Show Me What a Real Mess Looks Like (5)
A grand hall.
Countless people had gathered around the one seated in the seat of honor. The solemn aura they exuded painted the hall in silence.
Shaolin’s Abbot, Beop Jeong, who sat at the head, slowly swept his gaze over everyone before opening his mouth.
"Thank you all for accepting the invitation from this temple. It must have been a long and tiring journey."
Beop Jeong brought his palms together and bowed.
The sect leaders who received the Shaolin Abbot’s greeting returned warm smiles and exchanged polite pleasantries.
"If Shaolin calls, how could we refuse? We should be the ones thanking you for the invitation."
Beop Jeong gave a brief Buddhist chant and said with a grave expression, "The reason this temple has hosted the Heavenly Underworld Martial Arts Conference this time is that the gatherings among the sects have been far too sparse over the past hundred years. The wounds the Demonic Sect left upon the jianghu were too deep, and it took far too long for those wounds to heal."
At the mention of the Demonic Sect, everyone grew somber.
Which of the sects gathered here had not suffered beneath the Demonic Sect’s hand?
"But now a hundred years have passed, and the jianghu has recovered much of its former strength. Unfortunately, that has also led to a variety of problems."
At those words, several sect leaders let out low, awkward coughs.
When a pool fills too high, it is only natural for it to overflow.
Recently, sects that had recovered their strength had begun colliding more and more often with their neighbors. Having rebuilt enough power, they were now starting to covet other sects’ territory.
For the moment, everyone still tried to preserve appearances, so no matter how bad things got, they had not yet turned openly hostile. But if things continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before a major incident erupted.
"So I hope this Heavenly Underworld Martial Arts Conference will allow the sects to meet, build better relations, and grow closer. The responsibility resting on everyone gathered here is a heavy one."
His tone was gentle and did not lean on authority at all.
"Of course, Abbot."
And because of that, his authority only stood out more clearly. The warm, soft atmosphere continued.
Then, one person quietly spoke up.
"May I presume to ask the Abbot a question?"
Everyone’s gaze turned in one direction.
A red face and a long black beard.
A figure worthy of being called the earthly incarnation of Guan Yu. He was none other than Wudang’s Sect Leader, Heo Do-jin-in.
"If Sect Leader Heo Do has something to teach us, then by all means."
"Teach? That would be improper."
Heo Do-jin-in quietly looked at Beop Jeong.
When the two giants leading the current jianghu faced each other, the air in the hall grew heavy all at once.
"Gathering the sects for a meeting was truly a fine deed. First, allow me to thank the Abbot for undertaking something I, with my limited capacities, never would have thought to do."
"How could Sect Leader Heo Do speak of capacities? This humble monk is humbled."
"I’m grateful beyond words that you say so. However…"
His eyes, full of sharp light, fixed squarely on Beop Jeong.
"I do not think the Abbot went to such lengths and summoned all of us here merely to foster a meeting. There must have been some other reason for bringing every famous sect and great faction in the world together in one place…"
Seeing Heo Do-jin-in trail off, Beop Jeong smiled faintly.
"Indeed, Sect Leader, your mind is truly deep. It is more than I could ever hope to match. Amitabha."
"Then…?"
Beop Jeong gave a heavy nod.
"I had intended to speak of this only after the entire conference had concluded. But since matters have come to this, I will speak here and now."
Beop Jeong gave a soft Buddhist chant two or three times. The solemnity of his expression made everyone sit a little straighter.
"Word has reached us that movements of demonic men have been detected in the Great Mountains."
"Demons!"
"The Great Mountains!"
The Great Mountains.
The Hundred Thousand Great Mountains.
Heo Do-jin-in’s expression hardened as he asked Beop Jeong, "Is that true?"
"The Beggars’ Sect claims they discovered traces of demonic men."
"I see. So the shattered Demonic Sect has begun moving again."
"Amitabha."
Beop Jeong let out another quiet chant.
"As all of you know, the jianghu never truly defeated the Demonic Sect. We merely cut off the head of their leader and drove them back."
In one corner, Hyun Jong, who had been listening quietly to their conversation, closed his eyes.
Did they really drive them back?
No. That was not true.
Having lost the Heavenly Demon, the Demonic Sect had invaded Mount Hua in revenge.
Their war may have ended in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, but Mount Hua’s war had not.
And yet the desperate battle that had taken place at Mount Hua was never so much as mentioned in the histories of the jianghu.
