Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1413. If you really wanted it, you should have grasped it (2)
Editor: Hoamzz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
The mountain was given the name 'Qingcheng' because of its symbolic verdant greenery. The mountain was now dyed in colors utterly unbecoming of its name.
Lush foliage and ancient pavilions were consumed by a crimson flames, and the earth beyond the flames was drenched in blood darker than any fire could burn.
It was as if the world had been draped in a shroud of pure bloody malice (악의(惡意)).
In the midst of it all, Byeok Yeonja (벽현자(碧賢子)), the sect leader of Qingcheng, was out of breath.
"Heuft..."
Qingcheng was his hometown where he had spent his entire life, and was his everything. Yet now that Qingcheng was crumbling under enemy attack.
“Cough!”
Black-red blood gushed from his mouth. The holes in his chest and the deep gashes crisscrossing his body made his fate painfully clear.
But Byeok Yeonja felt not a trace of physical pain. Compared to the agony of watching Qingcheng burn, the place that was more important than his life, any pain felt in this mere body was as good as nonexistent.
“Cough! Cough!”
Spitting another mouthful of blood, he forced his heavy head up to stare ahead.
'Lee Byeok...'
His fellow disciple who had been with him throughout his life was already a cold corpse lying on the ground. The sight of his mutilated body shook Byeok Yeonja’s heart with indescribable grief and fury.
"Aaaaaaaaaark!"
"Aark! S- Save... Aaaaaaaaaark!"
Someone's desperate scream was heard from afar.
Screams so intense they seemed to lacerate his very eardrums. His beloved disciples, whom he wouldn’t even mind holding close to his eyes, were meeting their ends under the vile invaders’ cold blades.
But Byeok Yeonja had no strength left to run to their aid.
No one escaped this tragedy. Though his youngest disciples had been sent away at the last possible moment, fleeing desperately under Neung Ha-un’s (능하운(能夏雲)) guidance, there was no guarantee they would evade the clutches of those fiends.
This was the end.
Yes, the end.
Qingcheng, a prestigious sect of Sichuan with a long and storied history, would meet its demise today. Not at the hands of Magyo or Imperial Palace, but at the hands of these lowly Evil Sects bastard.
'How...'
How on earth did it come to this?
Why was Qingcheng burning?
Why have they come here?
They thought they could simply watch the war on the Yangtze from afar like a bystander, so why have the blades of Evil Sects fallen upon this place?
"Heu... Heheu..."
Byeok Yeonja let out a sound between a laugh and a sob, staring blankly into space.
The main gate of Sangcheong Palace, the symbol of Qingcheng, was burning in the flames. Not a gate leading to a tranquil Taoist temple, but like the gates of hell opening wide.
And through that burning gate, a man slowly revealed himself.
A man wearing a robe that fluttered with a ferocious aura, as red as the blood soaking Qingcheng and as fierce as the flames consuming it.
A man who had adorned his entire body with lavish ornaments that didn't match this gruesome scene at all.
Step.
A twisted smile hung on the man's lips.
The sight of someone who had decorated himself flamboyantly like a jester entering through the burning gate was overwhelming enough to capture even Byeok Yeonja's gaze, which had nearly turned dazed with grief and anger.
“Jang....”
Suddenly, Byeok Yeonja felt as though everything around him were part of a grand play.
This entire scene, the one walking within it, and even himself kneeling before the man, seemed like a scene from a Peking opera rather than reality. It was both tragic and absurd.
“Jang… Ilso…”
Maybe it really is nothing more than an opera.
Wherever Jang Ilso stepped, things like this happened. Because he shattered the reality that ordinary people conceived, and only events resembling scenes from a play unfolded.
“Jang Ilsooooooo!”
A beast-like wail burst from Byeok Yeonja's lips. Containing all his sorrow for the dying, his despair at an unacceptable reality, and his hatred for the orchestrator of this entire tragedy.
But even at the gut‑wrenching scream, Jang Ilso showed no particular reaction. He only deepened his smile.
"J- Jang Il..."
Byeok Yeonja's hands trembled violently.
The calamity standing before him wavered in his vision.
The flames devour everything behind him, the disaster’s blood-red robe, the extravagant ornaments, even those crimson lips.
Byeok Yeonja looked into Jang Ilso’s eyes.
In fact, Jang Ilso's eyes were calm and serene. There was none of the madness or exhilaration that murderers often displayed, and they even appeared somewhat melancholic.
How should one understand that the gaze of the man who orchestrated this terrible slaughter was the most serene of all?
"Heuuuuu... Heu..."
Anger, sorrow, fear, and pain tangled together, leaking out in sobbing whimpers.
Jang Ilso looked down at Byeok Hyeonja, collapsed and covered in wounds.
Surely, a caustic mockery or derision would pour forth. They had no other relationship that would warrant anything else.
But shockingly, Jang Ilso’s reaction was nothing like Byeok Yeonja expected.
He... smiled brightly.
Not a trace of malice. No, perhaps it should be explained as having no pretens. With a warm smile completely free of mockery, Jang Ilso spoke kindly.
"Now that I think about it... We're old acquaintances, aren't we, Sect Leader? We’ve been on good terms. Right. Have you been well?"
At the kind and gentle greeting, Byeok Yeonja's fingertips scraped the ground with a crunch.
