Return of the Mount Hua Sect (HTL 1634+)

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Yoon Jong's eyes widened in shock.

"That... crazy bastard..."

His gaze was locked onto Jo Geol.

However, it wasn't in a negative sense. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, Yoon Jong used the term 'crazy bastard' in a positive way to describe someone.

Those unfamiliar with Mount Hua wouldn't have understood, but Yoon Jong saw it clearly—the act Jo Geol had just performed.

'The sword...'

The sword strike that bloomed plum blossoms at its tip was unlike anything in Mount Hua's sword techniques. Not even Cheong Myeong had ever wielded such a sword.

Of course, it was still crude, and the plum blossoms were laughably rough..... but even so, they had bloomed.

New plum blossoms. Jo Geol's own plum blossoms. Yoon Jong might have been the sole witness to this moment.

Had Jo Geol known all along?

Did he realize that, compared to the extraordinarily elegant Yoo Iseol or the textbook-perfect Baek Cheon, his swordsmanship—focused on speed—couldn't fully bring out the essence of Mount Hua's sword technique? Was that why he created a new form of the technique after much contemplation, centering on speed?

'No way. That idiot.'

Yoon Jong laughed helplessly at the absurdity of it.

It was impossible for such deep reflection to have existed in that fool's head. If so, that sword must have been born entirely out of instinct. It was the culmination of his accumulated experience, acting as fertilizer and foundation, that had given rise to a new form of swordsmanship.

Even if it was merely a glimpse of what was to come.

It was then that Yoon Jong realized his hands were trembling with excitement.

Though this wasn't the time for such feelings, the excitement was even harder to suppress because of the circumstances.

'Perhaps that guy truly has the potential to become the Sword of Mount Hua.'

While it was evident Jo Geol had talent, even Yoon Jong hadn't expected it to be to this extent. It wasn't because he was inattentive but because the talents surrounding Jo Geol were so dazzling.

Hye Yeon, praised as a prodigy of Shaolin in a century. Yoo Iseol, destined to leave her name in the history of Mount Hua. Baek Cheon, raised as the pride of Mount Hua, embodying its essence. And, of course, the brilliant Cheong Myeong, whose presence left one speechless and breathless.

Yet, even among these luminaries, Jo Geol did not lose his brilliance. And now, he was finally beginning to bloom fully into his potential.

"Damn kid."

It seems a sahyung was still a sahyung. Despite the envy, a deep sense of pride welled up within him. But Yoon Jong temporarily set aside that pride swelling in his chest.

For now, he wasn't Jo Geol's sahyung. He was the one leading Mount Hua on the battlefield.

"Don't let Jo Geol be the only one running wild! Show them that Mount Hua isn't strong because of one person but because we're strong together!"

❀ ❀ ❀

Gwak Hoe bit his lower lip slightly.

[tl note: For Gwak Hoe, I think sometimes in another translation, his name was Gwak/Kwak and Hoe/Hei/Hui]

The moment he heard Yoon Jong's voice, he knew. Jo Geol must have done something extraordinary again.

In truth, he already sensed it even before Yoon Jong spoke. The atmosphere had changed in the direction where Jo Geol had charged forward.

'What a remarkable guy.'

Though he was foolish in many ways, there was no denying it.

Meanwhile—

Kaaaang!

A Red Dog's sword flew at him with crushing force, aiming to flatten him entirely. He managed to block it with his sword, but the pressure on his muscles made them feel like they were about to burst.

His heart throbbed, and his toes tingled.

"You little pest…"

But it wasn't the weight behind the sword nor the growling voice that was most oppressive—it was the feral and savage glint in the Red Dog's eyes. Those beast-like eyes clung to him and made him tremble.

Fear. There was no point in trying to deny it. There was no escaping it.

Still, Gwak Hoe summoned all his strength and pushed the sword back.

"Haaap!"

Plum blossoms materialized from his sword and flew toward the Red Dog.

"Not a chance!"

Kaaang!

