Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1724 – I Can't Help Losing It (4)
Editor: Hoamzz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
"Will he be alright?"
“....”
"No, Sahyung. I understand how he feels, but thinking coldly, isn't Sasuk in a state worse than an ordinary person right now? It wouldn't be surprising if his breath gave out tomorrow."
“....”
"Such a person... for someone who can't even properly hold a brush to perform that much work, is it really right..."
Then Yoon Jong, who had been silent, turned to look at Jo-Gol. Jo-Gol flinched at his solemn gaze and closed his mouth.
Yoon Jong chewed his lip slightly before speaking.
"So, can you tell Sasuk to stop and rest? Even knowing those feelings?"
“…I can say it. It’s just that he won’t listen.”
Yoon Jong sighed deeply at Jo-Gol's grumbling. It seemed Jo-Gol still hadn't truly grasped it yet. What it meant that Baek Cheon was finished as a martial artist.
Yoon Jong repeatedly clenched and unclenched the hand holding the book. It seemed to show his unsettled heart. Eventually, this sight caught Jo-Gol's attention.
“But, Sahyung.”
"What."
"What's that you've been holding since earlier? Seems like you've been carrying it since the office, but you don't seem to be reading it either."
Yoon Jong glanced down at the book in his hand. An untitled book (무명책(無名冊)) with no title.
“...Sasuk gave it to me."
“Huh? Sasuk?”
"Yes."
Yoon Jong's eyes darkened. He forced his reluctant lips to part.
"It's Mount Hua's personnel ledger."
“Huh?”
"And… Mount Hua's rules… and the things the eldest disciple of Mount Hua must observe are written in it."
Jo-Gol, who had been silent for a moment, narrowed his eyes.
"No, how…?"
"It seems you prepared in advance. He also wrote down what he felt while serving as acting sect leader and his requests."
At that moment, Jo-Gol's face turned red and an agitated voice burst out.
“What…! Why would Sasuke give that to Sahyung!"
“....”
"No, and Sahyung, you accepted it when he gave it? Without knowing what it means?"
“Gol-ah.”
"Are you in your right mind? Did you boil your wits and eat it? Someone who’s on the brink of death hands you that, and you happily take it and fiddle with it? You..."
“Do you think I took it because I wanted to, you punk!”
Yoon Jong snapped back harshly. But Jo-Gol didn't even listen and jumped to his feet.
"Please give it to me."
“...What should I do?”
“What do you mean, what? I have to go throw it in Sasuk’s face!”
“....”
"What kind of position is Mount Hua Acting Sect Leader that he can carelessly hand it over like this on his own! Not even three days and nights of beatings would be enough for this!”
“Sit down.”
"Sahyung!"
“Sit down!”
Yoon Jong finally burst into anger and shouted. Jo-Gol gritted his teeth tightly and reluctantly plopped back down. But the way he tightly crossed his arms made it clear he still couldn’t accept it.
After a sigh, Yoon Jong called him as if to reason with him.
"Gol-ah."
"Wasn't this expected to happen anyway?"
“....”
"Everyone knew Sasuk would lose his martial arts! It just happened a little sooner than expected."
This was the reason why Jo-Gol was angry.
"But what’s this? Why does everyone look at Sasuk like that? Martial arts? Is that so great? If you can’t swing a sword, is Sasuk worthless? I didn't obediently listen to Sasuk because he was stronger than me!"
“Be quiet. People outside can hear.”
“Damn it, let them hear if they want! Did I say anything I shouldn’t have?”
Kwang!
Jo-Gol struck the table beside him with his fist in fury. The teacups couldn't withstand the impact and toppled over, spilling tea onto the floor.
Drip.
Yoon Jong, watching the tea flowing over the table, tightly closed his eyes.
The future that will come someday and the reality that has already arrived are different. No matter how much you prepare, they can never be the same.
"Anyway, I can't accept it. Sasuk….”
“Gol-ah. This is Sasuk's decision."
"Sahyung!"
"And... do you really think that's the path for Sasuk's sake? On the battlefield..."
“Damn it, who are you calling an idiot? I can just carry him on my back if I have to!”
"What about Sasuk's feelings?"
