Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1593. Even Buddha has abandoned you (3)
Editor: Hoamz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
It was perhaps a spectacle that should have been witnessed and etched into one's eyes.
But the Shaolin monks could not see that magnificent retreating back of Bop Kye.
Chant like roaring lions rang out, and the Shaolin monks poured forth their fists in succession.
Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!
They were fists honed with single-minded purpose to spread the Buddha's will and thereby save those who suffer. Their weight thoroughly blocked those who were trying to reach for Bop Jeong and Bop Kye.
Kwang!
“You cannot go!”
That quiet and weighty magnificent voice was no longer there. It was a blood-curdling shout, filled with earnestness and a craving for the unattainable.
“Get out of the way, you bald monks! You’re in the way!”
Blades flew continuously from all directions.
Sogeok! Sogeok! Sogeok!
No matter how much they had cultivated throughout their lives, they could not possibly block every dao flung from all sides by the tangled mass of enemies.
One Shaolin monk's entire body was mercilessly torn by cruel blades in an instant and dyed crimson red.
"Did I not say you cannot pass!"
Kwang!
But even while blood flowed from their entire bodies, the Shaolin monks clung to and held onto their enemies.
Jeok Ho, who had belatedly rushed over, hardened his expression.
The stubbornly clinging monks were seizing those who pursued Bop Jeong. Even with daos buried in their backs, they grabbed the ankles of those who ran ahead and refused to let go.
“Amitabha!”
It was a Buddhist mantra uttered by anyone who takes refuge in Buddhism, but when spat out by those throwing away their own lives, its resonance was distinctly different.
Death was frightening to anyone.
Yet these men accepted that death. If death is unavoidable, then by it they will protect whatever they must.
Wasn't this the reason the lotus flower blooming in the mud became a symbol of Buddhism?
"You... cannot pass... before I die."
Coughing up clotted blood, a Shaolin monk grabbed onto an advancing enemy and held fast. Their tenacity rivaled that of Myriad Man Manor, but it was clearly different from the madness Evil Sects showed.
"...Playing tricks."
Jeok Ho gritted his teeth.
In the distance, the figures of Bop Kye staggering away and Bop Jeong carried on his back were clearly visible.
He could not let them go like this. The victory in battle was already as good as decided. Bop Jeong's head would further solidify that victory. And it would become a symbol that would place Evil Tyrant Alliance and Myriad Man Manor, and furthermore Paegun's name, in the most brilliant place in this world.
“I won’t let them go!”
Kwang!
Jeok Ho kicked off the ground and leaped over the tangled mass of people. No, he tried to.
But then, dozens of streams of fist force imbued with Buddha’s light poured toward his front. They had burst out all at once as if on cue, so even Jeok Ho flinched for a moment and had no choice but to swing his dao.
Chwaaaak!
The incoming fist force was torn apart by the fierce dao. That was all, but the aftermath was enough to prevent the leaping Jeok Ho from advancing further. It had anchored his feet if only for a moment.
Udeudeuk!
Jeok Ho bit his lip.
Those men had to defend against attacks from every direction. To attack Jeok Ho amidst that, they must have disregarded blades piercing their bodies.
Yet the fist forces that had flown toward him in that instant numbered at least ten.
It meant that not a single one of those Shaolin monks had looked after their own bodies.
Even as rage swelled within him, Jeok Ho felt a chill run down his spine.
"These...!"
But there was no time to waste here. Right now, he had to chase after those two. If he let them escape like this, everything would become his failure.
Just as Jeok Ho was about to kick off the ground again, one Shaolin monk who had shaken off Evil Sects clinging to him desperately charged toward him.
"Aaaaah!"
Buddha’s light-imbued palm shadows poured from his fully outstretched hand. Jeok Ho glanced coldly at the sight and slashed horizontally in a single motion.
Chwaaaaak!
The huge palm shadow split by the red dao energy and a long line was carved into the Shaolin monk's body.
"A... mi..."
Strength drained from the Shaolin monk's body. But he never stopped. Staggering as if about to fall any moment, he somehow managed to take step after step toward Jeok Ho..
Tak.
A gesture weaker than a child's punch touched Jeok Ho's chest.
Was Bop Jeong truly an existence worth this much? Just because he was bangjang?
"...Is the person called 'bangjang' so valuable to you?"
That was why he asked. Without even expecting an answer.
But an unexpected reply escaped the staggering Shaolin monk's mouth.
“It is not different…”
“...What?”
A gentle aura appears on the face that was once filled with pain.