The Red Dog's sword swept through the plum blossoms, scattering them effortlessly. With just a single movement, the intricately deployed Plum Blossom Swordsmanship was obliterated.

Immature techniques were utterly useless against overwhelming power.

He'd learned and experienced that lesson countless times.

Thud!

A kick landed squarely on Gwak Hoe's chest. Though he barely managed to block it with his left arm, he couldn't completely mitigate the impact and was pushed backward.

"Wearing plum blossoms doesn't change the fact that you're just a weakling."

Gwak Hoe brushed his throbbing arm and let out a deep sigh.

'A weakling, huh...'

He couldn't deny it. The world didn't even know his name. He was just a nameless swordfighter of Mount Hua. Now, it's ambiguous to call him a young disciple, just a disciple of Mount Hua. That was Gwak Hoe's identity and entirety.

However....

He glanced down at the plum blossoms engraved on his chest.

"…Seems like you don't understand."

Jo Geol had already moved far ahead of him. The distance felt vast, growing ever wider. Yet, Gwak Hoe didn't despair.

Because he had no choice but to acknowledge it. Jo Geol's brilliance was incomparable to his own. Instead, he drew strength from that light, which led him forward.

Because they were different. Jo Geol was different from Cheong Myeong, Baek Cheon, and Yoo Iseol.

"That's what matters most."

Gwak Hoe gripped his sword tightly. There was no need to force himself to get excited. No need to recklessly push his spirit.

"Bastard!"

From the start, everything he needed was within him.

Giiiiiiing!

The Red Dog's sword came flying straight down with devastating force. The deafening sound of air being torn apart shook his ears. Yet, even against such immense power, Gwak Hoe's sword did not waver.

'Keep it simple.'

Gwak Hoe's sword met the descending sword head-on.

'Keep it flowing.'

Kaaang! Kaaang! Kaaang!

His sword repeatedly struck against the sword, parrying its trajectory. In the brief moment when the sword hesitated, Gwak Hoe seized his chance.

'Quickly.'

Paaaat!

Gwak Hoe's sword extended in a straight, piercing thrust. Simple and unguarded. Yet, for that very reason, it was swifter than any strike he'd executed before.

The Red Dog hastily retracted his sword to defend.

'Dazzle them.'

Swish!

At that moment, Gwak Hoe's sword split into multiple strands, lashing out at Red Dog like a whip.

"That won't work!"

Clang!

A sharp metallic sound echoed as all the incoming strikes were blocked by Red Dog's sword. However, the movements were far from meaningless. Thanks to this, Gwak Hoe got a chance to deploy his sword.

Boom!

Gwak Hoe slammed his sword down, forcing his opponent back momentarily. With a deep breath, he infused his blade with energy.

'Spread it wide.'

The tip of his sword trembled, and dozens of blossoms began to bloom—vivid, bold, and distinct, unlike the hastily formed petals of a moment ago.

Twenty-Four Blossoms Plum Blossom Sword Technique.

Endless Plum Blossoms. [maehwadodo, 매화도도(梅花滔滔)]

The plum blossom torrent he unleashed surged toward the Red Dog like a pure river.

The Red Dog hurriedly swung his sword in all directions. However, the dull sword wall he had built in a hurry could not be perfect. His heavy sword couldn't seal every gap, and Gwak Hoe's plum blossom sword aura seeped through the cracks.

Slash! Slash!

Gwak Hoe's plum blossom sword energy deeply brushed Red Dog's flesh.

Thud.

Red Dog staggered back a step, glaring fiercely at Gwak Hoe.

Though Gwak Hoe had landed a strike, it didn't mean he had gained the upper hand. It was merely a single successful attack.

Yet, the atmosphere between them had shifted.

Red Dog's gaze no longer carried disdain. It lacked the fury of being wounded by someone he deemed insignificant. It was the gaze of an equal acknowledging a foe.

That single strike had earned Red Dog's respect—a recognition that Gwak Hoe had clawed out with his sword.

If the opponent is Red Dog of Jang Ilso, it's something to take pride in.

