Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 308

“Take this!” Jo Gul roared, his voice echoing in the crowded arena. He raised his sword high above his head. Sunlight flashed on the polished steel as he swung it down in a powerful arc.

*CLANG!* The sound of metal crashing against metal rang out.

“Krrk,” grunted his opponent, twisting his body to block the blow just in time. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to keep his balance.

Jo Gul was too quick to let the chance slip away. With a grunt of effort, he spun and launched a swift roundhouse kick. His foot connected with the opponent’s ankle with a sickening *thud*.

“Aack!”

His opponent’s body flew into the air. Jo Gul wasn’t about to miss this chance.

“Euryaaah!”

Jo Gul’s sword struck his opponent cleanly, sending him flying.

“Aaaaaaargh!”

Only the faint scream of the opponent, soaring far beyond the arena, echoed throughout the Shaolin Temple, a legendary place for martial arts.

“The victor is Jo Gul of Mount Hua!”

“Huff! Huff! Huff!”

Jo Gul gasped for breath. His chest heaved, and he sucked in air, his face flushed red from the fight.

The final blow was exciting, but the match had been anything but easy. If he had let his guard down for even a moment, he would have lost.

‘It’s getting harder and harder,’ Jo Gul thought, wiping sweat from his brow. *These fighters are truly strong. I can’t relax for a second.*

The best martial arts groups, known as the Nine Sects and Five Great Families, were all represented at the tournament.

As fewer people remained, the level of the opponents rose. He had just fought Murong Do from the Murong Family. Even if they fought again, Jo Gul wasn’t sure he could win.

But.

‘Anyway, I won, and that’s what matters!’

Hadn’t Chung Myung said something like that?

Even if there was nothing to gain from winning, one should win first and see. Jo Gul agreed with that feeling a hundred times over.

As he straightened his back, cheers poured in from the audience.

“Mount Hua has won every match!”

“Unbelievable, they’ve really won them all! They’re so strong!”

“Does this mean Mount Hua has four members left in the top sixteen? Hehe! I never thought I’d see something like this in my lifetime!”

The spectators couldn’t hide their astonishment.

Now, one could say it with certainty.

This was definitely not a fluke.

“Those who boasted about being prestigious families can’t even lift their heads. To think Mount Hua has produced four such masters.”

“Four? Isn’t it five?”

“Huh? Why five?”

“Oh, come on! What about Hwajung Sword! He forfeited due to injury, but he defeated Jin Geum-ryong of Jongnam, who was hailed as a genius. How can you leave him out?”

“Hmm! Now that you mention it, that’s true.”

“Besides, I heard that Baek Cheon of Hwajung Sword has the highest seniority among them. Surely the head disciple of the sect can’t be weaker than his juniors, can he?”

“Just having the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua is enough to puff up their shoulders, but to have four masters comparable to the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua. Mount Hua’s future is looking very bright!”

“Now all that’s left is to win the championship, just win it!”

Expectation flickered in everyone’s eyes.

At this point, they wanted to see Mount Hua win the championship. It would be much more interesting than the usual powerhouses winning, several times over.

And perhaps this expectation might not end as just an expectation.

“Agh, that was really tough.”

Yoon Jong, seeing Jo Gul grumbling as he returned to his seat, frowned slightly.

“Why are you making such a fuss over one match?”

“…Senior Brother.”

“Hmm?”

“Easy for you to say,’ Jo Gul grumbled. ‘*You* got a free pass!’”

Yoon Jong smiled gently.

“I couldn’t exactly insist on fighting when they offered me a bye, could I?”

“Kkeueung.”

Jo Gul sighed deeply.

Originally, it should have been Chung Myung who got the bye. But to prevent corruption, the bracket was redrawn, and Yoon Jong unexpectedly got the bye. It was said that the original bracket might have been corrupt, but this was not clearly explained.

If they had just made him fight one more match, Chung Myung would have, of course…

‘What are these monks trying to pull!’

and rushed to the main hall. But fortunately, thanks to Yoon Jong of Mount Hua getting the bye, he could understand and move on.

“I don’t know why they’re doing this.”

“Isn’t there a grand purpose behind it?”

Yoon Jong smiled gently.

“Shaolin is like a wise old leader in the *Jianghu*, the martial world. And preventing corruption is a good thing in any way you look at it. If the tournament continued with the confirmed bracket, can you be sure that the results wouldn’t be changed due to friendships or bought with money?”

