Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 954

“Strength,” Namgung Dowi whispered, his voice tight. He bit his lip hard, tasting blood.

“Be strong… just a little longer…” He focused all his energy, desperately gripping the hand that felt colder and weaker in his. He knew it was hopeless. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop what was coming.

This had happened before. Too many times.

A hand, stained dark with dried blood, trembled as it reached for his face.

“Young Master…” Jin whispered, his voice weak.

“Yes, Jin,” Namgung Dowi replied softly. “Just a little more strength and help will come. If we just hold on a little longer, we can get back home! Just until then… Strength…”

Namgung Dowi’s face twisted in agony.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop his face from contorting.

They both knew it was a lie. A hopeless lie.

But Namgung Dowi desperately clung to that obvious lie. Because there was nothing else he could do.

“So… Young… Master…”

“Namgung Jin…”

“Mu-must… survive…”

“…”

Namgung Dowi’s hand trembled.

He should be used to it by now. How many had he seen off like this? But he never got used to it. The cold, wretched feeling of warmth and strength leaving the hand he held was as painful as the first time, no matter how many times he felt it.

“I… I want to see… Namgung… just one more… time…”

Namgung Jin’s eyes glazed over as he struggled to speak. At the same time, the strength slipped from the hand Namgung Dowi was holding.

“Namgung Jin!”

“Namgung Jin! You bastard!”

A loud cry came from the others watching nearby. Someone sobbed, anger rising in their voice. It was a desperate cry.

But Namgung Dowi just bowed his head, resting his forehead on Namgung Jin’s blood-stained chest.

‘I mustn’t cry.’

Blood trickled from his bitten lip. But Namgung Dowi could shed blood for Namgung Jin, but not tears.

Because the moment he showed tears, everyone would collapse.

With bloodshot eyes, Namgung Dowi clenched his fists as if he would tear up the ground.

Couldn’t I have saved him?

Could I really not have saved him?

He wouldn’t have died if he had received proper treatment from a proper physician in time. No, if they had just had some of the family’s healing potions, they could have saved him, or at least helped.

But there was nothing here.

No one to heal them, no elixirs to prolong their lives.

All there was was this empty land, this endless, cold river. And…

Namgung Dowi raised his head sharply, his eyes filled with resentment. And he glared at the ships of the Evil Faction that surrounded the island, and at the Righteous Sects who were watching the scene across the river as if it were a fire across the water.

“Ugh…”

His anger wasn’t just for the Evil Faction. It was also for the Nine Great Sects watching from across the river.

He knew.

All of this was the fault of the Namgung Clan. It was not right to shift the blame to others. The Namgung Clan had to bear the responsibility for the countless deaths.

But even so…

Grind.

Namgung Dowi gritted his teeth.

He wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t so loud and proud. They talked about protecting everyone and doing what’s right. But where was that now?

What were they doing while people who fought for everyone were dying here, on this cold island?

“Ugh…”

At that moment, Namgung Dowi heard a sound that caught his attention. It was the groan of someone else who was suffering from injuries.

He let out a long breath through his chapped lips. And he slowly reached out and closed Namgung Jin’s eyes, then rose to his feet.

He stared down at Namgung Jin in silence, then opened his mouth in a dry voice.

“Take his body,” Namgung Dowi said, his voice flat.

“…Young Master.”

“I know how you feel. But there are still those who are not well. If we have time to grieve for their deaths, we should use it to save the living.”

But none of the Namgung Clan swordsmen with their red eyes argued.

Namgung Dowi was particularly close to Namgung Jin. The way his shoulders trembled showed how he felt when he said those words.

Namgung Dowi turned and walked away.

“Young Master…”

Someone started to call out to him, but then stopped. Because he knew that Namgung Dowi desperately needed time alone.

Namgung Dowi, who had walked weakly to the riverbank, collapsed to the ground.

The Evil Faction ships didn’t seem to care about what was happening on Plum Blossom Island. They moved slowly, staying in place. Further away, across the river, were the ships of the Nine Great Sects.

Turning around, he saw Namgung Jin’s body being moved. He also saw those who were treating the injured who couldn’t come to their senses. Their hands were gentle, but weak, as they treated the injured.

It was understandable.

They were losing hope. They feared everything they did was pointless.

How many more days were left?

Three days? Two days?

A hollow laugh escaped through his chapped lips.

Soon, the Myriad Man House and the Waterway Company might attack Plum Blossom Island together. Namgung Dowi knew they would be too weak to fight back properly. They would just die.

Jang Il-so had given them five days. But they wouldn’t get stronger in that time. They would only get weaker, more tired and thirsty.

“Ugh…”

Namgung Dowi roughly rubbed his parched face. His hands, digging into his face, showed his pain.

He knew.

They would not help Namgung. Not only Namgung Dowi, but everyone knew that.

But what was truly maddening was this: even though he knew they wouldn’t help, he couldn’t completely give up hope.

“Hoo…”

A sound escaped him, somewhere between a groan and a sob. He stared across the river with bloodshot eyes.

“…What does it feel like?”