'I've worked hard too.'

Though Gwak Hoe's skills and reputation didn't rival Jo Geol's, none of the disciples of Mount Hua had lacked effort. Not in recent years. No one in the world could claim to have lived with more dedication.

"That's why it matters. I have a plum blossom engraved on my chest."

Gwak Hoe murmured, taking a short breath. 

"I am a swordsman of Mount Hua." 

How much pride it held, a pride that no one who wasn't part of Mount Hua could ever understand. And that name carried all the weight in the world.

"So come on, you bastard! I'll cut you down myself!"

❀ ❀ ❀

The adjutants of the military warfare who were monitoring the situation right behind the front lines could not hide their bewilderment. They could not believe that the situation was worse than they had thought.

'Why?'

The commanders of the Evil Tyrant Alliance focused all their might on the front lines, believing a swift, overwhelming attack would end the battle decisively. They'd even deployed the Red Dogs earlier than planned.

Although it was deployed earlier than planned, he had no doubt that their joining would instantly collapse the stagnant front line. The Red Dogs was that great of a force.

Kwaaaaah!

From time to time, bursts of sword energy erupted from the battlefield, shaking the air. The raw power on display was nothing less than what they'd heard of Red Dog's fearsome reputation.

And yet, the enemy's lines were holding.

"Why?"

As if answering the question, red plum blossoms began to bloom across the battlefield.

"Ugh…."

Now, just the sight of those plum blossoms made their stomachs churn.

That was it. The Plum Blossom Sword Technique of Mount Hua was stopping Red Dog in their tracks.

"Come and see! Jang Ilso's dogs!"

"Is that all you've got? Even mangy mutts are fiercer than you!"

The disciples of Mount Hua were standing their ground against Red Dog's might.

"Why?"

Was it because Mount Hua was strong? No, that wasn't an acceptable answer.

Of course, Mount Hua was formidable. But Red Dog's power was supposed to overwhelm them. It should have been enough.

"Then why is this happening?! Why on earth!"

A desperate, enraged cry escaped the adjutant's lips. 

❀ ❀ ❀

"....How stupid."

Cheong Myeong muttered coldly.

How could they think this would be so easy? This was Mount Hua they were facing.

It wasn't blind faith in his sect.

The disciples of Mount Hua had always been this way. They trained with him, sparring day after day, pushing themselves to the brink of their limits.

'These Mount Hua lunatics never fought anyone weaker than themselves.'

From their first proper contest at the Mount Hua-Zhongnan Conference until now, they had always faced stronger opponents.

These were people who had survived those trials. They wouldn't fall so easily.

Cheong Myeong believed in them—not because of what he had done, but because of the path they had walked. Because of the righteousness engraved in their hearts.

They were different from Cheong Myeong. Where he lacked, they would fill the gaps for one another. That's what it meant to be comrades. That's what the Heavenly Comrade Alliance was for.

So the place Cheong Myeong needed to be wasn't where his comrades were.

Cheong Myeong turned his gaze forward. Though obscured by the mass of bodies, he could feel it clearly.

'Jang Ilso.'

He was there, the root of all this chaos.

With dark, determined eyes, Cheong Myeong took a step forward—or at least, he intended to.

"Mount Hua Chivalrous Sword. Am I right?"

A voice interrupted him. Slowly, he turned his head.

Not far away, a masked man was approaching.

Cheong Myeong frowned, his disbelief evident.

'How did I allow him to get this close?'

Though his condition wasn't perfect, to not even sense the man's presence until now….

And then, the answer dawned on him. There was no hint of the malicious aura typical of the evil sects emanating from this man. In fact, his energy was so pure and righteous that it didn't register as a threat.

That realization only deepened the mystery.

"It seems to be true."

The masked man said softly, his tone calm.

The faint movement of the mask near his mouth suggested he was smiling.

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time. Very much so."

The man stopped just in front of Cheong Myeong and slowly drew his sword.

The bluish sword aura reflecting on the sword felt chillingly sorrowful for some reason.