Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1742

*Crack!*

He felt his fingers punch through bone, a sickening crunch.

Brain matter splattered, warm and wet on his hand. He glanced down at the man’s face, eyes already dimming, life draining away like water from a cracked cup. The sharp, metallic smell of blood filled his nose, thick and heavy.

Even in this bloody chaos, his mind felt like it was drifting further away, like a boat untethered from its dock.

What was it……?

After throwing aside the body, he plunged his left hand into the heart of another rushing towards him. The man couldn’t even cry out as he feebly swung his sword for the last time. The blade grazed his left cheek.

Pain spread. He was used to it now.

Or was he truly used to it?

Warm, sticky blood ran down his cheek, tasting metallic as it reached his lips.

He tried to remember something, but the memory escaped him. It must have been important.

*Clang!*

The sword flying towards his face clashed against the ring on his finger. The sharp sound of metal against metal pierced his eardrums.

*Boom!*

A heavy fist struck the center of the enemy’s chest. He saw the shattered chest bones piercing through the back.

*Slash!*

Something sliced past his side.

But he didn’t look back. He only looked forward.

Ugh!

With a groan, someone behind him collapsed. As he glanced down, he saw the glazed eyes of the fallen man.

Name?

Again, he couldn’t remember. Or maybe he never knew it. He had never cared about the people behind him.

He looked forward again, towards the rushing enemies, and beyond them to somewhere far away.

What was he looking for? He couldn’t remember.

Did he ever know?

Still, he moved forward. Otherwise, he couldn’t withstand the rage rising from deep inside him.

A fire burned in his chest, choking him, bitter and sharp like acid. It never went out.

A rage that felt like it would destroy him if he stopped. Endless hatred for someone he didn’t know. A desperate thirst that made him want to cut his own throat.

How long had he been tormented by this thirst?

Splash.

He stepped through the blood on the ground. He saw the faces of those rushing towards him.

He saw all sorts of negative emotions.

Anger and resentment, fear and frustration. Some screamed, unable to control their rage, while others tried to hide their fear.

It all mixed together, boiling before his eyes.

It was like watching a scene in a play, not living it. Everything around him felt unreal and far away.

Wham!

The enemies flew away. Flesh tore and bones shattered. Intestines spilled out, and blood spurted.

Even in this terrible carnage, it all felt like a hazy dream.

He looked at his hand.

His pale hand, stained with blood, was covered in mismatched rings. The wide robe over his wrist was red with the blood of his enemies.

Strange.

It was his hand, but it didn’t feel like it. This strange feeling that nothing was right made him feel sick.

His stomach churned, and his face twisted.

Wham!

A huge blade flew in, hitting the blue aura around him.

He felt intense pain, like his body was being crushed, but even that didn’t make him feel real.

An old man, tears of blood streaming from his eyes, attacked again. Each time his white hair moved, a desperate glint flashed in his eyes.

Wham!

But the fist that blocked the blade showed no emotion.

Slash!

A long wound appeared on his wrist.

Slash!

His chest was slashed.

Slash!

The blade almost hit his neck.

He could sense it in the attack. This old man was incredibly skilled, full of pride and desperation.

Even in his hazy state, he felt those emotions clearly.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the old man’s group. He saw most of them turning and running.

Something they must protect…

Well, what could it be?

Whirr!

Blue aura shot from his fingertips and came together. Two rings slipped off his fingers, taking in the energy like blue flames.

Wham!

Two streaks of blue light shot across the sky.

The blade that had been swung with all its might stopped for a moment. It was only a brief moment, but in a fight to the death, even that was enough.

After hesitating, the blade blocked the ring flying towards it.

Kaaang!

The blade bounced back. At the same time, a pure white hand pierced through the center of the old man’s chest like lightning.

The old man’s eyes widened. Astonishment, despair, and regret flashed in his eyes.

He thought, ‘Disgusting.’

Feeling regret at the end.

Yes, at first, he would have tried to protect it at all costs, even with his life. He would have stood firm in his own way.

But when it really mattered, he hesitated. He faltered.

And that hesitation destroyed not only what he had to protect, but his own life as well.

A bitter smile appeared on his face.

In the most important moments, when everything comes together, you see the ugly truth of the world. It’s full of things you don’t want to see.

Wham!

The old man’s head shattered. Brain fluid and broken bones scattered.

The sound of his breathing filled his ears.

Hazy. Even more hazy. Even though the blood pouring on his skin was hot, even though the killing intent piercing his body was sharp, even though his breath was rough as if his lungs would burst, it was all the same.

Only the fire inside became more vivid.

Resentment like he had swallowed charcoal, and hatred for something he didn’t know.

But he didn’t scream because it wouldn’t change anything. He only staggered forward, sneering at everything he saw.

What was it?

Well, he couldn’t remember. Maybe it never existed. It didn’t matter anymore.

My foot crunched on something unexpectedly soft. I looked down. In the dim light of the battlefield, I saw it was a body. Not a soldier anymore, just a broken shape, like discarded meat.

Death comes for everyone, I thought, as I looked at the body.

His gaze turned upward.

The scorching sun looked down upon him. No matter how he reached, no matter how he screamed, he would never touch it. Even though he knew he couldn’t reach it, his hand still stretched towards the sun.

His sleeve slid down, revealing countless scars. Only then did he see. The blood on his robe wasn’t from enemies. It was all his own blood.

Extreme dizziness and nausea washed over him.

But instead of collapsing, he strengthened his legs. He stretched his hand towards the sun a little more, and then thrashed it in the air. He reached out with a desperate longing.