His muttering voice seemed to be stained with the smell of blood.

“What does it feel like to watch this from over there…?”

He wanted to ask.

He wanted to ask so badly.

Did they know what it felt like to have a family member who had been face to face with them until yesterday die before their eyes, or what it felt like to be unable to give even a little help while watching someone’s flesh rot and cry out in pain?

Perhaps Namgung Dowi would have been the same.

If he hadn’t been here, seen this suffering, felt this pain, he might have been like them. He might have been thinking only about what was best for his family, not about helping others.

But now he knew.

Treating people like they were things to be used… he knew now how wrong that was. Anyone who had lost everything would understand. *Huuu…* What could he do now? It was too late to change the past.

Tears ran down Namgung Dowi’s face. He felt like he would fall. Suddenly, he put his hand on the ground to stop himself. His eyes, empty and without hope just moments before, opened wide.

“Wait… what?”

His vision was blurry with tears, but he could see *something*. He rubbed his eyes hard and looked again across the river.

*Crack!* Namgung Dowi bit his lip, pain sharpening his mind. The Nine Great Sects were too busy fighting to notice anything else. But Namgung Dowi, watching from the riverbank, saw it clearly. Far away, on the riverbank, someone in green clothes was watching them. Observing.

*Green clothes… Tang Family!*

Yes, it was the Sichuan Tang Family. A Tang Family warrior. They were supposed to be gone from the Yangtze River. Why were they here? Namgung Dowi squeezed his leg.

“No, it can’t be…”

Maybe it was just one person, just checking things out. But…

Namgung Dowi stayed still as stone, watching the Tang warrior. The man looked carefully at the fighting, at Plum Blossom Island, at everything. Then, he turned and walked away. After a moment, Namgung Dowi stood up, feeling like he was in a dream. He stared at the empty space where the man had been, wondering if he had really seen it.

‘If the Tang Family is here… that means…’

Slowly, he turned back towards his people. As he walked, he saw the island.

“Stay strong, you fool! Don’t die!” someone yelled.

“Damn it… why is this happening to us?” another cried.

Coughs and sobs filled the air. People were dying every day, losing hope. Even those helping the injured were angry and bitter. The smell was terrible – rotting blood, dead bodies. And something else, a heavy smell of sadness and despair. Namgung Dowi kept walking.

“This is stupid,” he thought. He knew it. ‘It might not work. It might make things worse.’ He knew that too.

‘So why am I doing this?’ The answer was simple. He couldn’t just do nothing and wait to die. He had to protect these people. He was the young lord of the Namgung Clan. His steps became faster. Soon, he stood in front of his father, Namgung Hwang. His father looked like he had aged ten years in just days. His face was lined with worry and exhaustion.

Namgung Dowi looked at his father. Namgung Hwang leaned against a broken rock, his eyes closed. He had used all his energy to heal the wounded. Sadness and worry were deeply written on his face. It was a weight that seemed to crush him. He felt someone watching him and slowly opened his eyes. He looked at Namgung Dowi.

“…What is it?”

Namgung Dowi kept looking at his father.

“You said before,” Dowi began, “that if you really wanted to, you could escape this island.”

Namgung Hwang shook his head slowly.

“I’m not leaving.” He smiled sadly. “Where would I go, leaving everyone here? I’m the head of the Namgung Clan. I’ll stay with them. And…” He coughed, a dry, painful sound. “Maybe it was possible then, but not now. Not anymore.”

“Not alone,” Dowi said firmly.

Namgung Hwang looked up, surprised.

“…What are you saying?”

Namgung Dowi’s eyes were hard now, full of purpose.

“Father, it’s impossible for you alone. But if you and the elders work together, you could send one person away.”

“…Dowi?”

“Jang Il-so is from the Unorthodox Faction, but he keeps his promises. He wants something from us. He won’t let us all escape, but he won’t attack us if one person leaves. We have a chance to send someone out.”

Namgung Dowi spoke clearly, “Please, Clan Leader, send *me*. Send me to the mainland.”

His eyes were filled with determination and a fierce anger.

“Even if it’s dangerous, even if I might die, please save me. Let me go and get help.”

Namgung Hwang looked at his son, his face pale. He saw something new in Dowi’s eyes. A father always knows when his son becomes a man. This was that moment. So, Namgung Hwang didn’t ask why Dowi was doing this, or why it had to be him. It didn’t matter.

“…What will it cost?” he asked finally. “You said it yourself. We, the elders, will risk everything. What price do we pay to give up even one life, when we are trying to protect everyone?”

Namgung Dowi’s eyes were steady and strong. Something Namgung Hwang had lost, but now saw in his son.

“Hope,” Dowi said.

“Is that not enough?”

Silence. Then, Namgung Hwang smiled, a small, real smile this time.

“Not enough?” he repeated softly. “It’s more than enough.”

Namgung Hwang stood up, slowly at first, then with more strength. His own eyes began to shine with a new resolve, just like his son’s.

“…It is enough.” He put a strong hand on Namgung Dowi’s shoulder.