Return of the Mount Hua Sect (HTL 1634+)

Thud.

The masked man's steps led him outside the camp.

All the martial artists affiliated with the Evil Tyrant Alliance were prohibited from leaving the designated area by their superiors. However, this did not apply to the masked man.

Several eyes shot glances at him as he approached the camp's boundary. Yet, just as quickly, those eyes averted once they recognized his appearance.

Despite being aware of these glances, the masked man showed no reaction. It wasn't that he was ignoring them or that he was indifferent. It simply felt meaningless to him.

The masked man's steps crossed the vast plain toward a small mountain. After venturing deep into the mountain, several tents appeared in front of him.

A place far removed from the base set up by Evil Tyrant Alliance. Most of the martial artists of Evil Tyrant Alliance might not even know that such a campsite existed nearby.

The masked man, staring at the tents with dark eyes, opened the entrance to the foremost tent and entered.

As soon as he stuck his head inside, a rancid smell stung his nose.

The stale stench of humans, the drying smell of rotting blood, and the rusty smell of poorly maintained metal all mingled together, making it suffocating.

Although it was still daylight, the inside of the tent was dim.

The masked man's vision slowly adjusted to the darkness.

He could see those lying on the rough mats scattered around. Although they must have sensed his presence, not one of them even glanced his way.

Only the faint sounds of breathing from various corners indicated that they were alive.

Most people seeing this sight would think of a barracks for defeated soldiers or a prison for captives. Even the masked man thought the same.

Thud.

Feeling the stale air, the masked man stepped forward. Then he spoke to those who didn't even glance at him.

"Attention."

He meant for them to pay attention for a moment, but no one responded to his words.

"...A letter has arrived."

However, his next words elicited a response. Those who had been motionless, indistinguishable between the living and the dead, slowly turned their gazes toward the masked man.

They wore dirty martial robes, each with a black mask covering their faces. Through the holes in their masks, empty-looking eyes stared out.

The masked man took a letter from his chest and tossed it to the closest person.

"There is no particular issue."

"..."

The person who received the letter silently checked its contents. Then, with a careless gesture, he passed the letter to the next person.

Their movements were sluggish.

There was no sense of interest from the person passing the letter or the one receiving it. However, the process of reading the letter and passing it to the next person continued uninterrupted.

It took quite a while for everyone to check the letter. The last person who read the letter folded it again and handed it back to the first masked man.

The masked man, who received the letter back and stowed it away, looked around once and then turned his body. He had a duty to show this letter to those in the other tents as well.

What stopped the masked man's steps was a small sound someone made.

"Heh."

The masked man turned towards the direction of the sound and cast a cold glance, but the one who had laughed remained unperturbed.

"I don't get it."

He spoke in a weak voice. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it as a lifeless voice.

"Whether it's fortunate or..."

The rest of his words didn't come out, but everyone there knew what he was going to say.

"What do you want to say?"

"No. I just laughed. This means we'll have to continue being their dogs for a while."

The corner of the masked man's eyes faintly twitched.

"Fortunate, isn't it? Isn't it too fortunate?"

"Shut up."

"Why? I said it's fortunate. Or do you perhaps... not think so?"

The corner of the speaker's mouth twisted as he sat on the mat.

"Could it be that you feel regret...?"

"You!"

Swoosh!

In an instant, a sword was drawn and thrust towards the speaker's neck like lightning. The sharp tip of the sword touched the exposed neck under the mask, and a drop of blood trickled down.

However, the person with the sword at his neck showed no reaction.

It wasn't because he was particularly brave. It was just that he wouldn't feel anything even if his head were to be cut off at that moment.

The masked man, reading the deep nihilism in the other's eyes, bit his lip and withdrew his sword. Then, as if he couldn't stand to look anymore, he turned away sharply and spat out a final word he couldn't suppress.

"No matter what you say, nothing will change. No one forced you to make this choice."

Another low laugh emerged. It was a self-mocking laugh, not a sneer.

"When is the next battle?"

"...I don't know yet."

"I see."

There were no further words.

But the masked man knew. Behind the question about the next battle lay a wish that it might be better to lose their lives in battle than continue living like this.

"Does dying really end it? If it were that simple, we wouldn't be wearing these masks."

A few people silently lowered their heads.

Even a self-mocking laugh escaped from the masked man's mouth.

"There's no hell left for us to fall into. You should know that."

"…..."

"Stop thinking about it. If your head is cluttered, get some more sleep."

Knowing full well the sharp gazes and sighs of despair behind him, the masked man ignored them and left the tent.

Sunlight suddenly poured onto his face.

Feeling the scorching sun, he adjusted the mask covering his face. He wished the light wouldn't touch him, that no one could see his face.

'Not much time left.'

Or... is that really true?

This war would end one way or another. But would there really be an end for them?

He lowered his head, avoiding the sky above, and walked toward the next tent.

From a distance, dark clouds were slowly rolling in, as if to hide him from the sky.

