Let Them Remember From Now On (2)
The law enforcer frowned.
So weak.
Watching the Ice Palace collapse so completely, he didn’t feel triumph so much as a nasty itch under his skin.
He had never once thought some pathetic place like the Ice Palace could stand against the Cult. And yet the sight before him was even more miserable than he had imagined.
Is this what happens to those who grow soft in peace and never whip themselves into shape?
Of course, the Cult’s true enemy wasn’t the riffraff of the North Sea, but the maggots of the Central Plains. Just because these people were so worthless didn’t mean one could lump them together with the Gupailbang and the Five Hegemons of the Jianghu. That would be a grave mistake.
They still lacked strength. Still.
Heavenly Demon’s descent.
The law enforcer clenched his fist.
The Heavenly Demon’s descent, and all under heaven shall bow.
How much longing was packed into that short invocation?
When the Heavenly Demon came down, he would sweep away every vile devil of the Central Plains and tear open the heavens of demonic rule.
And for that to happen, they had to recover the Ice Crystal, no matter what.
That day.
The day the Heavenly Demon was resurrected, the filthy unbelievers would be burned forever in the flames of purification—along with the apostates who had lost their faith and mocked the Cult’s devotees.
Crack.
The law enforcer, fist still clenched, raised his voice.
“You slow bastards! Hurry it up! The Bishop is waiting for us to return!”
“Yes, sir!”
Then it happened.
He stiffened.
Sensing something subtly wrong, the law enforcer jerked his head upward.
...What?
He could clearly see several cultists climbing the wall.
What’s more, nearly ten of them had already entered through the broken opening.
So what was the problem...?
Squinting toward that side, the law enforcer’s eyes suddenly widened.
Through the gaping hole, something was clearly blooming outward like a cloud.
...Flowers?
BOOOOOOM!
Then, with a tremendous explosion, the Demonic Sect members who had pushed inside were sent flying back out.
The law enforcer’s eyes filled with suspicion.
Not everyone was sent flying. Some had certainly lost consciousness and fallen, but more than half had leapt back to avoid the enemy’s attack.
But that only made the law enforcer more baffled.
They’re retreating?
The Cult did not know retreat.
To back away while facing those lowly unbelievers was, for the devotees of the Heavenly Demon, a shame almost worse than death.
And yet not one or two, but four or five of them were retreating at once?
What in the world is happening inside...?
Fortunately, that question was answered before long.
Following the cultists who had been thrown back, a group of martial artists burst out in pursuit.
The law enforcer’s expression shook.
“Th—”
The tip of the sword wielded by the one leading the charge, leaping like a flying spider, caught the moonlight and burst with brilliance. It was such a fierce, unforgettable sight that it seemed seared into the eyes.
He couldn’t say exactly why, but for a moment he couldn’t tear his gaze away, as though his soul had been stolen.
...
After one sweeping slash, the man plunged downward like an arrow loosed from a bow. At the same time, from the tip of his sword, red flower-shaped sword qi began to blossom in streaming bursts, like blood.
“...Plum blossoms?”
The law enforcer’s mouth fell open before he realized it.
Chung Myung, wrapped in scattering petals, twisted as he descended, spinning lower and lower.
The men climbing the wall were horrified and leaped away, but the drifting plum blossoms showed no mercy and pierced straight through their bodies.
Whoosh!
A cultist whose carotid artery had been pierced clutched at his throat with both hands as blood sprayed out like a waterfall. But that was all. He could do nothing to stop his falling body.
Thud!
Thud thud thud!
One by one, those climbing the wall crashed to the ground, and Chung Myung, still whirling with plum blossom sword qi, landed right beside them.
Tap.
Spin.
The moment he touched down, Chung Myung reversed his grip on the sword and lowered his body slightly. His gaze, locked on the cultists convulsing as they struggled to rise, was colder than ice.
“You bast—”
BOOOOOOM!
“Amitabha.”
“...”
Before Chung Myung could even finish speaking, Hye Yeon came in from the air with a straight-up Hundred-Step Divine Fist and landed lightly at his side.
Hye Yeon looked delighted as he watched the cultist reduced to a pulp. Then, glancing sideways at Chung Myung’s sullen face, he scratched his head in embarrassment.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“...No. You did good.”
Yes, he had.
Too good, that was the problem.
Behind them, the Mount Hua disciples all landed in succession.
After confirming everyone was down, Chung Myung shot forward without another word. No more explanation was needed.
“Get the hell out of the way! You’re in the way!”
