Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 944

The magistrate’s face went completely white.

“H-How can this be?” he whispered.

He stared at the ships coming closer. He wanted to believe it wasn’t real, even though he could see them clearly.

*How could this happen?* he thought.

How could both the Shaolin ships and the Myriad Man Clan ships arrive at the same time?

*Could it be luck?*

Luck? No. He didn’t believe in luck like that. It felt like fate was playing a cruel trick, trying to make him feel even more despair. It was as if the sky itself had planned this to hurt him.

The magistrate was sure this was not just luck.

The reason was simple: the one leading the ships was none other than the Hegemon.

Hegemon, Jang Il-so.

The one who had shown chilling schemes since the Jang River Catastrophe. The magistrate could never forget the shivers he felt upon hearing news of the Jang River from distant Henan.

Coincidence? There was no such thing as coincidence for Jang Il-so. Absolutely not!

“M-Master!”

Even as the magistrate stared, as if frozen, at the ships, they were getting closer to Plum Blossom Island.

“Master!”

Beopgye called out to the magistrate again, his voice urgent. His worry cut through the magistrate’s thoughts.

“If we wait any longer, it will be too late! If those ships reach Plum Blossom Island…”

It wasn’t as if the magistrate didn’t understand what Beopgye meant.

Namgoong was already at their limit. They were weaker than a candle flame in a strong wind. If the Myriad Man Clan arrived at Plum Blossom Island before the Shaolin in that state, the result was obvious, wasn’t it?

They had to go to Plum Blossom Island right away, before those ships blocked their path.

“We must arrive first! Before the Myriad Man Clan!”

The ships were fast, but still far away. If they jumped into the water now, they could arrive first. The pirates who could stop them on and under the water were busy on Plum Blossom Island. So, they still had a chance. At least, that’s what Beopgye thought.

But…

“…Arrive… and then?”

“Yes?”

At the magistrate’s words, Beopgye turned back, confused.

The magistrate looked back and forth between the ships and Plum Blossom Island, his face frozen.

“If we…”

He paused. The silence felt like forever to Beopgye.

“…If we arrive at that island first, what will happen?”

“Well…”

Beopgye couldn’t answer easily.

Was it because he had no answer?

No. It was because he sensed something in the magistrate’s voice he had never heard before.

“…Why is Namgoong in such a state? Isn’t it because they couldn’t escape that island?”

“But Master! If we leave them, Namgoong will be destroyed!”

Destroyed.

The word clearly bothered the magistrate. His shoulders trembled slightly.

But…

The magistrate gritted his teeth and bit his lip. Red blood ran down his chin and onto the ground. He dug his toes into the earth. He spoke.

“Fall back.”

“M-Master!”

“Did you not hear me? Fall back! All Shaolin disciples, move away from the river! Wait here!”

“Master! What are you saying…!”

“Can’t you be quiet!”

Beopgye cried out, but the magistrate scolded him.

“Ugh…”

Unable to disobey, Beopgye groaned with regret.

To him, Namgoong wasn’t just one of the Five Great Clans. They were friends who had suffered together during the Jang River Catastrophe. And now, his master was telling him to watch those friends be killed.

The magistrate’s fingers trembled.

It was clear he didn’t make this decision easily.

“…If we go to Plum Blossom Island now, we will fall into the Hegemon’s trap. Maybe this whole thing is his plan to trick Shaolin.”

Beopgye wanted to ask: If the Hegemon planned this, why didn’t he attack them after they arrived at Plum Blossom Island, instead of showing himself first?

But Beopgye couldn’t say the words. He was afraid the other disciples would hear. He thought his words might reveal the magistrate’s true intentions.

*I don’t want to know. I don’t want to find out,* he thought.

“We… Shaolin…”

The magistrate made his decision, his lips stained with blood.

“Will… watch what happens from here.”

His last words were barely audible. But everyone knew what he had decided, even if they didn’t hear it clearly.

“…Amitabha.”

The Buddhist prayer was clear and painful to the Shaolin disciples, who couldn’t bear to look at the island.