* * *

"He's not here."

"I figured."

Zhuge Jonghyo's face showed a flicker of irritation as he tossed out his response without much disappointment.

How many days would they continue this pointless search? After scouring Mount Wudang, they were now ordered to search the surrounding villages.

Do they really expect to find a single person in this vast world?

"If we've searched this much and haven't found him, he must have gone far by now."

"But it's strange, isn't it, hyung-nim? He's someone who lost his martial arts..."

"Still, he was still the Deputy Sect Leader of Mount Hua."

"Without martial arts, he's just the same as anyone else, isn't he?"

"Watch your mouth."

"...I'm sorry."

Though he reprimanded him harshly, Zhuge Jonghyo's thoughts weren't much different.

'Baek Cheon.'

The renowned Mount Hua Swordsman Baek Cheon. The leader of the illustrious Five Swords of Mount Hua, and the designated successor of the Mount Hua sect. Perhaps the most promising swordsman in Kangho.

'It's unfortunate.'

He could understand why the superiors were going to such lengths to find Baek Cheon.

But even so, it didn't change the fact that this was pointless.

'This is nothing but a waste.'

No matter how great he was in the past, now he was just an ordinary person who had lost his martial arts. What was the point of finding such a person?

Even if he hadn't lost his martial arts, it would be the same.

In the face of an impending great war with the Evil Tyrant Alliance, mobilizing people just to find the whereabouts of one person was an excessive waste. It's not as if this one person could change the course of the war.

"Huft."

A low sigh escaped Zhuge Jonghyo's lips. A cautious voice came from beside him.

"Hyung-nim."

"What?"

"Shouldn't we just say we should give up now? We don't have a say, but surely gaju-nim understands the situation?"

Zhuge Jonghyo did not respond.

"Even if you don't say it, everyone has their complaints. Why...?"

"Then keep your mouth shut."

"Hyung-nim."

"Stop wasting time and keep searching."

"...Yes."

Zhuge Jonghyo sighed subtly and turned away.

'Foolish...'

He had already voiced such straightforward opinions multiple times. The patriarchs also knew this was a futile effort.

Nevertheless, the reason why he couldn't insist strongly was simple.

It was because Mount Hua and Southern Edge Sect were the most active in this exhausting search. Even the Tang family was subtly supporting them.

When the factions with the most influence in the Heavenly Comrade Alliance spoke in unison, the voice of the Zhuge family, which joined the alliance late as remnants of the Five Great Families, could not be heard.

"We just need to hold on a little longer."

"…..."

"If we endure for just one or two more days, they'll realize that this is meaningless."

"Would people who understand that be doing this in the first place?"

"At the very least, we would have a reason to speak out strongly."

A sigh escaped the mouth of Zhuge Dongin, his cousin.

"Yes, yes. I understand. You mean we should continue this meaningless task for now."

"…..."

"Honestly, I don't see how this is any different from what we did with the 10 great sects. I had hoped the Heavenly Comrade Alliance would be slightly better."

"A loose tongue invites trouble."

"I get it."

Zhuge Jonghyo clicked his tongue briefly.

Of course, his words weren't entirely wrong. The Heavenly Comrade Alliance of the past was certainly not like this. How envious they had been of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance while working with the 10 great sects.

But the current Heavenly Comrade Alliance does not feel as vibrant as it once did. Will an overgrown alliance inevitably follow the same path?

'No. The cause must be elsewhere.'

When the Heavenly Comrade Alliance first started to make a name for itself in the world, one name always accompanied it. But recently, that name hasn't been heard much.

Wasn't it from then? When the vibrancy left the Heavenly Comrade Alliance, and more people began to feel stifled.

'Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword, Cheong Myeong.'

What is he thinking now? He should be the one most agitated by Baek Cheon's incident, yet he is unusually quiet.

Has he changed because he leads a large group? Or...

Zhuge Jonghyo, pondering this and that, soon shook his head.

It was not something he could understand through speculation alone. For now, he had to properly handle the task at hand. Clearing his mind, he began searching the surroundings in silence.

And in a place beyond their sight... red eyes glinted.

The Blood Cult Lord smirked as he watched two people walk out of the village. Roaming below the mountain with just the two of them.

"I didn't expect thorough vigilance, but this feels like outright disregard."

Did they think Evil Tyrant Alliance would never attack? Or was finding that Baek Cheon more important?

"Your orders, Cult Lord."

"Hmm."

The Blood Cult Lord's eyes grew cold.

Logically, it was highly likely to be a trap. There were quite a few smart people in the Heavenly Comrade Alliance.

But...

"There's no harm in trying."

"Treading on the grass to startle the snake," when you stir the grass, the snake comes out.

"If we're going to stir, we should do it thoroughly."

The corners of the Blood Cult Lord's mouth twisted into a sinister smile.

"Kill anyone who stands out."

"Yes!"

The cultists he led forward shot out like venomous snakes. The Blood Cult Lord's red eyes blazed as he watched.