With his vision blurred, he couldn’t overcome the burning thirst and opened his mouth…

His unfocused eyes gradually sharpened. Slowly, from left to right, he surveyed his surroundings.

He looked around the tent. It was decorated nicely, but he could still see signs of the battlefield.

He, who had been motionless for a long time, slowly raised his hand. The soft blanket covering his body slid off, revealing his bare upper body.

His upper body was covered in scars, big and small, crossing over each other. The wounds he suffered in his dreams were now etched onto his body as faded scars.

The scars were old, a reminder that the battles were long over.

Jang Il-So lightly stroked the scars engraved on his upper body with his pale fingertips.

He felt no emotion, and it didn’t matter. After all, all anyone saw was the splendid robe he wore. Who would care what his body looked like inside?

The tent door, not fully closed, was slightly open. Through the gap, he could see the sun already at its peak.

As he had in his dreams, he slowly reached out towards the sun.

He knew he could never touch the sun, but that’s why he wanted to reach for it – because it was a challenge.

Perhaps… he seemed to have said these words back then too.

Feeling a thirst far more extreme than back then, he opened his mouth.

“It’s a good day.”

A soft smile spread across Jang Il-So’s face.

“They’re bustling about…

His long fingers tapped near his red lips.

“The Wudang Sect, you say?”

“Yes.”

Jang Il-So asked with a hum.

“Hmm. The reason?”

“I have not yet ascertained it.”

Because the enemies were gathering, he had spies watching the Wudang Sect. But it was harder to get inside and find out exactly why they were gathered.

“I will find out.”

“No, it’s fine. Leave it be. What does the reason matter anyway?”

Jang Il-So chuckled.

“The important thing is that there’s a problem. It must be serious if they are making noise even though they know we are watching.”

Ho Ga-Myung nodded slowly in agreement. Jang Il-So, who had been humming for a moment, asked.

“Do you know what happens if you fight until you’re covered in wounds, and then fight again… and still fight repeatedly without tiring?”

“You become like the Lord of the Alliance.”

Jang Il-So, who had been laughing cheerfully, paused and looked at Ho Ga-Myung with an awkward expression. It seemed that it wasn’t the answer he had been expecting.

“……Was I wrong?”

“Ugh. No, well, it’s right, but… it’s not normal. Usually… wounds get infected.”

Jang Il-So lightly scratched his cheek and laughed softly.

“When you are angry, you don’t notice how much the pain inside you is hurting you. You only realize it after time has passed and the heat in your head has subsided.”

The corners of Jang Il-So’s lips twisted.

“That the wounds have all rotted and can’t be healed.”

Ho Ga-Myung let out a short sigh.

Jang Il-So was not wrong when he said that they were not the only ones who had suffered damage.

The reason they were so strong, in a way that others couldn’t understand, was not only because they were strong. It was because they had run so fiercely that they couldn’t even look back at their own wounds.

But now they would know.

That their bodies were also full of terrible wounds. And that some wounds were even more fatal because they couldn’t be seen.

Jang Il-So looked at Ho Ga-Myung and asked.

“Ga-Myung. What should we do?”

There was a faint playfulness in his eyes. Ho Ga-Myung, who had been choosing his words for a moment, said.

“If it were me, I wouldn’t let them stay confused. I would attack them quickly, before they can recover.”

“Hmm.”

Jang Il-So smiled as if he found it interesting. It seemed like a positive reaction at first glance, but Ho Ga-Myung knew well that this was not a sign of affirmation.

“That would be good too. That would be fun too. But don’t you want to watch them suffer a little longer?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we deal with the problem directly, it might get better. But what if we can’t fix it?”

“I think it would be fun to watch those fools slowly fall apart, knowing they can’t do anything about it.”

Jang Il-So was clearly convinced. Whatever the commotion they were experiencing was, they would never be able to fix it.

And he was probably right. Because it was Jang Il-So’s prediction. Nevertheless, Ho Ga-Myung couldn’t let go of one anxiety.

“Even the Plum Blossom Sword Demon can’t solve……”

But he suddenly closed his mouth after bringing up the subject. Because a question had flashed through his mind.

Why did Jang Il-So have a private meeting with him? Was it because he fully trusted Ho Ga-Myung’s tactics that keeping him was the way to win this war? Really?

Of course, that might be the case. But was that truly the only reason?

“……You’ve confirmed it.”

Jang Il-So looked at Ho Ga-Myung with an interesting gaze.

“That he is someone who can’t do that. You went to confirm that, or rather……”

Ho Ga-Myung asked with a stiff face.

“Did you make sure he can’t stop it?”

Jang Il-So didn’t bother to answer. Then, he brought the wine glass to his lips but stopped slightly. He chuckled and slowly extended the glass forward as if offering it.

“Everyone has something they can’t let go of. Something they can’t give up.”

“But sometimes people don’t realize that it’s leading them into trouble.”

At this moment, there was someone behind Ho Ga-Myung watching and listening to all of this.

It was a swordsman with his face covered by a black mask. It was difficult to guess his expression or identity.

“What do you think?”

“Hmm?”

Jang Il-So extended the glass towards the unknown person, but the masked man’s hand remained unmoved. He had dared to refuse Jang Il-So’s glass.

But Jang Il-So only chuckled without any sign of displeasure.

“Tsk, tsk. You really don’t know how to enjoy yourself.”

Jang Il-So took back the extended glass and drank it.

The masked man’s eyes showed many emotions as he watched. It was truly similar to what was contained in Baek Cheon’s eyes.