At his roar, the Ice Palace disciples, their faces already ghost-white, hurriedly scattered aside. They didn’t understand the situation, but instinct alone told them not to stand in the path of that savage Central Plains martial artist charging toward them.
Once the way opened, the black-robed cultists came fully into view.
Soaked in blood and muttering the same words over and over, they looked like demons made flesh, but Chung Myung only grinned, almost in ecstasy.
Bang!
He unleashed his lightness skill so roughly it seemed to crack the ground beneath him and instantly closed the distance.
Then he thrust his sword out. Or rather, tried to.
Before his blade could fully extend, another sword shot in from right beside his face and stabbed swiftly into a cultist.
Clang!
The cultist blocked it, but he couldn’t overcome the force and was shoved back several steps.
“Oh?”
Baek Cheon, who had thrust his sword in before Chung Myung, shouted again and pressed the attack with relentless precision.
“You little runt!”
At the cultist’s grinding snarl, Chung Myung’s brow twitched.
Little runt?
Well, I mean, he’s not wrong...
Fwoosh!
Chung Myung’s sword flashed and sliced him open in an instant. The cultist, now bearing a long wound from chest to belly, twisted his face and staggered back again.
“You’re not the sort of runt anyone gets to look down on!”
“Haah!”
Baek Cheon leapt into the air and scattered plum blossom sword qi. The red flowers took over the place Chung Myung was headed for and first threw the enemy’s hands and feet into confusion.
“That’s it!”
Without meaning to, Chung Myung let out a laugh and charged forward.
“Those bastards!”
With bloodshot eyes, the cultist swung his hand wildly. Black force burst from his pitch-dark hand, flying toward Chung Myung in a destructive shape that looked ready to blow his head apart.
But Chung Myung didn’t even glance at it. He simply drove his sword into the heart of the cultist in front of him.
And then—
Clang-clang-clang!
From behind him, a blade flashed like a spear of light and knocked away the force that had been flying at Chung Myung.
Gentle, yet swift!
With only the bare minimum of strength, Yu I-seol twisted the force off course, her eyes chillingly calm as she unleashed sword qi like lightning.
“Kgh!”
The cultists, sensing the razor-sharp sword qi that seemed ready to split their bodies apart, threw themselves quickly left and right to evade it.
But that was by no means a good decision.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
From behind Yu I-seol, Dang Soso’s thrown blades shot out in a rapid chase, doggedly pursuing the scattered cultists.
“You...”
“Leech-like—!”
At that moment, a fierce retort exploded from behind Chung Myung.
“The leeches are you!”
“Charge!”
Fwoosh!
Leaping over Chung Myung’s head in an instant, Yoon Jong and Jo Gul charged in and crashed into the cultists, scattering plum blossoms and shattering their formation.
There wasn’t the slightest hesitation, nor the slightest doubt.
Only resolute determination remained in their eyes.
The sword qi of the two men came down sharply on the cultists’ heads.
And then—
“This is...”
Chung Myung snorted and shot forward like a thunderbolt.
“Getting pretty damn fun, isn’t it, you lot!”
Fwoosh!
With a slicing sound that seemed to tear the air apart, Chung Myung’s sword cut diagonally through a stunned cultist’s body.
Slashhhhh!
Blood sprayed like a fountain from the wound, soaking Chung Myung from head to toe, but he didn’t even blink.
“Aaaaaaaaaaagh!”
The cultist whose chest had been cut screamed and charged at Chung Myung. The sight of him still running despite having half his heart sliced away was eerie, bordering on grotesque.
Anyone would have flinched.
But—
Crunch!
Chung Myung drove his sword cleanly into the charging cultist’s neck without the slightest hesitation.
“Urk...”
Slash! Slash!
That wasn’t all. In one stroke, he cut off the wrist swollen with black killing power, then severed the knee. And with the final slash, he took off the neck of the cultist who was losing his balance and toppling forward.
Whoosh!
The severed head spun through the air.
Not a single wobble in the sword’s tip.
A killing sword without even the slightest hesitation.
Chung Myung’s skill felt stronger than usual—twice as sharp, perhaps.
Having found an opponent he could use a sword purely to kill, Chung Myung went mad with delight like a fish returned to water.
“Youuuuuu bastard!”
The cultists, losing ground in momentum, no longer had the composure they’d shown against the Ice Palace disciples and roared in fury. But Chung Myung pounced and tore into them like a wolf starving for blood.
Crunch!
His sword struck the hand gripping a narrow blade. In an instant, the fingers were cut off and the blade dropped to the ground.
Slash!
Even after severing the wrist, his sword kept moving fiercely and cut into the shoulder.
Thud!