“Whoever… it may be, even if it is not Bangjang… a life… is worth… risking my own for…” (“그게⋯⋯ 누구이건, 방장이 아닌 누구라도⋯⋯ 내 목숨을⋯⋯ 걸 가치는, 있소이다⋯⋯.”)
Jeok Ho's face distorted.
Sogeok!
The dao severed the opponent's neck in one stroke.
The headless body soon crumpled to the ground with a thud.
It may have been a fleeting compassion rather than hatred. Jeok Ho cast a cold glance over the body that was stiffening, then raised his head and glared at the Shaolin monks.
“Whoever, you say....”
The gaze of the Shaolin monks was different. Having witnessed so many deaths and skirted the boundary of life and death themselves, they were filled with something Jeok Ho couldn’t comprehend.
“Does this mean that even if the head is a moron, the bottom has not rotted?”
Of course, you can't empathize with the enemy. But even if you can't empathize, you can respect them.
These people would probably never open a path for Jeok Ho until their lives were extinguished. No, perhaps even after their lives were spent.
“If that is what you truly want…”
Jeok Ho gripped his dao tight.
"I'll grant your wish."
❀ ❀ ❀
Kaang!
Sword and hand clashed.
Jongni Hyeong's Demon-Subduing Sword Technique (복마검법(伏魔劍法)) truly lived up to its reputation. It was swift, agile, and precise.
Even given the situation, his sword was more agile than usual. Fierce attacks repeatedly surged toward the enemy, aiming for openings.
But... In fact, Jongni Hyeong was despairing at this moment. It felt as helpless as swinging a sword at the sea.
‘Th- This…’
Dozens, no, perhaps hundreds of hands.
Hundreds of hands each taking different forms were enveloping him, as if hundreds of people were reaching out to him simultaneously.
'Thousand-Faced Hand!' (천면수(千面手))
Thousand-Faced Gentleman Dam Yeohae's exclusive ultimate technique. The Thousand-Faced Hands that had brought Thousand-Faced Gentleman the title of Evil Sects' Number One Hand (사파제일수(邪派第一手)) presented Jongni Hyeong with endless despair.
Of course, he might be able to win.
Even though his opponent was the Thousand-Faced Gentleman Dam Yeohae, the Evil Sects' Number One Hand and the sect leader of Hao Sect, Jongni Hyeong was also the sect leader of Kongtong Sect. His Demon-Subduing Sword Technique imbued with Kongtong's essence was by no means inferior to Dam Yeohae's palm techniques.
Yes, he might be able to win.
If only he had the time to calmly break down that dazzling hand technique one by one without rushing.
But what Jongni Hyeong lacked right now was precisely that 'time'. With his surroundings collapsing on all sides and his enemies closing in on him by the moment, he was granted no leisure to leisurely decipher his opponent's martial arts.
“Hwaaaaap!”
Jongni Hyeong frantically swung his sword.
It was a powerful strike that could push back his opponent if met head-on. But the opponent’s hands never faced his blade fairly.
Watching the hand shadows (수영(手影)) effortlessly diverting his sword energy and occupying the space around him, the despair in Jongni Hyeong's eyes deepened endlessly.
“Get out of the way!”
Kagak!
The sword he swung while screaming frantically once more became entangled with the hand shadows. Then hand shadows taking different forms entwined his sword like the hands of living people.
“Seems you’re in a hurry.”
"Thousand-Faced..."
“But I am in no such hurry.”
Dam Yeohae sneered with the face of a young man. The aged voice and the taut, wrinkle-free face of a youth created a dissonance that felt unpleasant. A chill ran down Jongni Hyeong's spine.
“So how about you also enjoy it leisurely, Sect Leader?”
“Aaaaaaaargh!”
Before Thousand-Faced Gentleman could finish his sentence, the screams of someone dying pierced Jongni Hyeong's ears.
"Aaaaaaaak!"
Jongni Hyeong let out a sound similar to that scream and swung his sword violently.
“Hahahaha!”
Thousand-Faced Gentleman’s loud laughter overlaid the screams. Jongni Hyeong’s two eyes quickly turned red.
‘Why!’
How did it come to this? He hadn't committed any wrong! Even if he had made mistakes, there was no reason to suffer such a miserable fate! It was unjust. He felt wronged.
"Get out! I said get out of the way!"
"Tsk, tsk. How pathetic. For one who is the leader of a prestigious sect to abandon even the minimum dignity like this."
Undisguised ridicule poured down.
Resentment, humiliation, and other indescribable emotions swept over Jongni Hyeong.
