Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 630

It was a slightly odd situation.

Despite having honed his swordsmanship for quite some time and following his own path, Un-geom had never truly engaged in a proper sparring match with anyone.

This very moment marked his first real duel.

He felt a little excited. This was surprising, even to himself.

Had it been a duel to prove his skills, he might have been nervous. But this duel wasn’t a stage to demonstrate his abilities.

Merely…

Un-geom stepped onto the worn wooden platform. The afternoon sun beat down, and he could feel the eyes of the crowd.

“I am Un-geom, from Mount Hua,” Un-geom said, his voice steady.

Mu-gak’s eyes went to Un-geom’s empty sleeve, then back to his face.

“A first-generation disciple?” Mu-gak said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t expect a senior from Mount Hua to fight in this duel.”

Un-geom scratched his cheek with a slightly sheepish look.

“Though I am a worthless fellow who enjoys the fame and glory earned by my juniors, you need not worry too much, for I do know how to wield a sword.”

His voice was calm. Mu-gak quietly observed him, then nodded.

Mu-gak looked at Un-geom’s empty sleeve. It told a story. Mu-gak guessed Un-geom had been a right-handed swordsman who now had to use his left hand.

An unfamiliar name. The assessment of Mount Hua’s first-generation disciples. And even a left-handed sword. There was nothing to highly regard.

Yet…

He is not someone to be taken lightly.

Un-geom’s presence was calm, like a mountain at dawn. The air around him seemed still, and his eyes were clear and steady.

Mu-gak sighed softly.

‘No, it would be the same no matter who the opponent is.’

He could no longer afford to lose. Wudang was now standing on the edge of a cliff.

“I am Mu-gak, a first-generation disciple of Wudang.”

“I am Un-geom, a first-generation disciple of Mount Hua.”

The two, having drawn their swords and performed the courtesies, aimed their blades at each other.

Squeeze.

Baek Cheon slowly looked down at his own hands. He had clenched them so tightly that the palms had turned white, and sweat had gathered upon them.

‘Un-geom, Martial Uncle.’

Looking around, he saw that the other disciples were also staring intently at the dueling platform with equally tense expressions.

“I should have been the one to go out…” Baek Sang muttered with a voice full of resentment.

He seemed unable to forgive himself for showing hesitation, which had led to Un-geom stepping forward. Baek Cheon stated firmly.

“It is not your fault.”

“But…!”

“Even if you hadn’t hesitated, Martial Uncle would have stepped forward in the end. Do not dwell on useless thoughts.”

“⋯⋯Yes, Senior Brother.”

Baek Cheon clenched his fist again.

Tension, no. This was worry.

However, none of the Mount Hua disciples worried about Un-geom being defeated. Even if he couldn’t properly wield his sword and suffered a miserable defeat, none of the Mount Hua disciples would dare to scorn Un-geom.

It was unlikely, but if there were anyone who did, Baek Cheon would not stand for it.

What they worried about was not defeat, but the mental anguish Un-geom would suffer from having to face his own diminished swordsmanship.

Un-geom had lived, constantly striving, without a day’s rest. What would it mean for him to lose his right arm and his martial prowess?

“Martial Uncle…” A groan-like voice, unable to be suppressed, leaked out.

The image was still vividly etched in their memories. Un-geom, pierced by the enemy’s spear, bleeding and collapsing.

Un-geom’s empty sleeve was a product of their weakness, and a symbol of the efforts of their predecessors who risked their lives to protect them.

Therefore, watching him was unbearably painful.

To Baek Cheon and the other Mount Hua disciples, Un-geom was always like a towering mountain. Even as they grew stronger, none of them thought they had surpassed Un-geom.

That was why that empty sleeve was so heartbreaking and sorrowful.

“If only Martial Uncle hadn’t lost his arm…” Someone’s small murmur painfully pierced the ears of the other Mount Hua disciples.

And then, Cheong-myeong, who had been sitting silently, turned his head sharply and raised his eyebrows.

“These fledglings…”

“He’s not someone you senior brothers need to worry about so much. Stop your useless chatter and just watch!”

Without waiting for a response, he turned his head back and fixed his gaze on Un-geom.

It was neither particularly large nor small, just an ordinary back. But somehow, Cheong-myeong let out a small breath as he looked at Un-geom’s back, which seemed to draw people’s attention.

‘Still awkward, isn’t it.’

Un-geom thought as he gripped the sword tightly with his left hand.

There was a time when the sword felt like an extension of his body.

A state where the sword became him, and he became the sword.

But his right hand, which had naturally accepted the sword, no longer existed. The sword held in his unfamiliar left hand still brought an unavoidable sense of incongruity.

Perhaps this incongruity would never disappear for the rest of his life, until the moment of his death.

The moment when he regarded the sword as an extension of his body might never return to his life.

“Hoo.”

He took a short breath, stabilized the hand holding the sword, and said.

“Come.”

Mu-gak nodded briefly.

Thrust!

His body, kicking off the ground, flew towards Un-geom with great speed.

Clang!

Steel screamed against steel as their swords clashed, sparks flying in the air. The heavy impact transmitted through the sword caused Un-geom’s body to stagger greatly.

Wham!

Mu-gak, having suppressed Un-geom with force and disrupted his stance, quickly retrieved his sword and thrust it out again like lightning. Instantly, several strands of sword energy pierced towards Un-geom from all directions.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Un-geom, deflecting the incoming sword energy, stepped backward.

One must avoid the falling rain first. It’s not bad to retreat appropriately when the opponent is building momentum.

But Mu-gak had no intention of letting Un-geom go easily.

