Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1332. Just remember that name (2)
Editor: Hoamzz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
Looking at the scene unfolding before his eyes, Go Yang's face turned deathly pale.
He was certainly someone accustomed to blood. Since the day he first held a sword, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he had seen blood more days than not.
Yet even he found the scene before him now unfamiliar.
The white cliffs that stood on either side of the gorge were dyed red as if deliberately painted, and the blood that painted them once belonged to none other than the subordinates he had painstakingly nurtured.
As he took in the mangled corpses strewn across the ground, Go Yang swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Of the hundred members of Blood Sword Platoon, over half had perished here in this gorge. No, in truth, among those who survived, almost half were barely clinging to life, merely waiting for the impending death.
There was only one word to describe this situation.
Annihilation. (괴멸(壞滅).)
One of Myriad Man Manor platoons, the Blood Sword Platoon, was annihilated here. The survivors numbered barely thirty. Calling them a ‘platoon’ at this point was almost laughable.
Though he had no warm feelings like cherishing those he had nurtured, seeing his subordinates' gruesome corpses did stir indescribable emotions.
He quietly gazed at the figure blocking the exit of the gorge, preventing them from escaping to the vast plains beyond.
One who single-handedly holds back not just the Blood Sword Platoon but also the thousand-strong armies of Myriad Man Manor.
It was none other than the figure of Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword.
Perhaps... this sight would become a legend, and beyond that, a myth, spoken of in Kangho for generations to come.
It might become the first tale brought up when future generations discuss Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword.
Even if Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword were to lay his bones here and become but a fleeting ghost, the heroic stature of his deeds wouldn't dim in the slightest.
No, perhaps his renown would grow even greater than if he were to return alive.
For at times, a hero’s legend was completed by their death.
Go Yang cannot help but acknowledge it. Even as an enemy, Chung Myung’s deeds and his path were undeniably great.
He came all the way to this distant land to save the isolated Hainan Sect and even single-handedly stopped the thousand-strong armies of Myriad Man Manor from pursuing Hainan Sect.
Even with just the plain facts without any exaggeration, it was impossible not to acknowledge this as a heroic act. Perhaps Go Yang was witnessing the birth of a legend that will be passed down through generations in Kangho.
And yet… in the figure before his eyes now, it was hard to find any grandeur or dignity one might expect of a hero or the protagonist of a myth.
His once neatly tied hair had become a wild mess, and his youthful face was smeared with his own blood and that of Evil Tyrant Alliance.
His left thigh was split open to the bone, and just left of his solar plexus was a clear mark where a sword had pierced through.
The makeshift bandaging on his side had come undone and was gushing dark blood, and a long cut was carved from his left neck to his armpit.
The wound on his right leg he had since he entered this place, the sword wound crossing his back invisible to the eye, and countless other minor wounds were too numerous to count.
Where could one find heroic stature in someone barely supporting himself with his sword planted in the ground, looking as if he might breathe his last at any moment?
Could such a sorry sight truly possess the greatness fit to adorn a myth?
This was no hero.
This was just a human.
A human being struggling, flailing, and screaming in desperation.
Here was no hero who could split mountains with one sword strike or shake the heavens with a roar. Here stood only a man paying a brutal price for what he had accomplished.
Ttok.
Blood trickled down from Chung Myung's chin. From his slightly parted lips leaked breaths so feeble they seemed about to stop at any moment.
Anyone could see he had already surpassed his limits.
He looked like a wounded beast, too injured to resist further. Even an ordinary soldier of Myriad Man Manor, let alone Blood Sword Platoon, could end the man’s life without much difficulty.
Yet the Blood Sword Platoon members, who found their greatest pleasure in ending prey's life, dared not to approach the wounded beast.
Go Yang didn’t blame them. No, he couldn’t blame them.
It was then.
Squeeze.
As Chung Myung clenched his sword tightly, the sound of friction echoed faintly. Pressing down on the sword embedded in the ground, he slowly straightened his bent body. It was like watching an old cart creaking.
Go Yang could only watch the sight in silence.
Blood flowed relentlessly down Chung Myung’s body as he finally stood upright. Her lips, visible through her disheveled hair, slowly parted.
He was trying to say something, but the sound barely came out.
No matter how hard he tried, his voice refused to come out easily. In the end, Chung Myung pressed his lips tightly together. As his lips met and then parted again, blood seeped from his terribly dried and cracking lips.
"...Ing..."
His cracked purple lips were now stained red with blood. The cracked lips soon opened again and a heavily hoarse and cracked voice barely flowed out, as if it might shatter at any moment.
"Shall we... keep going?"
The corners of his mouth barely lifted into a crooked smile.
Seeing that smile, Go Yang couldn’t bring himself to laugh in return. He unconsciously clenched his fist.
Then as if to prove they weren’t just empty words, Chung Myung's sword began to move.
