Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 641

Baek Cheon watched the fight, so clearly that he forgot to breathe. He felt a sudden chill.

This was where Chung Myung stood. This was the view of a Mount Hua elder.

He quietly exhaled.

He had seen Chung Myung fight many times. But this was the first time he watched Chung Myung truly fight a worthy opponent, showing his real skills so closely.

That’s the real swordsman.

This was not a pretty practice fight. This was real combat.

Sasuk.

Yes.

Jo Gul’s voice was quiet, as if he was in shock.

Strength? That didn’t matter.

Everyone knew Chung Myung was strong. No one would be surprised that he was fighting a Mount Hua elder.

But they were breathless because of Chung Myung’s ferocity.

Chung Myung used his strengths to attack where his enemy was weak.

Baek Cheon was watching how to use this basic principle in a real fight.

Chung Myung took big risks when he attacked. It was almost like gambling. But when he saw even a small chance to win, he attacked without stopping. He pushed his enemy hard to make the most of that chance.

This was a martial art he knew, but it felt different. Maybe it wasn’t the martial art he knew at all.

Could I fight like that?

Baek Cheon realized something new.

Martial skill wasn’t everything.

If Baek Cheon fought Chung Myung, who was just as strong, what would happen?

He would be beaten badly in less than twenty seconds. And that was if he fought Chung Myung at his level, not the strong Chung Myung he was now.

Even if he was strong enough to block the sword, he wouldn’t be smart enough to deal with Chung Myung’s quick changes and his unstoppable desire to win. Now, it seemed like Heo Gong was more impressive than Chung Myung. He was facing such a fierce and dangerous sword.

His blood was pumping fast, and his mouth was dry.

The Five Swords, except for Chung Myung, stared at the fight with blank faces. Yoo Iseol usually had a face that showed no feelings at all. But even her face changed a little in shock.

The others.

Baek Cheon looked back.

The Five Swords were shocked, even though they had seen Chung Myung fight many times. How much greater was the shock for the other disciples?

The other Mount Hua disciples were staring at the fight with their mouths open.

That.

Some moved their lips as if they wanted to say something, but they couldn’t and went back to being dazed.

I suppose so.

They couldn’t understand the martial principles in the fight. Even Baek Cheon could only catch glimpses of it.

But they could feel the power of what was happening, even if they didn’t fully understand it.

Good heavens.

Chung Myung is.

Baek Cheon hesitated, watching them unable to finish their sentences.

Should I tell them?

Should I explain what each move meant?

But he shook his head.

Sometimes, it’s better to see and feel than to understand through explanations.

And above all.

I don’t want to pay attention to anything else.

It might be selfish.

Chung Myung was trying to show the Mount Hua disciples even more. As the senior student, Baek Cheon should have been focusing on helping the younger students.

But Baek Cheon set all of that aside for this moment.

As a swordsman, he couldn’t miss this spectacle.

Show me more.

He saw how skilled Chung Myung was. He realized how far he still had to go to reach that level.

Baek Cheon clenched his fist so tightly that it turned white.

Suddenly feeling pain, Moo Jin looked down.

Blood was flowing from his fist, which was clenched so tightly that his nails had cut into his palm. The wound must have been there for a while, but he hadn’t noticed.

Moo Jin stared at his hand, then looked back at the fight.

Avenge?

He couldn’t laugh.

Avenge myself?

Against him? Against Chung Myung?

What on earth have I been looking at?

He knew Chung Myung would get stronger. Chung Myung was young and very talented, so it made sense he would become much stronger.

But he also thought he could keep up. He had trained hard in Mount Hua style. He thought he could at least get close to Chung Myung’s level, even if he wasn’t as strong yet.

But watching the fight, Moo Jin suddenly understood he had been wrong. He had been living in a dream.

Equal to an elder.

No, that wasn’t it.

Chung Myung had the upper hand. Clearly so. If he hadn’t been a Mount Hua disciple, there wouldn’t have been any need to worry.

But was this really possible?

Of course, some people are born special, and some geniuses are born as well. But even so, it was hard to imagine that a young Mount Hua disciple would beat a Mount Hua elder.

Moo Jin turned his head.

He wanted to see Heo Sanja’s expression. He wanted to see if Heo Gong was just pretending to struggle, or if Chung Myung was really winning.

But Moo Jin soon regretted it.

He had never seen it before.

Heo Sanja with that kind of face.

Heo Sanja didn’t hide his emotions well. Moo Jin had seen him embarrassed or annoyed many times, and sometimes angry.

But he had never seen him make that kind of expression.

That was.

Is that fear?

It seemed silly to think a Shaolin elder would be scared by a martial arts show. Shaolin was a famous temple known for its powerful monks and martial arts. No matter how strong Chung Myung was, Shaolin could handle anything.

