Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1747 – Consider this me venting (2)
Editor: Hoamzz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
An eerie white light pierced the neck of a blood cultist who had failed to pull away in time.
Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword.
Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword Chung Myung's unique weapon, treated as a demonic sword in Evil Sects for taking the lives of countless Evil Sects too numerous to count, severed another life.
"Keu..."
The body of the one whose neck was pierced but not yet dead convulsed violently. It was a gruesome sight, too, terrible to behold, but Chung Myung's eyes were eerily indifferent.
"One."
Paaat!
As the sword was yanked from the neck, blood sprayed into the air like a long arrow.
As if that was a signal, the blood cultists all began to flee and showed their backs at once. No orders were necessary. If they had any thought at all, they could only know what to do now.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
Kwagak!
With a harsh sound, the spine of a fleeing blood cultist was snapped. The Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword had struck.
"Keuk!"
A stifled groan erupted as if his breath was being squeezed.
Another eerie sound followed immediately, and then there was no more groaning.
Everyone who was running ahead could guess what had happened. After the spine, the neck must have been severed. There was no need to turn around to confirm.
'Why!'
That was the only question surfacing in the mind of the blood cultist leading the desperate escape.
‘Why is Plum Blossom Sword Demon here!’
This was the lower area of Mount Wudang. There was still a considerable distance to the Wudang Sect at the mountain's peak. It wasn't a place where a major figure like the Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword would suddenly appear. So why was that monster here!
Sogeok!
"Euaaaaaaaaak!"
"Two."
His confused mind emptied like blank paper.
The sound of the sword cutting through another's flesh overlapped faintly. Not once, but twice. That meant he had swung his sword from behind and severed both legs in one go.
But the terrifying sounds didn't end there. The unmistakable sound of a sharp blade piercing the back of a fallen man's neck hammered into his ears.
'S- Save me...'
Now the chaos was gone. His mind was filled with only the instinct to survive.
In an instant, his entire body was soaked with sweat.
He couldn't tell if it was from sheer terror or because he was sprinting with a power he had never exerted in his life.
Yet even while running with all his strength, his body gradually grew colder.
Sogeok!
"Three."
Kwadeuk!
"Four."
The emotionless voice, far from growing distant, was drawing even closer.
The sound of a sword cutting through bodies, desperate groans, and the calm counting of heads. All of it was terror. Even those with some resistance to 'horror' couldn't help but shudder.
“Aaaagh!”
"Seven."
The moment the word ‘seven’ rang out, the blood cultist’s hair stood on end.
'How many were there?'
Those who came here...
Kwadeuk!
He no longer needed to find that answer.
“...Keuk.”
A white blade stained with blood emerged through his lower abdomen.
“...Keureuk.”
Whether his intestines were torn to shreds, fishy blood surged up from deep in his throat.
"Eu..."
He instinctively groped near the blade that had pierced through his belly.
A wound like this, pain like this...
"Uuaaaaaaagh!"
At that moment, a terrible scream burst from the blood cultist's mouth. The sword that had pierced through his back and embedded in his body twisted at a bizarre angle, thoroughly stirring his insides.
Though he might somehow endure the pain of torn flesh, he absolutely couldn't bear the pain of this terrible energy flowing from the sword tearing apart his internal strength and blood.
"Keu... Keu..."
Groans continuously flowed from his mouth as he collapsed. But this time, too, Chung Myung's eyes looking down were infinitely cold.
“Shut your trap.”
"Keu..."
Kwadeuk!
Chung Myung's foot slammed into the gaping mouth of the blood cultist. His teeth were shattered, and his tongue was crushed.
Dark red blood seeped out through the tiny gaps left between the foot and the mouth. The pain-ridden blood cultist finally rolled his eyes back, leaving only bloodshot whites.
"Even this death is a luxury for you."
"...Eu, keuheuk..."
“Rot in hell.”
Sogeok!
The Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword pierced through the blood cultist's neck. The body convulsed once as if struck by lightning, then life soon drained out.
Chwaak.
Withdrawing the sword, Chung Myung vigorously flicked it to shake off the blood as if disgusted, then spun it and sheathed it.
“...”
Jaegal Gwanwei, who had witnessed this entire scene, felt as if he were possessed.
'That's....'
Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword Chung Myung.
