Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1297. Is there a place to rest on this earth? (2)
Editor: Hoamzz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
"Uaaaargh! You damned Righteous Sects bastard!"
“Dieeeeeeee!”
A thunderbolt-like slash flew toward the neck of the man charging with bloodshot eyes.
Sogok!
The sharp strike left only a faint cutting sound. It was as if even the act of slicing through flesh and bone and separating head from body was an insignificant task for the blade.
Sogok, sogok!
The sword that severed the heart continued its flow and sliced effortlessly through the tendons of the enemy's elbow and wrist. A person can still move for a moment even with their heart cut.
How many had died because they assumed victory and showed their back upon slicing the heart, only to be stabbed in the back in return?
There was no room for thought.
It was the experience layered like paint over instinct embedded in the sword's edge and fingertips that naturally guiding the blade.
Paaaat!
As another enemy charged forward with a scream, Chung Myung's sword reacted faster than his head could process the danger.
Kagakak!
For the first time, Chung Myung hesitated instead of cutting through and advancing in one go as he had until now. He stared blankly at the sword embedded halfway into the enemy's neck.
"Krr… urrk… krrrk…"
Above the trembling blade, the enemy's half-extinguished eyes stared back. Fear was seeping through them.
As if sensing his impending end.
The eyes full of fear soon changed to resentment. Chung Myung tightened his grip on his sword and yanked it free.
Kagagagak!
The sword scraped against bone as it was withdrawn. Blood spurted out like a fountain.
"Krrgh…"
The enemy collapsed lifelessly face-first onto the ground. The eyes that couldn't even close held nothing anymore. The dull and empty eyes reflected the world vacantly.
Chung Myung glanced down at the fallen body with indifferent eyes before turning his gaze to his sword.
Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword.
The blade wasn't damaged. It was merely dulled by layers of greasy residue from the countless enemies he had cut. Layer upon layer, the oil from his enemies’ bodies had built up on the blade. Just like the layers of resentment they had directed at him.
His past self would tend the sword before it became damaged like this, but it seemed his senses hadn't recovered to that level yet.
Paaaat!
His internal strength surged through Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword instantly burning away the layers of grease coating its blade. Chung Myung raised his head and fixed his gaze ahead.
The forest before him looked ordinary, yet it was no longer the forest people once knew. The fresh scent of grass was smothered by the thick stench of blood, and the serene silence where the sound of insects and the occasional sound of grasshoppers should have been heard was now noisy with harsh screams.
In this suffocating space, heavy with the scent of blood and the stifling pressure of murderous intent, Chung Myung felt an unavoidable sense of familiarity.
That realization suddenly disgusted him.
‘How much farther must we go?’
The heaviness that started in his hands spread throughout his entire body. Whether it was from expending his internal strength or sheer fatigue, the world around him was beginning to hazy. A sensation familiar yet impossible to ever feel truly acquainted with.
Chung Myung gritted his teeth.
Magyo was akin to an elite force. Each of their cultists possessed power far beyond that of ordinary martial artists. And among these elites, the power of their chosen bishops shook heaven and made the earth tremble.
But this battle was different from the wars he had fought against Magyo in the past.
No matter how much he cut, it never ends.
Each one wasn't particularly strong. No, from Chung Myung's perspective, they were so weak they could almost be ignored. If it weren't for having to lead Hainan Sect, if Heavenly Comrade Alliance moved independently, they would have already broken through more than half of Gangnam.
But these insignificant weaklings swarmed like mosquitoes.
They did not charge recklessly with disregard for their lives like Magyo. They did not possess the zeal of those willing to become martyrs for their faith.
Even though they were trembling with fear and not knowing what to do because due to terror, they ultimately charged forward with screams. Cutting down such enemies felt filthier than any battle Chung Myung had ever fought.
"Huu...."
Chung Myung exhaled deeply and turned his gaze behind.
Those wielding dao still desperately charged at Hainan Sect. But unlike before, the disciples don’t back down. They had come to understand through their bodies and blood what it meant to fight for survival.
"Uaaaaaaaa!"
Warm blood splattered on the face of Hainan Sect disciple burying his sword into the enemy's chest. On the face completely soaked red, only distorted eyes and clenched teeth were clearly visible.
Chivalry. Righteousness. Perhaps even heroism (웅심 (雄心).).
Were the things they hoped to gain on this land still intact? Did they even realize what they looked like now?
War was like a terrible abyss that pushes all the shining things people hold within themselves deep into the darkness, to depths where no human hand can reach.
What remained afterward were the most primal emotions—an unyielding will to survive and a seething hatred.
"Dieeeeee!"
Swords continued to stab into a body whose heart had already stopped beating.
It wasn't just because they lacked the composure to assess their enemy's condition. Even if the enemy’s head had been severed, those swords would still have stabbed into the lifeless corpse.
An expression of hatred, or perhaps fear.
The things that had kept humans from being mere beasts gradually sink deeper.
People who once spoke of chivalry become beasts consumed by evil to fight. People who would have offered food to the starving now plunged swords into lifeless bodies and screamed in rage.
This was the battlefield Chung Myung knew.
"Aahhhhh!"
"Sahyung!"
Everyone has their own sense of justice, their own perspective. But none of that mattered here.