At those words, Jo-Gol finally shut his mouth.
“Right. If you did that, you might comfort yourself and feel satisfaction. But what about Sasuk? On a battlefield where even one more person is needed, someone who can't properly use martial arts joining while under your protection? Have you ever thought about what that would mean to Sasuk?"
He couldn't say anything. Jo-Gol just repeatedly tightened his grip on his hand.
Yoon Jong wearily washed his face dry. An indescribable exhaustion washed over him.
"This is just... preparation. As you know well, Sasuk isn't someone who gives up on everything so easily."
This was true. Baek Cheon had said the same thing when handing over this book.
But both Yoon Jong and Jo-Gol know how much was hidden behind the word ‘preparation’.
- Actually, I think I’m a bit late. It’s something I should have done long ago.
Yoon Jong unconsciously clenched his fist as he recalled what Baek Cheon had added.
'But Sasuk... It's too soon for me.'
No matter how deeply he sighed, his heart only sank endlessly to the bottom of a distant lake.
* * *
Ttaak.
Baek Cheon stared blankly at the brush rolling on the floor. The brush had slipped out of his hand through the loosened bandages.
While the lamp flickered several times, Baek Cheon, who had been staring dazedly at the brush, struggled to raise his body.
Throb!
Pain assaulted him as if knives were tearing through his whole body. He staggered for a moment, then barely maintained his body while grinding his teeth until they made a creaking sound. It was to endure the pain.
Ttok.
Sweat that had gathered on his chin fell to the floor.
Throb! Throb!
He could tell instinctively. This pain wouldn’t disappear.
As Tang Gun-ak had said, his body now was nothing more than a cracked vessel forcibly patched together haphazardly. No matter how much it improves, unless the cracks are completely eliminated, this pain will stay with him for the rest of his life.
He stretched out his half-bandaged hand with all his might.
He lifted his arm and reached out to grab it.
Such a simple motion, one he had never even consciously thought about, now felt more difficult to Baek Cheon than any complex technique in the world.
His fingertips, trembling like a leaf in the wind, finally touched the brush.
Tat.
But cruelly, the brush slipped away from him and rolled even further out of reach.
“....”
Baek Cheon stared blankly at that scene.
'It's fine even without martial arts?'
He was half-sincere. He had mentally prepared himself. He had vowed over and over that even if he lost all his martial arts, he would not become a useless person.
But.
"Heu..."
He hadn't imagined that beyond simply losing martial arts, he would become a cripple like this.
Tolsseok.
Baek Cheon slumped down as if collapsing on the spot. Laughter that sounded like he had lost his mind kept leaking out.
What could he do now?
He had imagined a life where he couldn't hold a sword. But a life where he couldn't even hold a brush?
Did he have the confidence to endure a life where even breathing required someone's help? Had he truly been prepared for all of that?
The words he hadn't wanted to think of until the very end leaked from his lips.
"A burden..."
He had prepared for death. He had believed that resolve alone was heroic enough.
But perhaps what Baek Cheon had underestimated was not death, but life. He had naively believed that death would be the greatest pain inflicted upon him.
What could he do? What must he do?
Baek Cheon crawled toward the brush again. Pain washed over him as if dozens of daggers were slashing his body at once, but this physical agony was nothing compared to the torture his mind was enduring.
He extended his skeletal branch-like arm with all his might and finally grasped the brush.
Seureureuk.
But that was only for a moment, as the brush he had barely managed to grab slipped from his grasp and fell again.
Not giving up, he clutched the brush again. The motion was weaker than that of a newborn's hand. Yet, for that feeble gesture, Baek Cheon's face was drenched in sweat.
"...Stay."
Yet still it wouldn't be caught.
"Stay, I said..."
Hadn't he always firmly believed? That there was nothing effort couldn't achieve. That there was nothing you couldn't overcome if you just didn't give up. That even if he fail, the will carry on. Hadn't he believed that more firmly than anyone?
But what was here now?
Could it be overcome with effort? Was there victory to be won? No, above all, what will should he leave behind from this trivial struggle?
"Stay grasped, damn it!"
Tuuk.
However, neither the brush nor his hand would listen to him.