Even those who knew the past clearly enough were closing their eyes, pretending that that brutal bloodshed had never existed.
If this had been the Hyun Jong of the past, he would not have been able to endure this conversation.
But the current him was not that man.
Just as lost strength can be recovered, so too can lost history.
Hyun Jong clenched his fist and quietly listened to their conversation.
"In other words, the Demonic Sect did not simply lose all its strength and retreat. They only bided their time for the future. Everyone here knows that."
"Hmm. That is true, Abbot."
"It is a fact we cannot ignore."
Beop Jeong looked at everyone with grave eyes and said, "We have not yet found signs of their open resurgence. We have only sighted a few demonic men. But the fact that they have again appeared in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, which they once abandoned, carries great meaning. Perhaps they are preparing for another war."
The atmosphere sank heavily.
Demonic Sect.
Anyone who could not feel the weight carried by that name had no right to sit here.
"Then we should prepare."
At Heo Do-jin-in’s words, Beop Jeong nodded.
"But for now, it is only speculation."
"If it concerns the Demonic Sect, even speculation should not be taken lightly."
"That is why I gathered you all here."
Beop Jeong gave a chant and spoke with solemn eyes.
"Perhaps the time has come for the jianghu to join hands once more. So I ask you all to set aside petty grievances through this conference and strengthen your bonds of friendship. Though you live under different names, do not forget that you are all members of the jianghu. Amitabha."
At Beop Jeong’s words, everyone nodded quietly.
But what they were thinking inwardly was impossible to know.
Heo Do-jin-in also narrowed his eyes and looked at Beop Jeong.
The Demonic Sect stirring again.
If true, it was indeed dangerous.
But there was no naive fool here who would believe this whole event had started simply because of concern over the Demonic Sect.
He intends to seize the initiative again.
Using the excuse of the Demonic Sect’s resurgence, and the strength they would display at the Heavenly Underworld Martial Arts Conference, he was surely trying to solidify Shaolin’s position once more as the Northern Dipper of the martial world.
It won’t go as the elder intends.
Heo Do-jin-in’s gaze sank lower and lower.
"Starting tomorrow, we will hold the Heavenly Underworld Martial Arts Conference. From ancient times, martial contests have always been a good place to confirm each other’s accomplishments and strengthen friendships."
"Indeed, Abbot."
"I hope this martial contest will also become a fine opportunity to deepen everyone’s ties. Amitabha."
The sect leaders nodded with pleasant expressions.
But none of them thought tomorrow’s contest would be merely a place to make friends.
Determining the relative standing of sects was no easy matter.
Unless two sects actually went to war and thrust blades into each other, there was no choice but to estimate the other side’s strength vaguely.
For such sects, a martial contest in which even the second-generation disciples took part was an excellent proxy war.
A master’s skill could be measured through his disciples’ skill.
Without question, tomorrow’s Heavenly Underworld Martial Arts Conference would become an important stage that reshaped the ranking of the world’s sects.
The sect that wins will claim all the glory of the jianghu for a while.
Everyone’s eyes filled with ambition.
Everyone’s, except one.
The next morning.
The Mount Hua disciples, fully prepared, gathered in front of their lodgings. Hyun Jong stood before them and looked down at the disciples lined up in front of him.
"Well then."
He cleared his throat loudly.
"Are you all prepared?"
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Baek Cheon answered on behalf of everyone, cupping his fists. Seeing that heroic figure, Hyun Jong smiled with satisfaction.
"The contests that begin today will be a good experience for you. So I wish to say one thing to you."
Everyone strained their ears, waiting for the Sect Leader’s next words.
"What would change if you won?"
"…."
Their eyes wavered, filled with confusion.
Seeing those gazes, Hyun Jong said calmly, "And what would change if you lost?"
Only then did Baek Cheon slowly nod.
Now he thought he understood.
Hyun Jong quietly shook his head.
"Victory and defeat are not what matter. Producing a result in this conference is not what matters. The effort you have poured into preparing for this competition is far more important than the result."
Hyun Jong continued in a solemn voice, "I am not trying to say that process matters and result does not. If you win this contest, you will be granted honor. But the effort before that has given you skill. I want you to become people who pursue skill you can hold in your own hands, not hollow honor."
"We will remember your words! Sect Leader!"
"Yes, yes. That is enough."
Hyun Jong nodded.