“…Isn’t it just that Senior Brother is happy because he benefited from it?”

“Keuheuheum. That’s not true.”

Yoon Jong cleared his throat loudly.

“My heart is also burning with the desire to prove my sword and show it to them. But since the opportunity isn’t given, it’s truly regrettable.”

“Senior Brother.”

“Hmm?”

“At least wet your lips.”

“I already did.”

“…”

An exceedingly gentle smile spread across Yoon Jong’s face.

How easy was it to accumulate wins for free without even fighting in such a large tournament?

They say if you live virtuously, the heavens will bestow blessings.

‘The heavens are bestowing blessings upon me.’

It was understandable.

In fact, how could he put into words the hardships he had endured?

He just happened to be the senior disciple of the Chung generation, and that Chung Myung just happened to enter Mount Hua as the youngest of the Chung generation.

Considering the pain he had suffered, even King Yama would shed tears, saying, ‘You have already experienced hell in this life, so there’s no need for you to go to hell.’

So, wouldn’t this much blessing be alright?

“Don’t be too happy. The bracket changing arbitrarily means you don’t know who you’ll meet next, right?”

“I’m confident no matter who I meet.”

“What if you meet me?”

“Then that day will be the day the hierarchy of the Chung generation is firmly re-established.”

“…Kkeueueung.”

Jo Gul gritted his teeth.

Looking at Yoon Jong, who was smiling with a smooth face, made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Things in the world can’t always go so easily, can they?”

“But so far, things have gone quite well. Especially since coming to Shaolin.”

“Kkeueung.”

Yoon Jong smiled gently.

“It seems Shaolin is giving me good energy. I should aim for at least the finals.”

Yoon Jong laughed heartily.

Very heartily.

“…”

The finals…

Oh, right. He did say the finals.

Yoon Jong turned his head slightly.

The first thing he saw was the audience. They were all looking at him with pity.

“…”

The next thing he saw was his fellow Mount Hua disciples. They were all clicking their tongues at him.

Jo Gul, sitting in the front, was chuckling with a triumphant smile on his face.

‘That bastard…’

Seeing Jo Gul looking so happy made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to jump down and smack that guy’s mouth right now, but…

Unfortunately, Yoon Jong didn’t have the luxury to do that right now.

Why?

The reason was quite simple.

His trembling eyes turned to his opponent.

‘I was happy about the bye, but.’

These damn bastards!

What’s the point of a bye if this is what happens!

The guy standing across from him grinned and opened his mouth.

“Don’t be scared, don’t be scared.”

“…”

“What’s the big deal? Just swinging a sword around, that’s all.”

The corner of the guy’s mouth curled up.

“However…”

Yoon Jong’s spine began to tingle as he watched the guy grip his sword by the scabbard.

“Since you’ve got such a good opportunity, shall we see just how much your skills have improved, properly, very pro. per. ly?”

Yoon Jong squeezed his eyes shut, watching Chung Myung laugh loudly.

“What?”

“Heaven is giving us good luck?” Chung Myung asked, laughing. “That’s ridiculous.”

‘Why!’

With sixteen people here, why did it have to be that devil!

No!

Don’t the Shaolin monks know anything? Shouldn’t they try to avoid fights between people from the same group?

Even if people from the same group must fight, why him? Jo Gul and Sa Go are here too! Why does *that* guy have to be my opponent?

Yoon Jong looked up at the platform, his eyes filled with tears.

He met Hyun Jong’s eyes, who was looking at him with a pitiful expression.

‘Sect Leader.’

Hyun Jong looked away quickly, pretending he hadn’t seen Yoon Jong’s eyes.

All the pitiful gazes in the world were directed at Yoon Jong, but they offered no comfort.

Because…

“Hee hee hee hee.”

The very person who should have felt sorry for him was approaching, giggling as if he found it hilarious.

“Chung Myung…” Yoon Jong said, his voice a little shaky.

“Huh?” Chung Myung turned, still grinning.

“You seem to have forgotten something,” Yoon Jong tried to sound confident, but his voice wavered slightly. “I’m your Senior Brother, remember?”

“I know, Senior Brother. Haven’t forgotten,” Chung Myung’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“No, I don’t think you *have* remembered…” Yoon Jong swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “Think about it. If you beat me like… like a dog in front of everyone, what will people think of Mount Hua?”