Baek Cheon silently lowered his gaze. Before he knew it, both his bandages and the floor were a mess of black ink.
Suddenly, he found his own state ridiculous.
"Heu..."
He had overcome rivers of blood flowing on the battlefield, yet he never knew he would be overwhelmed with sorrow and sob over mere ink like this.
“Huuu....”
Baek Cheon's shoulders trembled finely. His skeletal arms, no longer able to support his body, buckled and his body crashed onto the floor with a thud.
Baek Cheon, with his cheek pressed against the floor, looked at the brush rolling on the ground.
A sword that cannot be swung.
A brush that cannot be used.
A person who can do nothing.
'Does it have any value?'
If a person's life was meant to leave something behind, his life had already ended. Whether it reached or not, he had at least delivered his message.
However, then what was this body that remained here?
Wasn't it a shell with nothing left to convey? Shouldn't it be called a specter that had missed its time to vanish? Could there possibly be any value left in it?
Ttok, ttok.
It was then. Someone knocked on the door. Baek Cheon's eyes were instantly dyed with fear.
He didn't want to be seen.
Baek Cheon was someone who had overcome fear by summoning courage even while facing countless enemies. Yet now he was terrified by the fear of showing this disgraceful state.
“D- Don’t come in!”
He shouted reflexively and hastily scanned his surroundings.
The floor was a mess, and his appearance was, needless to say, a wreck. It was difficult even to lift his fallen body from the floor.
"Don't open it! Go back! I don't know who you are, but right now…!"
It was neither a command nor a warning. It was closer to a plea. He didn't want to show this state to anyone. It was too miserable and wretched.
"I told you to go away! Please...!"
Squeak.
But undeterred by his desperate voice, the person slowly pushed the closed door open and stepped inside.
A suffocating silence flowed.
One person stood, and another crawled on the floor. Having confirmed the other in such contrasting situations, Baek Cheon unconsciously let out a sneer.
If it were anyone else, he might have at least garnered sympathy.
If the person standing there had been Chung Myung, he might have burst into tears.
Of course, even that would have been equally miserable, but it would have been better than now.
Reality was crueler than imagination.
Baek Cheon looked up with a sneer at the face frozen cold as ice. What made Baek Cheon despair more was the fact that what filled that person's eyes wasn't mockery but genuine resentment.
"...Dongryong-ah."
"You...!"
Baek Cheon bit his lips until they bled.
"You..."
“Don’t come!”
Baek Cheon screamed at the person approaching to support him.
"Don't touch my body! Damn it, I said don't touch me!"
"Dongryong-ah!"
"I told you to get lost, Jin Geumryong! My body! My body..."
The voice filled with resentment subsided. He couldn't say anything. He couldn't do anything.
Just biting his lips tight to stop the sobbing voice was all he could do.
Jin Geumryong's face, looking at Baek Cheon like that, soon contorted fiercely as if filled with malice.
“…You look great, you damn bastard. I told you... I told you so many times that it would end up like this!"
"Shut your mouth!"
Baek Cheon's eyes were bloodshot.
He confronted him with a fierce momentum, but Jin Geumryong no longer showed anger. After taking a deep breath, he soon stared directly at Baek Cheon with determined eyes.
Baek Cheon's bloodshot eyes filled with despair and Jin Geumryong's eyes coldly boiling with anger remained entangled for a moment. Finally, Jin Geumryong spoke.
"Do you want to hold the sword again?"
"...What?"
"I. No, we can make that happen."
Baek Cheon momentarily doubted his ears. What did he just say...
“Abandon Mount Hua.”
Jin Geumryong's firm voice felt like thunder. Baek Cheon's eyes widened.
"If you abandon Mount Hua and reclaim the place where you originally belong."
Each word was engraved in his mind.
"Then we too can restore to you. The most brilliant version of yourself."
Jin Geumryong reached out to Baek Cheon, who had forgotten even his anger and was staring blankly. The gesture was cautious.
"Let's go to Southern Edge Sect, Dongryong-ah. You don't need to suffer like this anymore."
Baek Cheon, looking at Jin Geumryong in a daze, closed his eyes.
This wasn't the devil's temptation. But precisely because it wasn't, it was more deadly, and thus... more agonizing.
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