Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 518

The soldiers at the front panicked. They pushed and pulled, trying to get away.

But there was nowhere to retreat. They had rushed forward too fast. Now, they were packed together tightly, with no way to run.

“Aaaargh! Get out of the way! Move, you bastards!”

“Get out of the way!”

Those gripped by terror were blind to everything else.

They grabbed their comrades’ shoulders, shoving them toward the Demonic Cultists, trampling the bewildered, and leaping over their heads.

Some had been ready to attack.

Some froze, confused.

Others turned and ran, fear taking over.

The force that had been moving with perfect unity for a single purpose instantly twisted, becoming a chaotic mess.

“Calm down! Get a grip! What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t turn around! Don’t you dare turn around!”

The unit leaders, scattered here and there, shouted to try and control the situation, but it was no use to those facing a terror they had never experienced before.

“Get out of my way, you sons of bitches!”

“Aaaargh!”

They screamed, clawed, and shoved. Some even turned the tips of their swords, meant for the enemy, against their own allies.

It was total chaos.

Fear exploded outwards, like a bomb going off. Those at the back hadn’t even seen the horror at the front, but they felt it. It was in the screams, in the way their comrades stumbled back, eyes wide with madness. A wave of cold dread washed over them. Faces went white as bone, and some men began to shake so hard their teeth chattered. The air itself seemed to thicken with terror, making it hard to breathe.

Amidst the chaos of those screaming and writhing, unsure of what to do, the Demonic Cultists’ claws pierced fiercely.

Crack!

A person’s body was torn and ripped apart, still clutching the sword they couldn’t bear to let go of.

They couldn’t even handle them face-to-face, so to turn their backs on such foes? The result was all too predictable.

The Demonic Cultists’ eyes gleamed with madness. They showed no hesitation, plunging their black claws deep into flesh and bone of those who turned away and pierced their hearts with blackened hands.

Amidst all this, the Demonic Cultists ceaselessly chanted a low chant, further stimulating and amplifying the Ice Palace disciples’ terror. The chilling voices murmuring the chant seemed to be everywhere.

“Hieeek!”

An Ice Palace warrior collapsed on the spot.

A black hand, protruding from his comrade’s chest, clutched a freshly ripped-out heart, still throbbing.

“…”

Blood, steaming from the snow-white heart, splattered his face.

“Ah… Aaaah…”

A swordsman always walks hand-in-hand with death.

He, too, had lived believing he was prepared for death. But the vivid death he faced right before his eyes made him realize how flimsy that belief had been.

“…”

His trousers grew damp.

These creatures aren’t human.

Humans can’t do this. Only Asuras crawled up from the Asura Realm could kill people so cruelly.

“Huu… Huuuu…”

Thwack!

But, fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t have to suffer from terror for long. A person whose head is crushed whole cannot feel fear.

The Demonic Cultist who had blown away the Ice Palace disciple’s head grinned, baring his teeth at the other Ice Palace disciples who dared not even breathe. The hearts of those terrified sank as if they had stopped for a moment at the sight of his blood-soaked teeth.

“The Heavenly Demon has returned…”

A small chant, barely audible unless one strained to listen, leaked from his lips.

“Ten thousand demons obey.”

The Demonic Cultist wiped his face with his hand.

It was unclear whether he was wiping away the blood on his face or smearing the blood on his hand onto his face.

The Ice Palace disciples could neither understand nor interpret the Demonic Cultist’s actions.

It was an unknown territory.

What cannot be understood inspires fear.

“There is no land for unbelievers to live and breathe. Our mission is to purify the land where the Great One will descend.”

The Demonic Cultist’s eyes flashed, and he burst into a great roar, charging quickly toward the Ice Palace warriors.

Yeo Sahon trembled, his eyes wide with shock.

Being at the very back of the front line, he hadn’t properly seen the massacre unfolding in front.

But he could tell. He couldn’t help but know.

