How Do You Want to Die? (4)
“Father.”
Wi So-haeng hurried to support Wi Lip-san, who was swaying as though he might collapse at any moment.
As far as he was concerned, he wanted nothing more than to lay the man down and let him rest, but this was a battlefield. For the sake of the Huaying Gate disciples still standing there on trembling legs and forcing themselves to endure, Wi Lip-san could not afford to fall now.
“...So-haeng.”
“Father. We’re here... The Taoist priest...”—
“Yes.”
Relief that could not be hidden seeped through Wi Lip-san’s voice as well.
The situation itself had not really changed.
The wolves’ fangs still gleamed as they hunted these people, and those who had not yet stuffed their bellies enough would bare their savage nature once more and try to tear into them again.
And yet Wi Lip-san was no longer worried.
That was only natural.
Anyone who knew the name of the man standing ahead with his back turned, anyone who knew what sort of person he was, would have felt the same as Wi Lip-san.
The martial artists of Xi’an, who had been fighting as though they were throwing away their very lives at the edge of a cliff, saw the back standing firm before them and bit down hard on their lips, their eyes reddening.
“...Chung Myung Taoist priest.”
“Taoist priest...”
“Mount Hua...”
Then someone murmured it aloud, and those words made it real all over again.
“...Mount Hua has come.”
The resonance of that single statement swept through everyone who had held out until now.
Only a few years ago, the name Mount Hua had not meant much at all in Xi’an.
But not anymore.
Beyond Xi’an, across all of Shaanxi, the meaning carried by the name Mount Hua had grown beyond anything that could be measured or replaced.
Even those who had been terrified of death, even those too exhausted to lift a sword and were gasping for breath, even those who had been dragging their feet back from the urge to flee with every ounce of will they had left—all of them, the moment they heard the name Mount Hua, began to burn with fighting spirit again.
All because of the arrival of just three people.
This is bad.
Watching the situation unfold, Gal Cheon-lip clicked his tongue inwardly.
The situation had changed completely. The Xi’an martial artists clinging on with all they had could be dismissed as nothing more than the desperate thrashing of mice trapped in a corner.
But those three were different. They had turned the atmosphere on its head.
Worse still, everyone who had just been rampaging wildly enough to be difficult for even him to restrain were now holding their breath.
If that momentum died any further, his entire plan might come crashing down.
With an unpleasant feeling settling in his chest, Gal Cheon-lip stared at the one standing in front.
A man in black robes embroidered with plum blossoms, both hands hanging loosely at his sides, watched them with eyes colder than frost. The moment Gal Cheon-lip met that chill, his mind naturally called up one name.
A name that had once been far too famous, though with the passing of time its brilliance had now faded a little.
“I see.”
Gal Cheon-lip looked straight at the man and spoke.
“So you’re that Mount Hua Sword Hero?”
Mount Hua Sword Hero.
At that name, it was not Mount Hua’s side that reacted, but Sapa.
“Mount Hua Sword Hero?”
“The one from the Yangtze River... the...”
The color drained from the faces of the Sapa men.
They could not quite finish the sentence, but what remained unsaid was obvious.
The one who had supposedly fought Jang Il-so on equal footing.
Everyone here had fled from Saperyeon. For people like that, there was no need to explain how heavy the name of Saperyeon’s alliance leader, Jang Il-so, weighed on them.
The alliance leader of Saperyeon, the undisputed number one of Sapa.
The master of the myth who had turned Gangnam into a land of blood and death, then finally unified Gangnam under his banner.
Once, people had tagged his name with the label of one of the Five Hegemons of the Jianghu, but three years had passed since the Yangtze River Massacre, and there was not a single person under heaven who still dared stick such a foolish label onto Jang Il-so.
So naturally, the name Mount Hua Sword Hero had come to shine as well. Of everyone who had left even the smallest scratch on Jang Il-so’s reputation in recent years, Mount Hua Sword Hero was the only one.
That man...
The one from the rumors?
