Chapter 1653 - It's A Good Day (3)

The sword sliced through the air with a swift motion. It was an impeccably clean strike, but the sharpness that once characterized the blade was no longer present. Had it grown dull? No, that wasn't the case. The sword now embodies softness. To replace sharpness with softness is the way of the Wudang sword. The flowing softness within the rapid sword strike indicated that the wielder's skill had reached its peak.

The sword struck out once again. But this time, the attack didn't continue as smoothly as before. The swordsman, seeming to be troubled by something, swung the sword several more times before shaking his head.

It was at that moment.

"Sahyung! Sahyung!"

The swordsman glanced to the side. His disciple, with a pale face, was running towards him in a hurry.

"What's the commotion?"

"A big problem, Sahyung Jin Hyun! Did you hear the news?"

Jin Hyun frowned slightly.

"What news are you talking about? Speak properly…."

Jin Hyun was about to reprimand him sharply, but the disciple interrupted anxiously.

"Jang Ilso is leading the Evil Tyrant Alliance this way!"

Jin Hyun's slightly parted lips closed tightly. Unlike before, his eyes were now cold.

"Is this true?"

"Yes! The rumor is spreading fast. The Beggar's Union, which has been monitoring the Evil Tyrant Alliance, reported that they are moving towards us."

"Is that so?"

Jin Hyun nodded heavily. But that was all. He didn't say anything more, which frustrated his disciple, Jin Song.

"So, what do we do now, Sahyung?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's the Evil Tyrant Alliance. Our Wudang Sect cannot fight them alone."

"...."

"I heard they even destroyed Shaolin. Shouldn't we abandon this place before they arrive?"

"Silence."

Jin Song was startled by the sudden outburst and shrank back.

"Once spoken, words cannot be taken back. Be careful with what you say."

"I... I'm sorry, Sahyung."

"The decision on how to handle this situation rests with the Sect Leader. We simply follow orders."

Jin Song nodded, unable to refute.

"But."

"Yes?"

Jin Hyun couldn't suppress all his thoughts and added something he didn't have to say.

"If we were going to run, we wouldn't have closed the gates."

The sword that had been hanging loosely in Jin Hyun's hand let out a short ring.

Thud, thud, thud.

The previously silent Wudang grounds echoed with the sound of urgent footsteps.

"Sect Leader, we greet you."

"Sect Leader, are you well?"

A few disciples who were walking around hurriedly paid their respects as they saw the group rushing by. But the group, too pressed for time, didn't even glance at the disciples and hastened their steps.

White hair billowed in the wind. The temporary sect leader of Wudang, Heo Sanja, was leading the group with a stern face. They passed by the Upper Chamber Palace, where the Wudang Sect Leader resided, and arrived at a remote, small hut at the edge of Wudang. There, they finally stopped.

Heo Sanja, who had been looking at the dilapidated hut with a heavy gaze, spoke firmly.

"Stay here."

"Yes."

Heo Sanja took a deep breath and approached the door, speaking with a respectful tone unbefitting his position.

"Sect Leader. Are you inside? It's Heo San."

Anyone who saw this would find it strange. Currently, the Sect Leader of Wudang should be Heo Sanja. But Heo Sanja was calling the person inside the hut the Sect Leader. There can't be two Sect Leaders in one generation, yet he addressed the person inside with such a title.

However, those who followed Heo Sanja seemed accustomed to this situation, accepting his odd behavior as normal.

"Come in."

Upon receiving permission, Heo Sanja immediately opened the door and stepped into the hut. As soon as he took in the sight before him, his face stiffened momentarily.

Simplicity is fundamental to a Taoist, but this bleak hut was in such disrepair that it had cracks everywhere, making it feel more like a place of penance than one for training.

Heo Sanja's gaze shifted to one corner, where an old man with white hair, dressed in a worn and tattered Taoist robe, sat. Heo Sanja respectfully greeted him.

"Heo San greets the Sect Leader."

The old man returned the greeting with equal respect, but soon a hint of reprimand flickered across his face.

"Sect leader, disciple. How many times must I tell you that I am no longer the Sect Leader of Wudang?"

"Please do not say such things, Sect Leader. How could someone as inadequate as I assume the position of Wudang's Sect Leader? It is a known fact that I am temporarily holding this unworthy position due to unavoidable circumstances."

In response to Heo Sanja's humble reply, the old man, Heo Dojin, let out a deep sigh. He had repeatedly told and even scolded them not to call him that, but neither the elders nor Heo Sanja heeded his words.

Although his once pitch-black hair and Guan Yu-like magnificent beard had turned white, making it hard to recognize his former self, his cold face and sharp eyes had not changed much. In fact, the depth in his eyes now exuded a transcendental quality that was not there before.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Have you not heard that the Evil Tyrant Alliance is heading this way?"