The sight of the Ice Palace’s symbolic pure white army charging was like a massive wave crashing onto a white beach.

But the moment it collided with the crimson beach that was the Demonic Cult, crimson foam began to erupt. Blood rained down, and the white wave was pathetically shattered, turning red.

“Th-This is…”

His beard trembled.

He felt the blood chilling in his veins.

More than ten times the manpower?

That was an illusion. At least, at this moment, it meant nothing.

No matter how many sheep there are, they cannot stop a single wolf that has infiltrated them.

At this moment, the Ice Palace warriors were merely sheep, and those Demonic Cultists were wolves, or perhaps even unknown beasts beyond that.

‘This is the Demonic Cult…’

He knew so little.

Despite encountering them several times, he had no idea what kind of place the Demonic Cult was, or how insane the Demonic Cultists were.

Of course, this wasn’t Yeo Sahon’s fault.

Who could have imagined that these gloomy and quiet people would bare their teeth and change so drastically?

The Demonic Cult.

A terrifying and dreadful existence. An existence that inspires fear.

Yeo Sahon understood belatedly why the stories about them were conveyed only in vague and superficial language.

This was a sight that could not be conveyed in words.

No orator, no historian could describe in words and writing what kind of beings they were.

Not knowing that was Yeo Sahon’s mistake, and the Ice Palace’s mistake.

Yeo Sahon was now trembling like an aspen.

His head went deathly white, and his vision blurred.

“Ah…”

His eyes, mixed with fear and confusion, shook wildly.

“Elder!”

“…”

“Elder! Give us instructions! We have to do something! Elder!”

As the situation spiraled to the worst, more and more people called out to Yeo Sahon from around him. But he remained frozen like a stone statue, unable to say a word.

His deathly pale lips moved soundlessly.

“Elder! You must come to your senses! Elder!”

True courage is revealed when everything has collapsed.

Although the Ice Palace had almost lost its ice-like reason, there were clearly those within it who still possessed the soul of a warrior.

“Get out of the way! Move, you dog-like bastards!”

“Haaaargh! Aaaaargh!”

They pushed forward, breaking through the comrades who were being pushed back like a mad wave. They saw the gruesome corpses of their comrades being torn to pieces and flung away.

Grrr.

Blood streamed down from his tightly clenched lips.

‘These devilish bastards.’

Words are useless.

When people lose courage, words are useless. Nothing can comfort them. The only way to bring courage back is to show them they *can* fight.

*Thud!*

Shoulders crashed together again and again. The air smelled thick with blood and sweat.

The Ice Palace warrior gritted his teeth. *For the Palace!* he thought. He stepped forward and poured all his inner energy into his sword.

“Haaah!”

His friend fell with a scream. Using this opening, the warrior made a desperate attack.

*Thwack!*

The warrior’s eyes widened. He was surprised he hit so easily. He was more confused than happy. He felt a moment of hope, thinking he had actually hurt the monster.

But then…

The cultist slowly raised a hand. It was black with blood and something else, something dark and unclean. He gripped the sword stuck in his stomach.

Then, he lifted his head and stared right at the Ice Palace warrior.

‘…Is he smiling?’

His face was twisted and looked like a demon’s. It was horrible and strange. But then, a smile appeared. It was the most terrifying thing the warrior had ever seen.

*Clang!*

The blade, held by the cultist’s hand, snapped clean off.

The Ice Palace warrior had pushed hard with his sword. Now, he stumbled back because of the force.

*Grasp.*

The cultist reached out and grabbed his neck tightly.

“Gack!”

His hand squeezed, as if to break his neck. The Ice Palace warrior struggled, his body becoming stiff.

The cultist looked at the Ice Palace warrior he held. With his free hand, he pulled the sword from his stomach.

“…You worm.”

*Thwack!*

And he plunged it straight into the Ice Palace warrior’s chest.

*Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!*

Many fast stabs tore apart the Ice Palace warrior’s chest and shoulders. The body was torn apart. The cultist threw the lifeless body to the ground and stomped on its skull.

*Crack!* The sound was sickening, like crushing bones and wet earth.

It was too horrible to watch.

The Ice Palace warrior’s courage was real. But in the end, that courage only made his friends even more terrified.

The cultist wiped blood from the wound on his stomach with his hand. Thick, dark blood stained his fingers.

He held up his bloody hand for everyone to see. Then he looked ahead, his face cold and empty. And with the same strength as before he was hurt, he began to kill the Ice Palace disciples.

Even hurt, he was still the same. He bled red blood, just like a normal person.

That fact brought pure despair to the Ice Palace.

It was falling apart.

The cultists were like dark clouds, making the white Ice Palace look black with evil. The white snow was turning red.

“… …”

No one could speak.

The disciples of Mount Hua watched through two small windows. They were frozen, shocked. Only their quick, scared breaths could be heard.

*Drip.*

Sweat dripped from Baek Cheon’s chin and soaked into the floor. His stomach churned. He had to look away, but he forced himself to watch.

Baek Cheon wasn’t the only one sweating.

They thought they had been through terrible times before. But they had never seen anything as awful as this. The faces of the Mount Hua disciples were as white as paper.

“…S, Senior Uncle.” Tang Soso whispered, her voice shaking.

“… …”

Baek Cheon bit his lip silently.

‘Is this the Demonic Cult…?’

Now he understood.

What Chung Myung’s words meant.

He had to see this to believe it. He could not have understood this scene without seeing it himself.

‘That’s not a person.’

It wasn’t about strength.

Even if Baek Cheon could beat these cultists easily, he would still feel deeply uneasy. It wasn’t about strength. It was something else, something deeply wrong.

Chung Myung said the Demonic Cult guys were all crazy.

He was right. No, even those words were not strong enough to describe them.

“Amitabha… Amitabha. Amitabha…!” Hye-yeon chanted, his voice trembling. At first, he chanted the Buddha’s name because he felt uneasy. But now, his chanting was full of anger. He clutched his prayer beads tightly.

His face was pale white, and his eyes were tightly closed. He looked very sad.

“How can… How can a person…!” Yoon Jong gritted his teeth, shaking with rage. His hands clenched into fists.

“Senior Brother. Calm down.” Jo Gul said, grabbing Yoon Jong’s shoulder tightly. But Yoon Jong’s anger did not go away.

“…A person can’t be like that. A person shouldn’t be like that!”

Even now, more bodies of Ice Palace warriors were piling up. They were beaten and broken.

There were only about fifty cultists.

A small number of Demonic Cult members were destroying the Ice Palace, which had stood for hundreds of years.

Now he understood why everyone – good groups, bad groups, and even people from other countries – had to join together to stop the Demonic Cult. It wasn’t just a religion; it was a threat to everyone.

And why Chung Myung was so disgusted whenever the Demonic Cult was mentioned.

The screams of people running in fear.

The last breaths of dying people as their bodies were ripped apart.

This was the sound of hell.

“Amitabha.” Hye-yeon chanted again, putting his palms together.

“This hell should not be in the world. This should not happen. This…”

He stopped, unable to speak more. He was overwhelmed with anger and sadness.

“Senior Brother.”

Yoo Iseol, who had been quiet, spoke.

“It’s falling apart.”

“… …”

She was right. Baek Cheon could see it too.

The Ice Palace warriors had lost all hope. They were running away in terror.

“What should we do?” Tang Soso asked, looking at Chung Myung.

‘Not yet?’

He was still meditating.

“…For now, we wait a little longer. Let’s wait just a little longer.”

Baek Cheon bit his lip harder.

Then, a figure jumped gracefully from the top of the castle walls.

A battlefield of blood and death.

A man in a black, blood-stained coat walked lightly. He strolled across the ground covered in torn bodies and spilled blood.

Like a demon king walking through a land of death.