Tension hung tight in the air. But the man simply stared back at Gal Cheon-lip, who had spoken first, saying nothing in reply.
“Looks like I was right.”
When Chung Myung did not answer, Gal Cheon-lip let out a low laugh.
“So the brat who got lucky and picked up some empty fame has grown rather arrogant. You idiot. Do you really think anyone believes you’re on equal footing with Jang Il-so? I never believed it to begin with, but seeing you in person makes it even clearer.”
At those words, the Sapa men once again fixed their wary eyes on Chung Myung.
“Why? Got nothing to say?”
This time, Chung Myung finally gave a snort and spoke.
“That’s rich.”
“What’s rich about it? You’re supposed to be on the same level as that fool Jang Il-so—”
Gal Cheon-lip sneered, but Chung Myung cut him off without the slightest hesitation.
“Some Sapa bastard’s standing there flapping his mouth in front of me.”
“...”
The smile vanished from Gal Cheon-lip’s face.
“You little...”
“You’re right, though.”
Still showing no intention of listening to Gal Cheon-lip properly, Chung Myung rolled his neck from side to side.
“If some Sapa punk wants to run his mouth in front of me, yeah, he’d have to be at least about that idiot Jang Il-so level. The crap that bastard says is still at least worth listening to. But you...”
A sneer crept onto Chung Myung’s lips.
“You’re not him. You little nobody.”
“...”
“So shut your mouth. I’ve got no hobby of chatting with dead men.”
Gal Cheon-lip’s expression twisted hideously.
“A little nobody...?”
When in his life had some brat ever spoken to him like this?
And worse, what made him even angrier was the fact that this damn brat was treating him as though he was less than Jang Il-so. For Gal Cheon-lip, that was no different from striking at a vital point.
With rage so intense it nearly made his hair stand on end, he clenched his fist and forced the anger down. To bare his fury in front of so many people would be the same as admitting that he had been dragged around by this brat.
Grinding his teeth, he spoke as calmly as he could manage.
“A brat with a sharp tongue. But you should know better than to get carried away. Even if you really are as skilled as the rumors say, three people won’t be enough for anything...”
“I told you to shut your stinking mouth.”
Again, the cold voice shut Gal Cheon-lip’s mouth. His face had already grown so rigid it could not possibly harden any further.
“You damn bastard, I’ve been trying to hold back...”
“Looks like you’re misunderstanding something.”
Chung Myung bared his teeth.
“I’m the one holding back from ripping you all apart and killing you right now. So quit flapping your gums. My patience has limits too.”
“That bastard—!”
Danghae, the youngest of the Gangseo-chilsal, had bloodshot eyes.
But Gal Cheon-lip felt less anger than confusion and something eerie in Chung Myung’s words.
“Holding back?”
“...”
“Why? What are you holding back from?”
“Simple.”
Chung Myung spoke with open disdain.
“I’m not the one who’s going to kill you.”
“...What did you say?”
“And while I’m at it, let me correct one more thing you’re mistaken about.”
Chung Myung snorted.
“Who said there were only three?”
And at that instant—
“There clearly aren’t only three.”
At the voice that rang out sharply behind him, Gal Cheon-lip whirled around in alarm.
An imposing man in black robes was walking slowly through the great gate.
The moment Gal Cheon-lip saw him, strength crept into his body before he could help it.
Neither too much nor too little in his stride. Neither fast nor slow in his breathing. Everything about him told the same story: this was a master who had reached the level where he could fully control his own body.
His gaze, carrying a trace of anger, settled briefly on Gal Cheon-lip’s face.
“Three isn’t really too few, though.”
As soon as the man finished speaking, a group of martial artists appeared behind him.
Huh? Since when? I didn’t sense them.
But that was not all.
One by one, figures in black robes climbed up onto the walls surrounding the manor, a place built far larger than necessary just to unload and move goods.
Seeing that, the Sapa men’s eyes shook as though an earthquake had struck them.