His gaze momentarily turned to the side without his knowing. To see with his own eyes the prime culprit who had unfolded this hellish scene.
And Jongni Hyeong opened his eyes wide.
"That..."
Though he was in the midst of fierce battle and knew he could lose his life from a moment's carelessness, he was struck dumb.
He had no choice.
Bop Jeong was running away, carried on Bop Kye's back.
‘He was defeated…?’
That Bop Jeong?
No, that's not it. That's not important.
What mattered now was not that Bop Jeong had been defeated by Jang Ilso, but that he was abandoning everyone and running.
After driving so many people to death, while Kongtong and Peng Family, and even Shaolin, were struggling in the pit of hell.
‘Alone? He’s running away alone, abandoning us? After making this mess?’
The moment he grasped the situation, his blood rushed in reverse. A heat flared up throughout his body, and an unbearable anger pounded his whole body.
'You want to survive alone?'
Paaaaat!
The hand of Thousand-Faced Gentleman, piercing through his sword that had been disordered due to his anger, struck Jongni Hyeong’s chest.
Jongni Hyeong spat blood through his mouth and slid backward. But the blazing hatred in his eyes was not directed at Thousand-Faced Gentleman.
“Bop....”
From the depths of Jongni Hyeong's stomach, unbearable rage burst forth as a scream.
“Bop Jeooooooooooooooooooooooong!”
It was a wretched voice that would shake the entire battlefield and more.
❀ ❀ ❀
A gaze looking down as if amused prickled unpleasantly on his skin, which had no spot left unharmed.
Finally, a voice filled with authority and dignity flowed out.
"Generally, one who becomes a ruler should value his own life most preciously."
But perhaps because too much authority was emphasized, that voice somehow felt only light.
Peng Ye silently placed his fingertips on the sword embedded in his side. His hand trembled terribly. It had been scorched and even crushed by the heat, making it impossible to grip and pull out the sword with that hand.
And in truth… even if he could grip and pull out this sword, the result would not change much. Because this was not the only sword embedded in his body.
"You may have had the capability to lead a sect, but it seems you lacked the ability to become a proper ruler."
“....”
"No matter how mighty a sect may be, once it loses its head, it becomes a rabble. You should have run away instead of confronting me. Even if it meant killing everyone left here."
“Cough.”
A cough mixed with the sound of wind flowed weakly from Peng Ye’s mouth.
He might be right.
Looking at his state now. Weapons sticking out all over his body, unable even to fall to the ground under his own strength, doesn't that prove that person's words?
He doesn't think there was a difference in skill.
What was different was just the mindset. The cold rationality that showed not a moment's hesitation in ordering coordinated attacks from numerous people even while stepping forward to fight. That was what Peng Ye lacked.
Though it would be cowardly for a martial artist, there was no choice more rational and obvious for one who led a sect.
Peng Ye forced his drooping eyes open and looked around.
Behind the arrogantly standing Sun Palace Master, a horrific scene was visible.
So many deaths were strewn about, but even in the midst of that, he could see Peng Family members attempting a desperate escape. Though his vision was hazy, he could see it clearly.
Their number was at most a few dozen. Compared to the number he had brought here, it was a drop in the bucket.
Had there been meaning in throwing away his life to save those mere dozens?
"Petty people often assign meaning to meaningless things themselves. But a true ruler risks his life only for things of value. It seems the leader of that Shaolin knows that fact.”
“....”
“Not knowing that is why you die, you lowlife.”
A hollow laugh escaped Peng Ye's mouth.
"Of value... you say..."
His vision gradually blurred until he could barely distinguish forms. Finally, the world begins to be dyed black from the edges.
Amidst it, the last thing he saw was the young martial artists of Peng Family who had finally broken through the enemy's encirclement.
"...Then, in my own way..."
“Hm?”
“…it’s not bad.”
The Sun Palace Master frowned at Peng Ye.
But Peng Ye had already lost his strength and let his head droop limply.
Thud.
Peng Ye's body collapsed to the side. It was a wretched sight, with a dozen or so blades embedded in his entire body.
The Sun Palace Master silently watched the sight for a moment before snorting and turning his body.
“A trivial death.”
The heartless voice reached Peng Ye's ears faintly.
'Hyung-nim....'
In the world dyed with darkness, the gaze of his brother looking at him surfaces hazily.
'...I have no regrets.'
Within the sensation of death approaching coldly, Peng Ye's empty pupils pursued something they could not reach.
'No... Actually....'
Peng Ye's hands hung limply.
Only his treasured blade, thrown down alone, mourned his death with silence—a death that no one else was there to witness.
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