"An old man holding back those who must go out to the battlefield for too long would be no good. Let us go. Whatever result awaits you, you are my proud disciples, and the proud disciples of Mount Hua. Never forget that."
"Yes!"
Hyun Jong slowly turned his head.
"Martial Hall Leader."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
"Say a word. You and Un Geom have the right to speak."
Hyun Sang hesitated with a slightly awkward face, then finally looked over everyone.
"Focus on bringing out every bit of skill you possess. Even defeat, if you fought with all you had, will lead you upward. But defeat without giving your all will only leave regret behind."
"We will remember it."
"Hmm. Such things are difficult for me, Sect Leader. Un Geom will finish."
At that, Un Geom quietly stepped forward.
As soon as he moved, the disciples’ eyes changed.
For them, Hyun Jong and Hyun Sang were respected elders of the sect, but Un Geom was different. He was the one they could truly call their teacher in Mount Hua.
"What is a sword?"
"A sword is the dao!"
"What is the dao?"
"The dao is simply the dao."
"Then what is a sword?"
"A sword is simply a sword!"
Un Geom smiled.
"Yes. A sword is simply a sword. The sword you have heard about until now is no different from the sword you will draw today. Trust the sword, and trust yourselves. Then the training you have done until now will answer you."
Everyone nodded.
Then Hyun Young suddenly stepped forward and said to the three of them, "Then let’s go."
"Huh?"
Without warning, he began shambling off toward the arena, dragging Hyun Jong and Hyun Sang along with him.
"You too, Un Geom. Come along."
"Yes, Elder."
Hyun Sang protested in bewilderment. "What about the children? Aren’t you taking the children with us?"
"Just come along. What’s the point of all of us going together? We’ll go first."
"Eh? Huh?"
As the adults, including the Sect Leader, were dragged away by Hyun Young, one person came trudging out from behind them.
"…."
Everyone stared at the one who stepped forward with sour expressions.
Of course, it was Chung Myung.
"You all heard what the Sect Leader said. Uh, so… what was it again?"
He tilted his head for a moment, then shrugged.
"Well, whatever."
Then he swept his gaze across them all.
Except for a few, they all looked terribly tense. Their faces were stiff, and their bodies seemed locked tight.
Seeing that, Chung Myung gave a snort of laughter.
Well, can’t blame them.
Aside from the few who had trained with Chung Myung, none of them had much experience fighting before other sects.
They had already frozen up and failed to show their true skill even at the Hwajong Jihoe, so of course their legs would wobble at the thought of fighting in front of so many people.
"Anyone here thinking they’re going to win?"
"…."
The Mount Hua disciples looked at one another.
"No one?"
"…."
Because you’re the one who’s going to snatch the damn victory, what are we supposed to do?
Their faces soured.
Chung Myung went on casually, "And yet you’re all so tense. You bunch can’t even win anyway."
"What was that, you punk?"
"Don’t worry. It’s fine to be tense. No need to loosen up."
"…Huh?"
Chung Myung grinned.
"I’ve already made it so you can’t lose even if you’re tense. If you want to lose, go ahead and try. At this point, even losing isn’t easy."
The Mount Hua disciples laughed helplessly.
Everyone here knew he wasn’t just saying that. They had really, literally, gone through bone-crushing training.
"You see the people gathered over there?"
When Chung Myung pointed toward the arena, Baek Cheon answered on everyone’s behalf, "We do."
"Then let’s go show them."
"…."
"Let’s show them what kind of sect Mount Hua was, the one they forgot."
Those words set the Mount Hua disciples’ hearts ablaze.
"Let’s go! Let’s take back the title of the world’s greatest sword sect."
There was no answer.
But behind Chung Myung’s lazy, swinging steps, the Mount Hua disciples followed with unwavering resolve.
For once, even Chung Myung’s face was not his usual bored mask.
Across his hardened features flickered a will he had long kept hidden.
You forgot us, did you?
You forgot Mount Hua?
That’s fine. I’ll make sure you remember.
He would carve the two words Mount Hua into their heads so they could never forget it again.
What kind of sect Mount Hua was…
Chung Myung glanced back at the second-generation and third-generation disciples, then lifted his head and shot a sidelong look at the sky.
Honestly, it’s a little different from before…
Well, whatever. This much should be fine…
- It’s way too different, you bastard!
Ah, shut up a little!
If you’re so wronged, then get up and live again!