Geureuk.
The sword embedded in the ground was pulled free.
Despite his trembling hands, Chung Myung somehow managed to lift the sword, and though he staggered briefly, he finally gripped the sword with both hands.
Go Yang's eyes wavered.
No one wouldn't understand what it meant for a sword master to struggle with the weight of their own sword. At least not one person here.
But still he intended to fight. And now Go Yang knew too. This was neither bluff nor desperation.
If he could lift a sword, he would fight. If life hadn't left him, he would resist.
What might be incomprehensible to others was, to the man, the most natural principle.
Duguen.
Go Yang clutched his lower abdomen tightly with his hand as a surge of pain hit him. The place where Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword had stabbed him, leaving a grotesque hole, was screaming in agony once more. The other injuries were no different. Go Yang had suffered numerous cuts from Chung Myung’s sword.
But Go Yang too, instead of retreating, gripped his sword more firmly and stepped forward.
To cut off the breath of Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword.
This was something he could yield to no one. It was a right that no one else but Go Yang must take, and it was compensation for what he had lost.
“...Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword.”
Go Yang slowly opened his mouth.
“You... you were really amazing.”
There wasn't a trace of sarcasm mixed in. It was pure admiration.
Even if their paths diverged, even if their pursued directions differed, Go Yang too was a sword master who wielded a sword. Thus he could not help but show respect.
“But… you carry far too much unnecessary baggage.”
If that Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword had been alone, free to retreat when he wanted and fight when he chose—
Could Blood Sword Platoon have caught Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword then?
No, they wouldn’t have. If Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword had fought alone, Blood Sword Platoon would have been the ones hunted, thoroughly and mercilessly.
They would have died miserably, screaming at the hopeless gap they couldn't narrow.
This meant that what was driving Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword to his death now were the very things he had sought to protect. Worthless things that, even all together, couldn't match Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword's value had driven him to death.
“That’s just too bad. Perhaps… you could have become like Ryeonju.”
Chung Myung gave no reply.
Perhaps he could not. His body was already like ashes, burned and spent.
What kept him standing was nothing but a spirit that refused to be extinguished.
Go Yang took a small step forward and gave a signal with a tilt of his chin. Two Blood Sword Platoon members, with tense faces, took positions behind Go Yang.
Of course, they knew Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword no longer had the strength to lift even a finger. But they had seen too much to allow the luxury of carelessness.
Wuuuung.
Go Yang channeled all of his remaining energy into his sword.
“At least let me kill you painlessly.”
Paaaaaaaat!
Just then, a piercing sound echoed from behind Chung Myung. Go Yang narrowed his eyes and looked ahead.
One of Mount Hua's female sword masters who had escaped the gorge was desperately sprinting back. The desperation etched on her face was so vivid it could be seen even from this distance.
But Go Yang had no intention of entertaining that desperation.
Because he had already learned painfully that not even the smallest variable should be carelessly allowed.
“Attack!”
Kwang!
Go Yang and the Blood Sword Platoon members surged Chung Myung with lightning speed. Yoo Iseol slammed her foot into the ground with all her remaining energy, but the enemies reached Chung Myung far faster than she could.
"N- No..."
Despair filled her eyes. Following that despair was a glimmer of hope.
No, perhaps vague expectations. It was a groundless conviction that Chung Myung wouldn’t fall so easily.
As if not to betray that expectation, Chung Myung’s sword was swung.
But it was neither sharp nor explosive as it had been. It was a feeble swing, unworthy of Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword, cutting weakly through the air before colliding with Go Yang’s sword.
Kaang!
With a short, high-pitched metallic sound, the Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword was pushed away by Go Yang’s sword.
Go Yang’s sword then thrust directly toward Chung Myung’s heart.
'Ah....'
His senses all became numb as if floating in murky water.
Yoo Iseol instinctively reached out her hand.
But her hand couldn't reach either Chung Myung or the thin sword flying toward him. It only clawed and grasped at empty air.
In this powerless world where she could do nothing, all she could see was Chung Myung’s back, bent unlike usual, and Go Yang lunging toward him.
Chung Myung's left shoulder flinched for a moment, and his hanging left hand stretched forward.
Yoo Iseol could tell. That every last drop of power he could squeeze out is mustered in that Bamboo Leaf Palm.
Even in this life-or-death moment, Chung Myung hadn’t given up.
Puuuk!
But then something hot splattered on Yoo Iseol's face.
Her vision turned red for an instant. Through it, she saw something that shouldn't be there on Chung Myung's back, bent powerlessly unlike usual.
It was Go Yang's thin sword.
The tip of the thin sword appeared to protrude from Chung Myung's back.
The scent of blood invaded her nose, and she felt something sticky flowing down her skin with warm heat.
Only as all this added up did Yoo Iseol fully realize the reality.
A piercing scream ripped from her throat.
“Chung Myung-aaaaaaahh!”
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