many real battles?

– No. You guys don’t need to do that, because I’m here. If you get hit with different swords in different ways, you’ll naturally get used to it. So, today, let’s start by getting hit softly with Wudang’s sword.

– …Why do we have to get hit?

He didn’t hear the answer to his question, but he had already felt that sword with his body.

‘Even…’

Compared to the softness of Chung Myung’s sword, this wasn’t even a soft sword. The Wudang sword that Chung Myung had shown was much more complete. There was no way Jo Gul, who had faced such a sword, would be worried by Wudang’s sword now.

Jo Gul’s sword got faster.

Faster! More showy!

Wudang’s sword was about taking the lead after the opponent moved first. It was about stopping the opponent’s sword with a steady mind, without rushing.

Wudang had become one of the top swordsmanship styles in the world with this sword.

How do you deal with that sword?

– The way to deal with it is to freeze them to death. If someone is good at blocking fast attacks, you just stab them even faster! Everything is relative! Water puts out fire, but it evaporates in front of a bigger fire.

Wham!

Jo Gul’s sword cut through the air.

The incredibly fast thrust didn’t even give the opponent a chance to swing his sword.

‘Slow!’

It was too slow.

Not to mention Chung Myung, even his fellow disciples’ swords were twice as fast. And his grand-disciples’ swords were even faster than that.

Was it because the swords were different?

Nonsense.

The swords might be different, but the basics were the same. Jo Gul smiled without thinking.

‘I am strong.’

That Wudang sword was powerless against Jo Gul.

It was in his body and in his sword.

The two years he had spent with Chung Myung were all there.

Seeing the Wudang swordsman’s confused face, Jo Gul swung his sword again.

Jin Hwa, who was facing Yoon Jong next to him, was just as confused.

‘This can’t be!’

Jin Hwa’s face twisted in anger.

‘Me, losing to a Mount Hua brat!’

It was barely right to even call them Mount Hua.

As far as he knew, the Mount Hua disciple he was facing was one generation below him. He was Wudang’s second-generation disciple, but Yoon Jong was Mount Hua’s third-generation disciple.

But Jin Hwa had already been cut several times by Yoon Jong’s sword.

“Ugh!”

The anger he couldn’t hold back came out of his mouth.

“This can’t be happening!”

Anger clouded the tip of his sword.

A small gap appeared in Jin Hwa’s constant sword movements.

Yoon Jong didn’t miss that gap.

Whoosh!

Yoon Jong’s sword, which had thrust forward, aimed for the gap and hit the sword.

Clang!

Wudang’s sword began by softly receiving the opponent’s sword. If they failed to do that, they couldn’t start anything.

Yoon Jong’s sword, which had thrown off his opponent’s balance, split into dozens of sword shadows, aiming for Jin Hwa’s entire body.

A showy sword technique mixed with fake and real attacks.

“Eek!”

Jin Hwa desperately swung his sword, but he couldn’t stop himself from being cut again.

In the middle of that, Jin Hwa saw it.

Dozens of sword shadows, showy and fast, aiming for him, and behind them!

Yoon Jong’s eyes, which were so calm.

‘How?’

The sword was so sharp and fierce, but Yoon Jong, who was using the sword, was so calm.

“I, I am a disciple of Wudang!”

Jin Hwa shouted and threw himself into the sword shadows. He was ready to give up his flesh to strike at the bone!

But Yoon Jong didn’t panic and took a step back.

Exactly one step.

That distance was enough.

His sword, which had been moving wildly, fell softly downward. Like a plum blossom falling slowly, his sword landed on Jin Hwa’s shoulder as he charged in.

Slash!

Blood spurted out as his shoulder was cut open.

Clang!

Jin Hwa’s sword fell to the ground, and his face was shocked.

“You…”

Yoon Jong quietly spoke to Jin Hwa, who couldn’t understand and was staring at him.

“Your sword wasn’t bad.”

However.

“The time you and I have spent is just too different.”

“……”

“Step back.”

Clutching his bleeding shoulder, Jin Hwa stumbled backward. Seeing that, Yoon Jong shrugged.

‘This… I’ve become too strong.’

He looked back and saw Chung Myung watching him. Yoon Jong quickly looked away.

Judging from the unhappy look in his eyes, he would probably be nagged at later.

But he couldn’t feel bad.

Yoon Jong quietly said.

“The Mount Hua sword is strong.”

Now was the time for everyone to know that.