But a cold thought touched Heo Gong’s mind. What if he wasn’t seeing Chung Myung as he was *now*? What if he was seeing a glimpse of Chung Myung in the *future*? A future where Chung Myung was unstoppable? That thought made his blood run cold.

“…Heo Gong.”

A groan escaped Heo Sanja’s lips.

Mu-jin’s gaze returned to the sparring arena, past Heo Gong in his Shaolin uniform, to Chung Myung.

Throb! Throb! Throb!

His feet were burning. The pain, like red-hot iron skewers piercing his feet, made him dizzy. But Heo Gong couldn’t check his wounds.

The beast that bit his feet was approaching silently, stalking its prey. Heo Gong realized he had become the prey.

‘Me?’

Prey?

Heo Gong, the Shaolin elder?

His sword trembled. His blood felt like it was running in reverse. The smell of burning flesh seemed to rise from his boots, even though he knew it was just his nerves screaming.

The pain in his feet kept him from unleashing his anger.

Could the word ‘eerie’ fully express it?

It wasn’t a long exchange, but it took too much from Heo Gong.

The wounds on his feet were nothing. Even if his feet were crushed, he could still move. The twisted inner power from the collision didn’t matter either. Tai Chi Skill, known for healing inner injuries, was rapidly healing him.

But he couldn’t calm his trembling fingertips.

‘It doesn’t feel like fighting a person.’

It felt like he had barely stopped a wild beast from sinking its fangs into his neck. Sharp fangs had touched him and then moved away.

If he had hesitated, the sword would have pierced his neck. He couldn’t calm down thinking about it.

Cold sweat dripped from Heo Gong’s forehead, gathering at his chin. Chung Myung spoke.

“If you’re so nervous, how can you even hold a sword properly?”

“⋯⋯.”

Instead of answering, Heo Gong bit his lip.

They exchanged blows. But unlike Heo Gong, who was stiff with fear, Chung Myung was calm.

This was more shameful than losing in swordsmanship. Heo Gong had trained his whole life to be the best swordsman. But he was losing to Chung Myung from the start in terms of mindset.

Clench.

Heo Gong gritted his teeth, raised his sword, and pointed it at Chung Myung. He didn’t need to talk.

Chung Myung smirked at that intense feeling. He knew what Heo Gong was thinking.

‘If things could change with just a mindset, no one would bother with hardship.’

Heo Gong was strong.

He wasn’t one of the oldest Shaolin elders. His talent was outstanding, and his attitude toward the sword wasn’t bad.

He couldn’t compare to the Shaolin elders of the past, but he was a strongman.

His solid foundation, great inner power, and strong sword skills surpassed even Seol Cheon-sang of the Ice Palace.

But even so, Heo Gong was weak.

Chung Myung grinned.

That was a sword he had completed alone.

Heo Gong had probably never fought someone with his life on the line. He had sparred and won, but he had never faced a life-or-death battle.

Talent, effort, time. Heo Gong showed what happens to someone who has all those things but only wielded a sword safely.

“It makes me sick.”

Whoosh.

Chung Myung muttered quietly, turned his sword, and lowered his stance.

His blood-soaked teeth were eerily revealed.

“Looks like I’m the one who needs to teach you a thing or two.”

Chung Myung’s feet kicked off the floor.

Wham!

A sonic boom rang out. Chung Myung flew towards Heo Gong like lightning.

Heo Gong, startled, gritted his teeth.

‘Stay calm⋯⋯.’

Chung Myung smiled like a demon and thrust his sword at Heo Gong.

It was a normal thrust. If he stayed calm, it was easy to block. Heo Gong raised his sword to block.

But at that moment.

Claaang!

“Guh!”

Chung Myung’s sword tip pierced and pushed away Heo Gong’s sword.

Heo Gong was embarrassed.

‘From, from this distance?’

The sword shouldn’t have reached yet. If his hand hadn’t moved, his neck would have been pierced.

It felt like the sword had become twice as long.

But now wasn’t the time to think.

Wham! Wham!

Thrusts flew at him, aiming for his entire body.

“Aaaargh!”

Heo Gong screamed and struck at Chung Myung’s sword like lightning.

But!

Clang! Clang!

Crack!

Chung Myung rose up and struck down on Heo Gong. He blocked it, but the blow was so powerful he heard bones breaking in his wrist.

Crack!

“You know what?”

“⋯⋯.”

Heo Gong widened his eyes as Chung Myung spoke.

‘He has the leisure to speak⋯⋯.’

“Blocking isn’t the end, you little brat.”

Chung Myung’s hand went down, pointing the sword tip upwards.

Thud!

He pushed away Heo Gong’s sword.

‘What?’

He used his strength to push the sword up.

‘This is Shaolin’s⋯⋯.’

Crack!

Chung Myung’s elbow hit Heo Gong’s face.