Chung Myung tilted his head. “That we’re passionate fighters?”

Yoon Jong sighed. “…”

“Or…” Chung Myung continued, a wider grin spreading, “that we really respect skill above all else?”

“…” Yoon Jong mumbled, “They’ll think we’re a complete mess.”

“Ah, is that so?” Chung Myung’s grin turned into a sly, sinister smile. His eyes narrowed slightly, and Yoon Jong felt a shiver run down his spine. *That smile… it always meant trouble.*

“So, how about we avoid hurting each other and just do it moderately?”

Chung Myung nodded, wide-eyed. “Good point, Senior Brother.”

“Oh, really?”

For once, he seems to understand me…

“But, Senior Brother.”

“Huh?”

“You seem to have forgotten something too.”

“Huh?”

Chung Myung slammed his sword down.

Wham!

Chung Myung’s sword crashed down. *Crack!* A spiderweb of cracks spread across the thick bluestone, and dust puffed up like smoke.

Chung Myung’s words followed, as if spitting them out.

“Was ‘moderately’ ever a word used in Mount Hua?”

“Who are you, so young and inexperienced, to talk about ‘moderately’! ‘Moderately’! When I was younger…”

“Yes. I’m sure you weren’t like that back then.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“And I’m older than you, you crazy bastard.”

“In our sect, the better fighter is like the older brother.”

Yoon Jong covered his face.

‘Something is fundamentally wrong with this sect.’

But!

Yoon Jong slowly drew his sword.

“Don’t forget, Chung Myung.”

“Huh?”

“I am your Senior Brother, and the eldest of the Cheong generation. Yes. I knew this day would come eventually. I won’t let you push me around forever!”

“Hoo-oo-oo?”

Chung Myung smiled strangely as he watched Yoon Jong draw his sword, filled with determination.

“You’re going to try?”

“I don’t think I can win. But! Just like Sa Go did, and my Martial Uncle did, I need to prove myself too! And you are more than worthy as my opponent!”

Yoon Jong’s eyes were filled with determination.

“Come. I, too, will one day lead Mount Hua! I will show you that my will is unbreakable.”

“Keeeuh!”

Chung Myung nodded as if deeply moved.

“Indeed, that’s right.”

He looked straight at Yoon Jong.

“I seem to have underestimated Senior Brother. After seeing you in Yunnan, I know you are a true Mount Hua disciple.”

The corner of Yoon Jong’s mouth twitched.

Hearing such words from Chung Myung, who is so stingy with praise, is quite significant.

Chung Myung muttered.

“Unbreakable will, is it?”

Then he nodded.

“Alright. Then I’ll have to face you properly.”

“Huh?”

Sreung.

Chung Myung slowly began to draw his sword from its scabbard.

“Chung Myung?”

Why are you suddenly drawing your sword?

Making me nervous?

Chung Myung, with the scabbard tucked at his side, raised his sword and pointed it at Yoon Jong.

“If a martial artist says he will prove his will, it’s only polite to face him with all your strength! Don’t worry, Senior Brother! I will give it my all!”

Should I be happy about this?

Huh?

Should I be happy?

At that moment, a truly sharp aura began to emanate from Chung Myung.

Yoon Jong’s body, which was directly facing that tremendous aura that made it hard to even stand, began to shrink back involuntarily.

“Now, here I come!”

The referee, who had been watching the situation, raised his hand high.

“Then, let’s begin…”

“Referee!”

Suddenly, Yoon Jong abruptly turned his head and called out to the referee.

“Hm?”

And he shouted resolutely.

“I forfeit!”

Silence fell over the entire Shaolin area. It was so quiet you could hear the birds in the trees. Everyone stared at Yoon Jong.

Yoon Jong subtly avoided the gazes of Chung Myung and the referee, who were looking at him with rotten eyes. And he muttered politely.

“A smart person avoids pointless work.”

“Isn’t Senior Brother a Taoist? What does a Taoist know about being a wise man?”

I need to live too.

I do.

Baek Cheon, who was watching the scene from below the sparring arena, wore a pleased smile.

“Geol-ah.”

“Yes, Martial Uncle!”

“Drag that bastard over here.”

“Yes!”

Baek Cheon gritted his teeth and cracked his neck from side to side.

“I call that thing my martial nephew.”

The sect is doing well.

Very well.