Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1539. It'll be okay (4)
Editor: Hoamz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. It's virtually impossible to excel in every field.
Of course, very rarely some transcend the limits of ordinary humans and distinguish themselves in various fields. The world calls such people 'geniuses,' but if you dig deeper, even those geniuses certainly have their weaknesses and limitations.
It was common sense that doesn't even need the pain of explaining.
But… to this extent….
A scream burst from Chung Myung's mouth that he could not hold back.
"Keueuuk!"
“...”
"Ughhk!"
Chung Myung clutched the grass on the ground so hard it was crushed. His bloodshot eyes turned toward the person currently holding his ankle.
What dwelt in those gleaming pupils was hatred, resentment, and deep-rooted bewilderment.
Why? Just why?
“Hm…”
Stab!
"Keuuk!"
Chung Myung's fingers, which had been clutching the grass, now trembled violently as they splayed out.
In his vision blurred by pain was Yoo Iseol. She was mercilessly thrusting a long needle into the slightly split wound.
It was perfect.
The needle, which had its impurities cleanly removed by infusing it with energy, and even Chung Myung’s hair threaded through that needle.
Not a single deviation from what Tang Soso had taught.
However…
Stab!
“Ahhhhh!”
Chung Myung shrieked.
“No! Why are you stabbing off to the side when you can clearly see where it goes! Why!”
Black strands of hair were messily stitched over Chung Myung's wound. It was so messy it would be embarrassing to say even a six-year-old child had scribbled it as a joke.
“I’ll do it myself! Move!”
“...I can do it.”
"No, I said I'll do it! I will!"
“Doable.”
The hell doable! At this rate, I wouldn't die from the rock fragment wound but from the needle stabs! What doable was this!
'I'm losing my mind.'
Why does a person who can pierce even a needle's eye with a sword act like that when he holds a needle?
Look, look! Look at her hand trembling. That, that…!
Stab!
"Keugh..."
Chung Myung's eyes rolled back white.
After a long time of agony.
The thoroughly exhausted Chung Myung silently looked down at his leg.
The haphazardly wrapped white bandages were already soaked through with bright red blood.
Was that blood really from the wound inflicted by the rock shrapnel?
Chung Myung's poisonous gaze turned towards Yoo Iseol.
Though he was grinding his teeth and his insides were boiling, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Because on that face, indifferent as always, there was a pride that the sahyungs and saje could now at least recognize a little.
In the end, a sigh of resignation slipped from his lips instead of anger.
And in fact, if you counted needle pricks, Yoo Iseol's fingertips had probably been stabbed more than his ankle. They were all swollen and...
He let out a pained groan.
"I just don't get it. Is sewing really that hard?"
Even though Chung Myungdo couldn't sew, but honestly it wasn't to this degree.
Some might find sewing difficult, but for someone like Yoo Iseol, whose precision in other areas was beyond comparison, this level of struggle made no sense. And that severely at that.
Unexpectedly, an answer to that question flowed from Yoo Iseol's mouth.
“I remember something.”
"Huh?"
Chung Myung, who was pulling his throbbing ankle closer and clutching it, raised his head and looked at Yoo Iseol. With an expression still unreadable as ever, Yoo Iseol calmly added.
"Of the past."
Chung Myung frowned slightly, not immediately understanding.
What was that...
But soon his eyes widened greatly.
"Ah..."
Learning swordsmanship isn't that difficult. You just have to precisely follow a pre-determined sword path.
But creating a sword technique is anything but easy.
Especially if it's not just attempting it casually, but necessarily creating new swordplay within a time limit... you have to stake your life on it.
Because sword energy does not necessarily fly in the direction you predict.
The moment your internal strength and sword path fall out of sync, the sword turns into a weapon that harms its own master. This is why those who entered seclusion claiming they would create new martial arts often never see the light again.
And Chung Myung knew. Someone who had attempted that absurd task.
Someone who wasn't even at the level to create martial arts, yet dared to try creating new swordplay far beyond their capabilities.
Yoo Iseol's swollen fingertips caught his eye. Even now they were faintly twitching as if recalling something.
There was no way a physician could have been in those deep mountains to treat the father who was injured while creating a swordsmanship.
Since they were wounds inflicted by a sword, they would mostly have been puncture wounds, so what did Yoo Iseol's father do?
And for wounds he couldn’t stitch himself, someone else would have had to do it. Probably...
‘…Crazy bastard.’
He felt his stomach churning.
Yoo Iseol's father probably had no other choice. He couldn’t understand it, but he wouldn’t deny it either.
But still….
Chung Myung's gaze turned to Yoo Iseol.
He was newly reminded during all this training, Yoo Iseol had never once cried or shown even a single instance of refusal.
Every time she was swept away by the encroaching memories of the past, the tip of the needle must have lost its way and stabbed her hands. But even during all that, Yoo Iseol silently did her assigned portion. And though it was a complete mess, she managed to treat someone.
How could she do that? Why go to such lengths?
“…You don’t have to do this, you know?”
A genuine question slipped from Chung Myung's mouth.
A question others wouldn't understand, but one that Yoo Iseol would comprehend.
"Sago don't have to do this. You’re already exceptional. There's no reason you have to go through all this."
“...”
"Or are you just doing it because you were told to?"
Yoo Iseol, who was quietly meeting his gaze, opened her mouth.
“Because I must.”
It's a statement that holds a lot of meaning.
It was different from 'doing it because I was told to’. Just as she said, Yoo Iseol must do it.
No matter how passionately Tang Soso preached its necessity, sword warriors who had spent their lives wielding blades would find it hard to learn sewing. Not that it was a difficult task. It was just something they didn't want to do.