Namgoong Hwang stared blankly across the river.

He could see the Shaolin clearly. They looked like they were about to jump into the water to save them, but instead, they were moving back and forming lines.

“What…”

What are they doing?

Why are they stopping? What could they be doing?

“Why…?”

Someone muttered. It was quiet.

A terrible silence fell on the island. It was hard to believe that just moments ago, people had been fighting like mad animals.

“Why… Why aren’t they coming?”

“What on earth…”

Even then, the Namgoong Clan swordsmen still had a little hope. There must be a reason, they thought. They were delayed, but soon the Shaolin would cross the river to help them.

They believed it.

No, they had to believe it.

Even Namgoong Hwang didn’t doubt that the Shaolin would cross the river to save them.

But…

“W-What are those ships?”

Someone said, and the words spread quickly.

Everyone looked away from the Shaolin and saw the ships coming toward the island.

At that moment, everyone understood what was happening. It was a feeling, not a thought.

The Namgoong Clan’s eyes shook. Filled with disbelief and fear, they slowly looked back at the other side of the river. They trembled, afraid to see the truth.

But the truth always comes.

When they looked at the Shaolin again, they saw it. The Shaolin were staying away from the riverbank, keeping their distance.

What made the Namgoong Clan despair wasn’t that the Shaolin were stepping back, as if they wouldn’t come.

It was the look in their eyes.

The Shaolin monks, who should have been watching them with fierce eyes, weren’t looking at all.

They weren’t looking because they were ashamed.

The Shaolin, who were seen as leaders in the martial world, were hanging their heads like criminals. They couldn’t even look at Namgoong, even from a distance.

How could they not know what was happening!

Even a fool would know.

They… had been abandoned.

“Ugh…”

“Uh…”

Hope leads to the greatest despair.

People don’t despair when there is no hope. They expect it.

But people who find a little hope try hard to hold onto it.

And when they realize that hope is just a dream, they fall apart.

“Ugh… Ugh…”

A huge, terrible despair began to swallow the Namgoong Clan.

The fact that their trusted friends had abandoned them, that the Shaolin were ignoring their deaths, sent them into a despair they had never felt before.

“Ugh…”

A groan, like a wounded animal panting, escaped their lips.

Maybe it wasn’t so different. They were wounded animals, and all that was left was death. With the Shaolin gone, all that was left was falling.

They didn’t want to fight anymore. Their arms and legs felt heavy. They just wanted to give up.

Frustration made them want to give up. Everyone was being pulled into a dark, terrible place.

But, even then, one person was angry instead of despairing.

“Beopjeoooooong!”

Namgoong Hwang, the wounded tiger, shouted.

“Beopjeong! Beopjeooooong! Aargh!!”

He screamed, his voice hoarse. The blood vessels in his eyes burst.

At that moment, when everyone was groaning in despair…

Finally, he arrived. The one who saw all this despair as a joke.

Boom!

The large warship crashed into the sand.

Namgoong and the Suro Clan, even Namgoong Hwang and the Black Dragon King, watched.

“Hmm.”

A low voice flowed out. It was quiet, but everyone on the island heard it.

Soon, a person appeared, walking lightly.

Namgoong Hwang stared at him, his eyes red.

It was the one who had laughed at them in the Jang River three years ago.

He hadn’t changed.

He wore a fancy red robe with strange gold designs. His skin was white, his hair was perfect, and he wore a fancy crown and too many accessories.

Tap.

Jang Il-so jumped lightly from the ship to the land and stood up straight.

Jingle.

The sound of his accessories brought back memories of three years ago. It awakened nightmares and fear.

Namgoong Hwang looked at Jang Il-so’s lips.

“How strange.”

Jang Il-so spoke softly, his face friendly.

“It’s been a while, but you don’t seem happy to see me.”

His lips were as red as blood, and he smiled. His words felt terrible.

Namgoong Hwang squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m very… glad to see you, though. Haha!”

And he thought:

It would have been better to die at the hands of the Black Dragon King, than to be played with by this demon…