Chapter 1819. What Could It Mean? (4)

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Crunch.

Jin Hyeon bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he stared at the burning halls. His eyes were bloodshot, and the tip of his sword trembled.

He no longer screamed about rushing to Wudang.

"Sasuk…"

"Yes."

He understood. He knew who had set the fire and who had committed such atrocities.

The flames rising simultaneously from multiple halls made it all too clear.

When he turned his gaze, his eyes met Mu Jin's. A single red tear rolled down Mu Jin's remaining eye.

Mu Jin also knew. He knew what was happening there.

"…Sajil."

Jin Hyeon closed his eyes tightly instead of answering. It felt like his heart was being torn apart. He wanted to rush in immediately. But he couldn't. Doing so would be an insult to those who had set those fires.

The burning halls conveyed it clearly.

"Sasuk."

"….Yes."

"The Sect Leader… told us not to look back." 

Blood trickled from Jin Hyeon's lip, where his teeth had sunk in.

"He told us to look forward, not behind."

"….Yes. I heard it too."

Jin Hyeon stared at the burning halls again, as if engraving the sight into his memory forever. Without blinking once, he watched it until, finally, he turned away.

"I apologize for my weakness. First, we must…"

Crunch.

Jin Hyeon ground his teeth harshly.

"…Do what needs to be done."

Mu Jin closed his eyes briefly.

'Sect Leader…. Sasuk.'

Even without seeing, he understood. He didn't need to count or guess. He knew who had staked their lives there. He knew what those flames were trying to tell them all.

"Yes."

Mu Jin gave a short reply, unable to say more. He wasn't confident he could hide the tremor in his voice.

'Let's just believe.'

Believe that they would survive.

What was behind them, they had to leave to those who guarded the rear. For now, they had to face the enemies before them.

"Do not look back!"

Mu Jin shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice echoed so that every disciple of Wudang standing there would hear him clearly.

"That is not Wudang! Those burning halls, the land we lived on—none of that is Wudang!"

Even Mu Jin himself didn't believe the words he was shouting. But there are times when a leader must cry out words they don't believe in. Now, he understood that.

"Where we stand—that is Wudang. Right here, this is Wudang. Show them what Wudang truly is! Show them why we are Wudang!"

The eyes of Wudang's swordsmen turned red. A roar erupted from their throats, somewhere between a battle cry and a suppressed sob.

Behind them, their home burned. But they could not turn back.

Where could they unleash this fury and sorrow?

The answer was painfully clear. The ones responsible for this were standing right before them.

"Uaaaaaaahh!"

The Wudang swordsmen, heedless of their own lives, began swinging their swords at the enemy.

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Jang Ilso's gaze had been fixed on one place for some time, as if he had turned to stone.

Ho Gamyeong realized that even Jang Ilso hadn't expected this outcome.

Was it a miscalculation?

That couldn't be. Every move Jang Ilso made had been near perfect. No one could have foreseen and countered everything.

Yet, what was the result?

Jang Ilso was right in predicting that the enemy wouldn't anticipate the situation. Their reaction proved that.

But he had miscalculated in thinking they wouldn't be able to respond. They had somehow managed to withstand every move.

The noose was tightening.

Usually, the side that sets the trap holds the advantage. But here, even the desperate schemes thrown into the chaos were being blocked. Was that even possible?

A burning frustration welled up inside him.

But complaints were useless now. Only one thing mattered.

"…Ryeonju-nim."

Ho Gamyeong looked at the frozen Jang Ilso.

Did Jang Ilso still have a move left to turn this around?

"…Hmm."

At last, Jang Ilso let out a short breath. Like a statue coming to life, his body trembled slightly.

He let out a long sigh and spoke.

"How boring."

"..."

"Isn't this strange?"

"Ryeonju-nim."

Jang Ilso's displeased gaze swept across the battlefield.

"Look at this. It's a mess."

Ho Gamyeong clenched his teeth in silence.

If anything, calling it a mess was inaccurate. The problem was that it was too neat and precise.

The battlefield had completely shifted from what they had envisioned. That much was clear.

The forces sent to seize control had instead lost their lives to mere youngsters, and their carefully drawn swords were now bound.

Even their most trusted shock troops had failed to break through the enemy's defenses. The battlefield, which should have been a maelstrom of chaos, had not yet even reached that state.

If this continued, the outcome was inevitable.

"It's strange. Far too strange. And yet…. it feels familiar."

Jang Ilso's eyes, who had been mumbling, sank deeply. Ho Gamyeong's expression hardened.

'It's familiar.'

The word struck a nerve. Indeed, even Ho Gamyeong felt a similar sense of déjà vu.

Their carefully laid plans were inexplicably being thwarted. As if the enemy had foreseen them in advance and prepared for it.

From the perspective of the Evil Tyrant Alliance, it was a baffling situation. And yet, at the same time, it felt eerily like something they had encountered before.

Ho Gamyeong knew why.

"…The Plum Blossom Sword Demon."

"Right? But that's why it's strange."

Jang Ilso's voice was quieter than usual.

"Look. Over there."

Jang Ilso raised his hand. Revealing his pale, slender fingers from beneath his red sleeve. His half-lowered index finger pointed toward a single figure. At the end of the line, Cheong Myeong was standing.

"He's right there."

"..."