Especially in a situation like this with the war right around the corner, most would think it's better to swing a sword one more time rather than have their time stolen by something they are not familiar with and not good at.
Even Tang Gun-ak thought that way. So why would the others be any different?
That was why Baek Cheon took the lead. But in reality, Baek Cheon wasn't enough. Baek Cheon was what the world commonly called a 'genius.' He accomplished everything skillfully. He didn't experience the difficulties others faced.
But Yoo Iseol was different.
She, who clearly had not a shred of talent for this task in anyone's eyes, was engrossed in sewing with her fingers swollen, so that sight alone was enough to certainly suppress the complaints of others.
Yoo Iseol looked at Chung Myung quietly and then opened her mouth.
“And, I won’t be able to.”
“Huh? What are you talking about…?”
"If I don't do it because I can't."
Chung Myung, stunned for a moment, slowly nodded.
She was right. If you don't do something because it's difficult, because you're not used to it, because you can't easily master it, then you'll never be able to do it.
This must have been a fight with herself.
So trivial and insignificant that no one would acknowledge it, yet important to the person involved, and a battle only she could resolve.
A sigh escaped Chung Myung's lips.
'You're really strong.'
Yoo Iseol was a strong person.
Everyone in Mount Hua will agree. Anyone who has experienced and fought alongside her.
What was strange was that this same Yoo Iseol harbored deeper wounds than anyone else.
Then Yoo Iseol reproached Chung Myung bluntly.
“Stupid.”
"...Huh?"
“Dummy.”
“...No, weren’t we done with this? Why are you picking a fight again?"
“There’s something I must do.”
Chung Myung tilted his head.
"Huh?"
"No matter what."
What was she talking about? Was she talking about herself?
"Even if I get hurt, even if someone else gets hurt, I must do it. Because otherwise it won't work. Because ‘in the end,’ that is the best way.”
"Sago."
Yoo Iseol's gaze turned towards the distant sky.
"That's how he was. My father."
For a moment, Chung Myung's fingertips flinched.
A heavy silence settled between them. Somewhere in the distance, the soft song of insects echoed.
Within that silence, only after a considerable time had passed did Chung Myung open his mouth.
"What do you think?"
“What?”
"Your father."
Yoo Iseol's expression remained unchanged. Even though it was a question that even Chung Myung had to ask with caution.
“I was angry.”
“...”
“I was sad, and bitter, and couldn’t stand the sight of him, but I missed him.”
She quietly poured out her memories from that time.
Chung Myung nodded quietly. Of course. How could one possibly explain all those complex emotions?
To the young Yoo Iseol, her father must have been everything. But that everything had ruined her. What would have become of Yoo Iseol's life if Hyun Jong hadn't come to her rescue?
What he had ruined, Hyun Jong had saved.
To Chung Myung, Yoo Iseol was like a thorn stuck in his fingertips. Even when he forgot and was chattering away, she would suddenly sting and throb.
"Now..."
Yoo Iseol’s gaze turned somewhere to the east. Her father was probably buried somewhere in that direction.
“I feel sorry. Just.”
“...”
Chung Myung fell into thought. And he asked himself.
What would have been the right thing for Yoo Iseol’s father to do?
He couldn't understand Yoo Iseol’s father, but he couldn't deny his way of life. He knows that if he were in the same situation, he himself would be the one to practice such a way of life without hesitation more than anyone else.
Just as Yoo Iseol said, there was no other choice. Because there was no other way. Even if it meant a sacrifice.
When his thoughts reached that point, nausea surged up.
The nausea Chung Myung felt as she recalled Yoo Iseol's father was perhaps an emotion of self-loathing. A self-loathing for not being able to deny what he knew was wrong, for sympathizing with what he considered terrible.
“You’re different.”
Yoo Iseol opened her mouth rather suddenly.
Chung Myung stared blankly at Yoo Iseol. As if she knew what Chung Myung was thinking, she slowly shook her head.
“No. You will be different.”
"Sago?"
"Because I'm your Sago."
In that instant, Chung Myung saw it. Her firmly sealed lips drew a faint arc.
That rare, fleeting smile was likely meant to reassure him.
Strong.
In Chung Myung’s eyes, Yoo Iseol was a person stronger than anyone in the world. Incomparably more so than himself, who only pretended to be strong on the surface.
But that very thought made doubt surge within him.
Could that really be possible?
Did she become strong because of all she endured?
No, that can't be.
Wounds sometimes make people stronger, but prolonged and devastating pain can break a person beyond repair. No one knew that better than Chung Myung.
Perhaps Yoo Iseol was being utterly desperate right now?
Because she must. Yes. Because as she said, she must.
Then...
When there was no longer a need to be strong? No, when she fails to protect what she tried to protect with that strength… what will become of Yoo Iseol?
hen her world shatters again, will she still be able to stand before him with that same face?
“Sago. You...”
It was then.
“So you were here. I’ve been looking for you for a while.”
Chung Myung turned around at the voice that suddenly interrupted him.
He saw Namgung Dowi approaching them.
"The strategist is looking for you, General."
Chung Myung had a hunch.
The moment he saw Namgung Dohwi’s hardened expression… No, from the moment he heard his more serious than usual voice.
No, perhaps even before that. Maybe from the very moment he had unknowingly harbored the thought that this current situation was more peaceful than expected.
Namgung Dowi's soft voice penetrated his ears.
“Evil Tyrant Alliance... made a move.”
Ice-cold blood erupted from his heart and flooded through his veins.
|Note
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