When your body was pierced by an enemy’s sword, when your comrade bled out in front of you, reason loses its power.
“These damn fucking dogs! I’ll kill every last one of you!"
Only malice (악의(惡意)) remains and expands endlessly.
A malice that won't be satisfied without plunging a sword into the enemy's heart... No. A malice that won't be satisfied even after the sword is plunged deep.
"Uaaaaaah!"
One of Hainan Sect disciples let out a monstrous scream and lunged forward, stabbing his treasured sword into the enemy's throat with every ounce of strength he had left.
The sword that dug into the neck pierced through the nape and came out soaked with blood.
Murder (살인(殺人)) was something no one can easily become accustomed to, nor should anyone ever become accustomed to it. Yet even after committing murder with his own hands just moments ago, his eyes showed no trace of hesitation or guilt.
Instead, he pushed his sword in deeper, gritting his teeth and screaming as he continued to charge forward.
"Sohyeop!"
Yoon Jong reached out and grabbed the man's shoulder.
"Let go!"
Yoon Jong tightened his grip as the man tried to shake him off and move forward. The sudden pain made the man snap his head around, his eyes blazing with a murderous glare.
Yoon Jong sh met that killing intent head-on without being intimidated in the slightest and shouted.
"Calm yourself! You’ll die if you lose control!"
"Ugh...."
The man bit his trembling lips and turned his gaze away. His eyes landed on his fallen sahyung who was lying motionless in a pool of blood. Only then did his hands begin to tremble.
"Sa- Sahyung! Are you alright?"
"Euhh....”
“Physician! Physician, here! Someone's dying here! Here!"
"Calm down! He won't die from this!"
“Haewon (해원(海院)) died like this! You said he wouldn't die then too!"
The words that burst out like an uncontrollable spasm silenced nearby disciples.
"How can I believe you...? How am I supposed to believe that...?"
Gripping his fallen sahyung’s blood-soaked robes, he began to sob uncontrollably before screaming again in hysteria.
“Physician! Physician...!”
"I’m here so stop screaming!"
Drenched in blood, Tang Soso arrived in a rush and immediately assessing the situation before sprinkling hemostatic powder onto the gaping wound. Her movements were calm yet swift.
"Here! Hold this! We must stop the bleeding! Hold it tight so not a single drop of blood passes through!"
"Yes!"
Tang Soso gritted her teeth.
‘He’s lost too much blood.’
There were no tears. No, more accurately, there were no tears left to shed. She had already cried them all out.
She wasn’t used to death either. She had seen patients die in the past. But this was practically her first experience of watching numerous perfectly healthy people rapidly dying, and unable to do anything about it despite being a physician.
So many deaths came in such a short period of time that she had no time to grow accustomed. Of course, who could remain calm amidst the deaths of their comrades? But in a situation where not only the wounded but also everyone around them was desperately relying on her alone, the weight on Tang Soso's shoulders was crushing.
It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t stop the coming death. Tang Soso knew this fact too. But understanding something with the head doesn't mean the heart can accept it immediately.
To Tang Soso… it felt as though every single death was entirely her fault.
"I said press hard, damn it!"
"Yes! Yes! Understood!"
She gritted her teeth and smeared adhesive onto the wound. Normally she would have finished by stitching it, but there was no time for that now. The special adhesive crafted by Tang Family would at least prevent the wound from reopening for a while.
For now, stopping the bleeding was all she could do. Proper treatment would have to wait.
"That's done! Move him inside!"
"Yes!"
Only then did those around them sigh in relief as they lifted the fallen disciple.
‘This isn’t good…’
Tang Soso's face darkened.
A life had been saved, but this meant one more wounded. The more wounded who couldn't move properly increased, the more their movement speed would inevitably decrease. Fewer people would be able to fight, and more would be needed to carry the injured.
One person’s death simply meant the loss of a single combatant, but an injured person consumed even more manpower.
It was a vicious cycle. The more injured there were, the slower they would move, and the slower they moved, the more enemies would block their path.
And all the while, the main forces of Myriad Man Manor were steadily closing in on them.
“Soso, are you…”
Thwack!
"Wh- What!"
Jo-Gol was about to check on her but flinched and stared wide-eyed at Tang Soso. A thin stream of blood trickled down from her split lip.
What truly shocked Jo-Gol was that it was none other than Tang Soso herself who had slapped herself across the face so hard that her lip burst open.
"W- Why did you do that?"
"No, it's fine."
"What…."
"I'm alright. My mind's clear now, I must have gone a bit crazy for a moment. Thinking about this kind of thing."
Jo-Gol couldn’t bring himself to ask what those thoughts were. One look at Tang Soso's expression would silence anyone.
Besides, now wasn’t the time for questions.
"We should go."
"Yes, we should."
Jo-Gol nodded and gritted his teeth.
How many had he cut?
How many had he killed?
And when would this path finally end?
As the battle continued without a break, his extremely sharpened nerves felt like they were gradually piercing into his brain.
At that moment, Jo-Gol flinched violently. He sensed something approaching from the front and immediately roared.
"They’re coming! And they’re not just fodder!"
No sooner had those words ended than a group wearing red martial robes poured out from the thick bushes like wolves rushing toward deer.
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