Who could still doubt the greatness of his skill? But seeing it in person, his martial prowess far exceeded Jaegal Gwanwei’s expectations.
'Close to ten Blood Palace warriors in just the time to take a few breaths...'
Of course, they hadn't actively fought against Chung Myung. Objectively speaking, they had simply been terrified upon seeing him, fled, and been stabbed in the back one by one.
But… Wasn't that even more incredible?
The Blood Palace was one of the Five Outer Palaces. Jaegal Gwanwei had personally confirmed the skill of its warriors. He found it difficult to properly face even one palace warrior. For some reason, his sword wouldn't work on them.
Just how strong must someone be for something like this to happen?
Their bizarre weapons and their inexplicably resilient bodies that seemed to use some sorcery were all meaningless. The strangeness of those who had driven Jaegal Gwanwei into a corner ultimately amounted to mere petty tricks before an overwhelming difference in skill.
"Any wounded?"
"...Ah."
Jaegal Gwanwei suddenly raised his head. Chung Myung had already approached and was looking down at him with an indifferent gaze.
"The, the wounded..."
His voice lost its strength as he staggered to his feet.
The sight of his comrades, mangled by the Blood Palace’s misshapen weapons, entered his vision again. It would be greedy to hope that anyone could still be breathing after such wounds.
"There seem to be... none."
Throb.
The side struck by the misshapen blade protested with pain as if objecting, but Jaegal Gwanwei ultimately didn't mention his own injury. It was his last remaining shred of pride.
"We'll clean up quickly and provide support."
"Yes?"
"This can't be all. We'll help other places."
"However, re- reinforcement from above..."
“These bastards aren't easy to handle. If we hesitate, the casualties will only pile up.”
Though it was difficult to fully comprehend, Jaegal Gwanwei nodded for now. Chung Myung, who had turned away as if finished speaking, suddenly paused and spoke again.
"And just so you know... don't go near those bastards' corpses."
"Huh?"
“I’ve warned you. I’m heading out first.”
Paat.
Chung Myung’s figure vanished as if he had simply flickered out of existence.
Only then did Jaegal Gwanwei exhale the long breath he had been holding. Simultaneously, a horrific pain began to throb in his side, and he collapsed onto the spot.
"Hyung-nim! Are you alright?"
"...I'm fine."
Those who belatedly noticed his condition rushed over in alarm.
"But Hyung-nim! Yo- Your side..."
Everyone paled seeing the wound opened wide as if intestines would spill out at any moment.
"We'll take you to Wudang immediately."
"Just roughly stitch it and wrap a bandage."
“Hyung-nim! The wound is so serious….”
"Enough, just wrap a bandage!"
When Jaegal Gwanwei bared his teeth and shouted, the one making a fuss flinched in surprise and shrank back.
'Damn.'
Jaegal Gwanwei gritted his teeth. Someone else spoke in a hollow voice, as if still unable to believe what had happened.
"Clearly... we couldn't bring them down."
“There was a gap in skill.”
“No, it wasn't just that. I clearly ran my sword through them, yet those bastards were perfectly fine.”
Jaegal Gwanwei sighed unconsciously. When the gap is large, it's difficult to properly understand even scenes unfolding before one's eyes. That was natural.
“How many died?”
"...Five."
Unbearable groans leaked out from all sides. Five in that brief instant.
"Evil Tyrant Alliance suddenly... Damn it, if not for this useless search!"
Vivid blue light flowed in Jaegal Gwanwei's eyes.
"Is now the time to discuss that?"
“...”
“Scatter and check the areas that need reinforcement! Blow the whistle to signal the moment you find anything.”
"Yes!"
The uninjured Jaegal Family martial artists scattered in all directions first. Jaegal Gwanwei bit his lip slightly.
‘But what does it mean to not approach the corpses…?’
“Hyu- Hyung-nim! Over there!”
The startled Jaegal Gwanwei raised his head.
"...What?"
"No, just now clearly something moved..."
Jaegal Gwanwei frowned.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Am I seeing things…?”
The person who had shouted tilted his head awkwardly. Jaegal Gwanwei spoke irritably without realizing it.
"If you have time to babble nonsense, quickly wrap the bandage."
* * *
"This...!"
Kwang!