He charged forward even faster than the retreating Un-geom. It was a relentless movement, like a beast hunting its prey.

Zzzzzing!

The sound of the sword tip tearing through the air rang out sharply. An unusually sharp quick sword, unlike Wudang’s style, aimed for the center of Un-geom’s body.

“Hmph!” Un-geom, exhaling a short breath at the aggressive movement, struck the incoming sword upwards.

Clang!

The moment the sword bounced upwards with a concise explosion, Mu-gak followed the force of the sword and lifted his body into the air.

And falling faster than he had risen, he brought his sword down towards Un-geom’s head.

Clang!

Un-geom quickly raised his Plum Blossom Sword to block Mu-gak’s Songmun High Sword descending upon him.

Sword and sword met, pushing each other away.

Un-geom’s left arm, holding the Plum Blossom Sword, trembled like an aspen. The opponent was gripping the sword with both hands, putting all his strength into pressing down. Enduring that force with one arm was by no means an easy task.

His teeth were clenched as if they would break.

Grrrr.

The friction between the swords created a chilling sound. But at that moment.

Whoosh!

Water-like sword energy poured out like a waterfall from Mu-gak’s sword. Un-geom’s eyes widened involuntarily.

“Taaah!” Mu-gak, letting out a shout, put strength into his sword and pushed Un-geom away. Un-geom’s body, unable to withstand the force, was thrown backward and rolled across the floor.

“Martial Granduncle!”

“Damn it! Martial Uncle!”

Uncharacteristic high-pitched screams from the Mount Hua disciples reached the dueling platform. Amidst those screams, Un-geom, who had rolled several times, quickly got back to his feet and resumed his stance.

“Hmm.”

Mu-gak, having gained a clear advantage in this exchange, stopped in his place instead of continuously pressing Un-geom.

And he looked at Un-geom with eyes filled with pity.

“It seems…” He hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

“That you are not very accustomed to the left-handed sword.”

Un-geom gave a bitter smile.

“That is indeed the case.”

“It is a regrettable matter.”

His face was filled with genuine regret as he shook his head.

“If you had not lost your right arm, it would have been a truly good match. It is a pity, a great pity.”

“Perhaps it would have been.”

This was not a provocation.

It was truly pure regret as a martial artist. But that was why it tore at a person’s heart more painfully than a provocation. Sometimes, words of comfort without malice can be more difficult for a person than accusations filled with malice.

But Un-geom was calm, without showing any particular concern.

“However, I am not one to dwell on what I have lost. If all I have is my left hand, then I must do my best with it.”

“⋯⋯A good attitude.”

Un-geom and Mu-gak resumed their stances.

Looking at Mu-gak, who was pressing him with a calm aura like a lake, Un-geom unknowingly gave a bitter smile.

‘My lies have increased.’

Not dwelling on what he had lost?

That couldn’t be.

Regret still remained. No, it was more than just remaining, it was overflowing.

Even now, in his dreams, he wielded the sword with his familiar right hand. When he suddenly woke up from a deep sleep, he would habitually try to move his right hand, only to be left feeling dazed.

Lowered martial prowess.

An unfamiliar life.

People do not despair over something they never had in the first place. It is when they lose something they possessed, and when they realize that they can never regain what they have lost, that they finally despair with all their heart.

Un-geom’s eyes swept over the Mount Hua disciples.

Worried gazes, faces filled with unease and helplessness.

‘Do not look at me with such eyes.’

Even among them, it was Un-am who was the most anxious with an unfamiliar expression. Un-am, who always had the calm demeanor of a Taoist, was biting his lip with an expression he had never shown before.

‘Senior Brother.’

Yes. That was once the case.

In the days when they had not yet given up on their dreams.

When they were exhausted from training that continued until dawn and leaned against the wall, Un-am would sometimes come and have deep conversations with him.

Un-am would one day become the sect leader of Mount Hua, and he would become the greatest swordsman of Mount Hua, so that they could restore the reputation that their sect had lost, they had vowed.

Yes. They had vowed so.

But now, it was a promise that had faded.

– Un-geom. I do not intend to take the position of sect leader.

‘Senior Brother⋯⋯.’

Yes. It had faded.

Un-am had given up the position of sect leader for the sake of future generations, and he might never be able to aim for the position of the greatest swordsman of Mount Hua again.

The predecessors who had endured the long darkness, and the successors who were building a shining reputation.

The Un generation was merely connecting the two.

“Gao!” Mu-gak’s blue sword energy was emitted as if covering the dueling platform.

It was truly vast and incomparably magnificent.

Seeing Mu-gak’s vivid sword energy was dazzling. That sword still held a brilliant light.

Unlike him, who had faded.

‘Faded?’

Un-geom’s sword began to emit red sword energy.

He knew it too. That he could never get it back.

His glorious days, the blue youth that was filled with confidence in himself.

The pure hope that anything could be achieved with effort.

It would not return to him, who had faded.

But…

‘My sword is still here.’

Even if he had to wield it with an unfamiliar hand.

Even if he could never reach the place he had aimed for.

The Plum Blossom Sword, which he had wielded for his entire life, was still in his hand.

“Aaaaargh!” Un-geom, letting out a suppressed roar, charged towards the sword energy that was surging like angry waves.

‘So what if I’m weakened?’

Does being weakened give him a reason not to try?

Could this lingering attachment, clinging to his ankles, be a reason not to take a step forward?

‘Watch me, Senior Brother!’

Just because it has faded does not mean it has disappeared. Even withered branches can bloom.

The sword energy that soared from the tip of Un-geom’s sword bloomed red, like a grievance spewing out towards the world.

He was still standing here.

Here…

Right here.