Were they surrounded?
Or was it because an unexpected enemy had appeared?
No. The reason they were rattled was that the momentum radiating from the people now surrounding them was far too sharp.
Where in the world did all these monsters come from...?
This was not the heavy, gentle aura typical of righteous sects. It was a blade-like presence, as though touching it would cut skin open—no, as though merely standing before it would slice straight into the heart, and that pressure bore down on them relentlessly.
Most striking of all was the woman standing at the center of the people atop the wall.
Beauty beyond reason.
And a cold, merciless killing intent that swallowed even that beauty whole.
Anyone who met that expressionless gaze found themselves taking a step back without realizing it.
Jerkins...
The killing intent unleashed by more than a hundred sword ghosts hung thick in the air.
The stronger the person, the greater the pressure they felt. Only those who had faced such people before could understand just how terrifying they truly were.
This is...
Cold sweat trickled down Danghae’s forehead.
More than a hundred of those bastards...?
Damn it. What the hell is going on?
Just looking at the plum blossom emblem embroidered over their chests made it clear.
Mount Hua.
The famed sword sect of Shaanxi that had once aspired to become the strongest sword sect under heaven.
But the current Mount Hua could not truly be called a famed sect. Everyone knew that the reputation Mount Hua had earned had been possible only because it rested on the back of Mount Hua Sword Hero’s exploits, not on the sect’s own strength.
Yet the Mount Hua he encountered in person shattered those thoughts of Danghae’s without mercy.
If he could, he wanted to find every bastard who had ever said Mount Hua itself was nothing special and slash their mouths to ribbons.
But regret was always late, no matter how quickly it came, and wasn’t it always after everything was already over that one realized the information had been wrong?
The vast manor of the Eunha Merchant Guild, which had seemed so wide before, suddenly felt unbearably narrow.
And then, at that moment, the people who had entered through the gate and occupied the rear split apart left and right. Through the gap, three old men stepped forward with heavy, deliberate strides.
“Sect Leader!”
“Sect Leader!”
The Huaying Gate disciples burst out with cries that sounded almost like screams.
Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, Hyun Jong, walked in with a face frozen hard, taking in the situation within the yard with his own eyes.
At the sight of the pitiful corpses already cooling on the ground and the survivors still breathing but soaked in blood, a rare fury surged deep into Hyun Jong’s eyes.
“How dare they...”
Clenching his fist and grinding his teeth, he shouted,
“Un Geom! Baek Cheon!”
“Yes, Sect Leader!”
The two called at once fell prostrate on the spot.
The momentum rolling off Hyun Jong was terrifying. It was not the thick killing intent of his disciples, but a rage as heavy as a mountain.
Even without the reputation of being Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, no one could possibly look at Hyun Jong now and treat him lightly.
“To think they would dare invade Shaanxi...”
The moment Hyun Jong’s deep voice burst out, pained groans leaked from the mouths of the Sapa men.
“And attack Mount Hua’s friends!”
Hearing those words, the Huaying Gate disciples and the disciples of the Xi’an sects clenched their fists.
“Here, on Mount Hua’s land...”
Hyun Jong drew a short breath and then gave a decisive order in a weighted voice.
“Make those who dared commit such lawless acts pay the price! Show them clearly what Mount Hua’s fury is!”
“We obey your command!”
Ching! Ching!
The moment his words ended, Mount Hua’s disciples all drew their swords in unison.
The sight of a hundred sword-users, each seeming to possess no emotion at all, drawing steel together sent both shivers and fear through the air.
For those who had been waiting for them, it was an indescribable thrill and swell of relief.
For those who had to face them, it was a suffocating pressure and pure dread.
“In the name of Mount Hua!”
Baek Cheon’s voice boomed out with full force.
“Purge the evil bastards!”
The disciples of Mount Hua, swords extended downward, surged at once toward Sapa. It was as though a black tide were rippling through the center of Xi’an itself.
That movement declared to the world that Mount Hua had finally returned.