The hilt of a sword, swung swiftly in a straight line, slammed into the face of a blood cultist charging with all his might. It was a blow strong enough to shatter an ordinary person's facial bones completely.
However, the cultist only faltered for a moment before reaching out again.
Sogeok!
Before that arm could fully extend, the sword swung fiercely once more and embedded in the blood cultist's neck. The tough rubber-like neck was half cut as sticky blood slowly flowed down.
Thud.
Even with half his neck gone, the body seemed unaware of the fact. It took a few more steps before finally collapsing face-first onto the ground.
Yoon Jong's eyes darkened.
For a sword wielded by one devoted to Taoism, his actions were excessive and cruel. He thought so himself, but these enemies' bodies were difficult to deal with unless he used such methods.
'Means are just means.'
Whether cruel or merciful, there was no difference in the act of taking a life. Since his hands were already stained with blood, debating the means was nothing more than a cowardly excuse to avoid guilt.
“Y- Yoon Jong Dojang! Are you alright?”
Though from another sect, they seemed to know his name. When Yoon Jong gave his gaze, the one who approached said.
"Be care...ful. Th- Those bastards use bizarre techniques."
Yoon Jong had already sensed this. He merely nodded slightly.
Though they had run until their feet nearly broke, the damage had already become considerable. Seeing the corpses below made one corner of his heart grow even darker.
"How dare..."
Yoon Jong's sleeves gradually swelled.
The number of enemies wasn't that great. That meant they were scattering and attacking in different places.
'Gol-ah and Sago went to other places but... even so, we can't defend everywhere.'
If he couldn't finish here even a bit faster and support other places, it was difficult to gauge how much damage would increase.
Yoon Jong knew well too.
He knew exactly who the responsibility would fall upon if the damage from this ambush became catastrophic. He wanted to prevent that situation at any cost.
Yoon Jong’s sword fiercely radiated sword energy.
Soon, he closed the gap with the enemy in a single breath. His movements were swift yet graceful. Yoon Jong bloomed more than ten plum blossoms toward the chest of the blood cult follower standing at the front.
Sogeok! Sogeok! Sogeok!
In an instant, dozens of blood lines appeared on the blood cultist's chest.
Shiver.
But then, a sudden ominous feeling flashed through him, and Yoon Jong quickly bent his body. The blood cultist's hand passed grazing right above his head. His scalp felt like it would tear from the strong wind pressure.
'...Even after suffering such wounds?'
He had clearly felt one of the sword energies cut through the man's heart. Even if the depth was shallow, a heart was still a heart.
Yet despite being injured like that, he counterattacked? And this strongly too?
"Keuk!"
Yoon Jong put all his strength into an upward slash.
Saaaaaak!
The sword filled with sword energy once again slashed long through the blood cultist's body. A long line was drawn clearly from the blood cultist's left thigh to right shoulder.
At that exact moment, the blood cultist’s twisted left hand slammed down toward Yoon Jong.
Kagagagagak!
The misshapen blade held in the left hand roughly scratched the ground where Yoon Jong had been standing just before. As if a giant beast had struck down, a long gouge appeared on the ground.
“...”
Sweat dripped down Yoon Jong's forehead as he stepped back.
'What?'
He definitely cut it. But how?
'Illusion technique? Or...'
Then, an even more unbelievable scene entered Yoon Jong's eyes.
"Huh?"
The long gash on the blood cultist’s body was healing. Though just before it had definitely been split open as if intestines would spill out, now not a bit of the opened gap was visible.
‘It healed in that split second?’
That was impossible. That couldn't be. That doesn't make sense...
Twitch.
Yoon Jong, caught in confusion, instinctively took a step back.
From the blood cultist's closed wound, something like dozens of long strings protruded and squirmed.
'Earthworm?'
No, it wasn't. That's....
“Yo- Yoon Jong Dojang! Behind you!”
"What?"
Yoon Jong instinctively turned his head. And soon the blood drained from his face completely.
The man whose neck he had personally sliced just a moment ago was standing up, his body contorting at a bizarre angle.
“What... is happening...”
The same thing was writhing from the neck of the one rising up. Swaying like a wooden puppet in a bizarre state with eyes half-unfocused, the bastard showed a grotesque bright smile.
Deep terror was etched onto Yoon Jong’s face.
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