Heo Dojin did not reply, but the heavy fall of his gaze indicated that he was already aware of the news.

"What should we do, Sect Leader?"

When there was no answer, Heo Sanja prompted him again.

"The elders are saying we are outnumbered. It is practically impossible to fend them off with only the strength of Wudang."

"Practically impossible..."

"Yes, hence they are suggesting we use the strategy of Golden Cicada Shedding its Shell."

"Golden Cicada Shedding its Shell... In other words, you mean to escape."

"That is the consensus among the elders."

"Do you share the same thoughts, Sect Leader disciple?"

"I... do not know. I am not sure what truly is the right path for Wudang..."

Heo Sanja's voice trailed off.

It was a difficult decision. Fighting the enemy head-on was almost suicidal. The current Evil Tyrant Alliance is not the same as before. They had already trampled over Shaolin, the Peng Family, and the Kongtong Sect.

It was nearly impossible for Wudang to face them alone. But they could not simply flee either. Wudang had not involved itself in worldly affairs since its seclusion, and if they were to retreat now, it would be seen as fleeing after reopening their gates, inviting all kinds of ridicule.

Neither practicality nor honor could be easily abandoned. Thus, Heo Sanja understood just how difficult the decision made by Heo Dojin at the Yangtze River in the past must have been, regardless of whether it was right or wrong.

"This is too difficult for me. Please guide me, Sect Leader."

"...Golden Cicada Shedding its Shell."

Heo Dojin murmured to himself, nodding slowly.

"The most important thing is not to lose Wudang's disciples in vain. Go to Shaolin. If you join forces with the remaining disciples of Shaolin there, you should be able to hold out until the Heavenly Comrade Alliance's support arrives."

Heo Sanja, who had almost instinctively nodded, suddenly paused. There was something strange in Heo Dojin's words.

It felt odd.

"...Go? What do you mean by that?"

Heo Sanja asked in confusion, but Heo Dojin did not answer. Heo Sanja felt a bit anxious.

"Of course, the Sect Leader must lead us. How can you say such a thing?"

"...."

"Sect Leader?"

As Heo Sanja pressed for an answer, Heo Dojin gave a faint smile.

"Once, we can retreat."

"...."

"But twice, we cannot. Once we retreat a second time, the meaning of the first retreat is also determined. Wudang will forever be criticized for fleeing twice because we feared for our lives. That must not happen."

"But, Sect Leader, still..."

"Therefore, we must prove it. That Wudang does not retreat out of mere fear. That we are willing to fight against them."

"...."

"Take the disciples and go to Shaolin. I will stay here and protect what I failed to protect in the past."

"What do you mean by that? What is it that you failed to protect?"

At that moment, a chilling coldness flashed in Heo Dojin's eyes.

"Mount Hua's honor."

The weight of those brief words seemed to crush the surroundings in an instant. Hyeon Sang also flinched, as if he felt suffocated. The aura emanating from Heo Dojin was so sharp that even his fellow disciples felt it intensely.

"Sect Leader."

"The honor that I, no one else, discarded and buried in the deep waters of the Yangtze River."

Heo Dojin's voice was like a blade honed over a very long time.

"I just want to protect it. This time, absolutely."

Hyeon Sang felt his breath catch.

He desperately wanted to stop him, to say it was meaningless.

But how could he?

He knew. He knew what kind of life Heo Dojin had lived since Wudang closed its doors. He knew how Heo Dojin had lived a life of excruciating penance, bearing the cost of his actions.

What could Hyeon Sang possibly say in front of such a Heo Dojin? Heo Dojin spoke in a calm voice.

"Gather the disciples. The sooner the decision, the better."

"Yes, Sect Leader."

"Master."

As Hyeon Sang still hesitated, Heo Dojin's tone changed. At the sudden shift in his demeanor, Hyeon Sang nodded without daring to reply.

"Lead the disciples to Shaolin. Leave behind only those who will stand with me."

Heo Dojin slowly got up from his seat.

"I don't need anyone to die with me. But it's fine if a few are willing to die for Mount Hua's honor. I will make sure their deaths are not in vain."

"Sect Leader...."

"No need to stop me."

A chilling smile blossomed on Heo Dojin's lips.

"Since that day, that moment, I have lived only waiting for now."

Heo Dojin quietly murmured as he looked up at the old ceiling.

There was no lie in his words that he had awaited this day.

There is only one thing.

When he closed his eyes, a face constantly surfaced in his mind. The face of a man who grabbed him by the collar, pouring out his resentment. Alongside Jang Ilso, who mocked him that day, it was a face he had never forgotten for a single moment.

"I regret not getting a chance to apologize. But it doesn't matter."

The smile that had been fixed on his lips softened ever so slightly.

"An apology is not something you make with words."

The meaning would eventually be conveyed.

Through his death.

Even to that man far away.