No mockery or ridicule in the world can cause a person so much pain. No, not even a poisoned dagger plunged into his lungs would have been this painful. At least such a dagger would not shatter the soul.
“Why....”
Byeok Yeonja released his tightly bitten lower lip and opened his mouth. Blood trickled from his torn lips.
“Why.... Why are you here? Why?”
“Hmm?”
"You who should be at the Yangtze, why! Why are you here! Why Qingcheng of all places! Why! How! Why us! Why! Whyyyyyyyyy! Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"
The beast-like howl of despair echoed through Qingcheng. Jang Ilso stared blankly at Byeok Yeonja, as if he found it amusing.
“Why....”
He muttered for a moment and then chuckled.
"Hmm, I wonder why?"
“....”
“It’s a little difficult to answer. There isn’t really any reason. I just felt like doing it. Would that count as an answer?”
“Ugh....”
Tears of blood streamed from Byeok Yeonja’s eyes.
Could there be such a polite and affectionate mockery? This demon extends no mercy even to those gasping their last breath. He merely ridicules thoroughly.
"J- Jang Ilso.... Jang Ilsooooooooooooooo!”
"Oh my, oh my. You seem quite furious. But truly, there’s no particular reason."
Jang Ilso stepped a little closer to Byeok Yeonja.
"However, if I must provide a reason, perhaps there is one."
"...What is it?"
Jang Ilso's voice drilled into every fiber of Byeok Yeonja’s ear.
“Because you’re weak.”
“....”
"Because you're the weakest. I can trample on you without taking any risks. Like the tender nape of a lamb, a mere bite is enough to cut your throat effortlessly.”
"Y- You..."
"Do I need any other reason?"
Tears of blood poured from Byeok Yeonja’s eyes. Flames danced and even the flickering shadows made his face look as demonic as one might imagine.
All the Taoist teachings he had upheld his entire life were meaningless in this moment.
All that remained was a seething hatred and fury.
"Uaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Byeok Yeonja swung his sword with all his might. Toward that demon's pale white neck.
Kwadeuk!
But before that, Jang Ilso's hand pierced Byeok Hyeonja's chest.
Byeok Yeonja’s eyes widened as he slowly looked down at his chest. Crimson blood trickled steadily down the white wrist that impaled his chest.
Jang Ilso said.
"You should have known."
“....”
"That there are no safe places left in this Kangho."
Byeok Yeonja's body trembled like an aspen.
“Of course, I take pleasure in it. Cowards like you. Those who sit back and enjoy the blood spilled by others. Those who arrive late only to mournfully gather the rewards built on another’s suffering. Aren’t such people the truest of humans?"
It was shattering.
Not just his body. Even his mind is being thoroughly shattered at this moment.
"Only, it's disgusting."
“....”
"That complacency believing the flames will pass you by even while plainly seeing the world burn, that disgusts me. When I see such people, I want to burn them myself.”
Jang Ilso smiled radiantly.
"That's the only reason. How about it? Isn't that sufficient now that you've heard it?"
Byeok Yeonja's trembling hands struggled to rise, clutching at Jang Ilso's wrist embedded in his chest.
“Gho- Ghost....”
“Hmm?”
"E- Even if... I become... a vengeful ghost... you alone... I will... curse... c- curse... Qingcheng's... grudge..."
The corners of Jang Ilso's mouth twitched at the blood-stained words that Byeok Yeonja had spoken with all his might.
"Ha... Hahahahah! Hahahahahahahahahaha!"
Then he burst into deranged laughter.
"Why do the words of those who can't accomplish anything always sound the same! It all ends when you die."
Udeuk!
Jang Ilso's remaining hand grabbed Byeok Yeonja's hair.
“If you had the power to curse me as a vengeful ghost, you should have bitten me wile still alive! If you wanted something, you shouldn't have waited but fought! If you truly wanted it, you should have grasped it!"
Looking into Byeok Yeonja's dimming eyes, Jang Ilso twisted his face grotesquely and laughed.
“But now you have such opportunity.”
Udeudeuk!
Jang Ilso's hand tore free from his chest in one brutal motion. Blood trailed like a brutal brushstroke across the ground.
Byeok Yeonja's body collapsed slowly.
Thud.
His breath stopped, yet his eyes remained open.
Qingcheng, one of Ten Great Sects and a renowned sect of Sichuan. It was an utterly wretched death unbecoming of Qingcheng sect leader.
Kwadeuk!
Jang Ilso stomped on Byeok Yeonja's head, crushing it halfway, then lightly brushed the blood from his hand.
“Hmm.”
He slowly looked around.
Everything was burning.
The mountain. The pavilions. The people.
The once‑verdant peak when he climbed was no longer there. The pavilions had lost their past glory and collapsed, and the mountain, reduced to ashes, would never regain its form.
A smile of utmost satisfaction spread across Jang Ilso's lips. In the night sky the waning moon hung like his own cruel grin.
"Quite the spectacle, don't you think? Hm?"
The red robe hem fluttered madly. It looked almost like raging flames.
"Hahahahat. Hahahahahahahat! Ahahahahahahahahahat!"
A conflagration rose to consume the world.
It was a blood-red flame bearing the name Jang Ilso.
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