Then he stabbed one in the belly to halt the enemy’s movements for a moment before yanking the blade free and carving deep gashes into both thighs.
With both legs and the belly taken, there was no longer any chance of charging forward.
“Heav—”
As the cultist lurched, Chung Myung drove his knee into the man’s jaw.
Crash!
With a violent boom, the mangled body flew backward, spraying blood.
“Say it again! If your damn mouth still works!”
Chung Myung surged forward with murderous momentum, fire practically bursting from his eyes. Baek Cheon caught his movement and reacted at once.
“Follow him!”
“Yes, sir!”
As Baek Cheon dashed forward, the image of the Ice Palace disciples staring in stunned disbelief caught his eye.
Right. They’d be shocked. I’m shocked too.
The cultists the Mount Hua disciples were fighting now could not possibly be different from the ones those men had just faced.
And yet the Mount Hua disciples were throwing themselves into battle without feeling the slightest burden.
The gloom that had been strangling their hearts, the fear that had made their bodies tremble, was gone as if washed away.
What remained was only the surging exhilaration and a fullness of confidence.
With Chung Myung leading the charge, strength overflowed and confidence soared.
One absolute master could change the shape of the battlefield.
Only now did Baek Cheon understand why people said that. This was something no one could comprehend unless they experienced it firsthand.
Clack-clack-clack!
Chung Myung’s movements—cutting a man down with his sword, then thrusting through the neck—felt more than just nimble. They felt savage. Just imagining what kind of expression that bastard was making was enough to be terrifying.
Baek Cheon shouted to the disciples following him.
“Don’t let him do it alone! We are Mount Hua!”
“Yes, Sasuk!”
“Of course!”
The Mount Hua disciples charged in a frenzy of competition, and behind them Hye Yeon’s deep Buddhist chant rang out.
Fwoosh!
As another cultist’s head flew, hot blood sprayed across Chung Myung’s face. He licked his lips and twisted the corner of his mouth. Killing intent poured from his flashing eyes.
What a strange feeling.
As he carried out this filthy slaughter again, a faint sense of familiarity—and even something like longing—rose in him. The smell of blood and death stinging his nose. Hot blood soaking his body and corpses growing cold all around him.
It was a scene he had once seen so often he’d grown sick of it.
Back then, he had lived by cutting through battlefields like this. Killing, then killing again, and moving only forward.
Only, there was one difference...
Thud!
Chung Myung kicked the cultist’s knee, scattering his thoughts.
With a bone-crushing crack, the enemy’s knee bent backward, lowering his stance. Just perfect for taking the head off.
There was no reason to hesitate.
Fwoosh!
He took the man’s life with a single stroke, then kicked the headless corpse in half and exhaled hard.
Right. Even back then...
Even then, it hadn’t been all that different from now.
Only...
Chung Myung bent his knees slightly. His eyes, a mad tangle of killing intent and frenzy, flashed terribly.
He slapped aside the claw-like force of another charging cultist. The following lightning-quick sword strike pierced the man’s upper arm and shoulder, completely opening his torso.
Having disabled the enemy, Chung Myung naturally moved to pass by him—and then he flinched.
Shit...!
Because he kept thinking of the past, his old habits had surfaced. Even now, when things were no longer the same.
Startled, Chung Myung clenched his teeth and twisted his body to strike again with his sword.
But then—
Fwoosh!
From behind his back, a pure white sword flew like an illusion and pierced the heart of the cultist whose torso had been opened.
Crunch.
“... ”
Chung Myung’s eyes widened.
For one instant, the white sword that had pierced the enemy’s heart overlapped with the plum blossom sword’s illusion from the past.
Sasuk!
At that fleetingly familiar voice echoing through his mind, Chung Myung turned around sharply without thinking.
Baek Cheon, with his sword driven into the cultist’s heart, was looking at him.
As if asking whether there was some problem.
“...”
It wasn’t a familiar face.
It wasn’t a face he had missed more than anything.
And yet...
Chung Myung tightened his grip on the sword in his hand.
Then he bit his lip and looked forward again without a word.
Don’t worry, you idiots.
Even without you, there are people here to back me up.
Chung Myung pressed lightly at the corner of his eye with his free hand, then bared white teeth and looked toward the distant figure ahead.
“That bastard’s the ringleader! Follow him like your life depends on it!”
“Got it!”
Having finally spotted the law enforcer, Chung Myung turned into a streak of light and surged forward.
Flowers always fall in the end.
But if they endure the bitter, brutal winter, the plum tree will bloom anew.
Mount Hua’s plum blossoms were in full bloom in the North Sea.