"Of course, that fool from Diancang did something idiotic… but that was within expectations. I've done all I could to tie that Taoist's feet and shut his mouth. So while he was tied up, everything should have gone my way." 

Jang Ilso did not overestimate himself.

He had confidence in his strategies, but he never considered them infallible. Strategies were, after all, nothing more than the desperate struggles of those lacking power.

And there were always those who could render even such struggles meaningless.

Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword, Cheong Myeong.

It wasn't just because he was exceptional. It was because he was someone vastly different yet eerily similar to himself. And because of that, he could see into each other's moves.

Against such an opponent, there was only one way for a strategy to succeed: bind their attention and target areas beyond their sight.

In this way, Jang Ilso brought down Shaolin, annihilated the Peng family, rendered the Kongtong Sect beyond recovery, and even half-erased Wudang.

It should have been no different here. As long as Cheong Myeong's movements were restrained, his strategies should have worked. But...

"This feels like.... there are several of that damned Taoist, doesn't it?"

Jang Ilso murmured as he scratched his lips. His voice was calm, but his expression was twisted into something monstrous.

"Even though that shouldn't be possible."

Ho Gamyeong clenched his eyes shut instinctively.

He had always thought a day like this would come. A time when Mount Hua's fledglings would grow to be formidable opponents. And when that time came, the Evil Tyrant Alliance would have no place left. His intense fixation and wariness toward the Plum Blossom Sword Demon stemmed from this very fear.

And now, that uneasy premonition was becoming a reality here and now—faster and on a grander scale than he had ever imagined.

"Ryeonju-nim."

"This is why the world is interesting, isn't it, Gamyeong-ah?"

Jang Ilso tilted his head back and gazed at Ho Gamyeong.

Ho Gamyeong bit his lips tightly. Even in this dire situation, maintaining composure was admirable, but was this truly Jang Ilso's true state of mind? Or was this calm demeanor just a desperate facade to mask his anxiety?

"At this rate, we will lose."

"Hmm."

Jang Ilso stared at him intently before speaking decisively.

"No, that won't happen."

"...Ryeonju-nim?"

"When will we truly lose? When we are defeated in this battle?"

"...."

"No. You know it too. You know when we truly face defeat."

Ho Gamyeong silently met Jang Ilso's gaze. In his seemingly unshakable eyes, there was a fleeting tremor that Jang Ilso did not miss.

Jang Ilso's eyes curved like a crescent moon.

"So... why don't we try one last move?"

His gaze, surprisingly gentle, fell upon Ho Gamyeong.

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Cheong Myeong took a deep breath and slowly turned his head. His eyes met someone who had been waiting for him.

A determined gaze. When had that gaze become so resolute?

His body must have already reached its limits—perhaps it had even collapsed already. Yet the spirit housed within that body remained fiercely sharp.

"Really.... I can't stop you."

Staring blankly at the figure before him, Cheong Myeong shook his head and spoke sharply.

"You should've gone down at least ten times by now. You know that, right?"

"Well."

The voice that returned was gentle.

"What's certain is that I'm not dead and still alive. Isn't that enough?"

Looking at Baek Cheon's faint smile, Cheong Myeong gritted his teeth. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to punch that smiling face.

Cheong Myeong clenched the hand holding his sword tighter.

"There's a lot I could say... but let's talk after the war. Stick behind me. If you want to survive."

Turning away, he spoke even more coldly on purpose.

Protecting Baek Cheon in his current miserable state wouldn't be easy. But there was no other choice. Cheong Myeong was not the type to abandon someone just because it was inconvenient.

But then, Baek Cheon's unexpectedly firm voice reached Cheong Myeong's ears.

"No."

Cheong Myeong stopped in his tracks. He turned back, disbelief written on his face.

"That's your role, Cheong Myeong."

"....What?"

Baek Cheon's expression remained calm. Seeing the quiet certainty in his eyes, Cheong Myeong's face hardened. A bad premonition struck his mind.

"Sasuk?"

"You lead them and fight."

The composed voice carried not a hint of hesitation.

"I'll do what I need to do."

"What nonsense—!"

"I've realized something after it became like this."

As Cheong Myeong's eyes filled with doubt, Baek Cheon smiled.

"Some things are worth struggling for, no matter how meaningless they may seem."

Cheong Myeong's expression stiffened.

"Leave it to me. I'll struggle with all my might. That's my specialty now."

Cheong Myeong glared at him as if he wanted to kill him on the spot. Baek Cheon met that gaze with a smile.

After staring at him for a long while, Cheong Myeong finally spat out a bitter remark.

"Do as you please."

"Don't die."

Baek Cheon, offering only that brief response, turned away. But Cheong Myeong shouted from behind him.

"Sasuk!"

"Hngh?"

"....Take Baek Sang Sasuk with you. He'll be useful."

Baek Cheon didn't respond.

He could feel Cheong Myeong's gaze on his back.. But now wasn't the time to look back. All he could do was convey his resolve.

"Don't worry. I'll make it."

"...."

Baek Cheon dashed forward.

Cheong Myeong, left behind, watched his retreating figure.

It was a pitiful sight compared to the past... yet strangely, it overlapped with the back of the Cheong Mun he once knew.

'That Dongryong, of all people...'

Cheong Myeong, unable to take his eyes off that back for a long time, finally turned around. He muttered quietly.

"I must be getting old."

Feeling this sudden urge to rely on someone like that, after all.