Where Is Mount Hua? (4)
“Please.”
Kneeling and bowing one’s head was, by rights, a posture no martial artist should ever take. It was humiliating, debasing.
And yet no one here thought Namgung Dowi looked humiliated. How could they? How could anyone possibly think that?
“Young Patriarch…”
Hyun Jong was the first to move.
“Young Patriarch, this is… this is truly…”
He seemed about to ask, What happened? but he hesitated, then shook his head instead.
Did he really need to ask?
Was he pretending not to know what kind of suffering the Namgung Clan was enduring on the Yangtze River?
Hyun Jong abandoned the question and stepped toward Namgung Dowi, taking hold of his shoulders. The moment his trembling hands touched him, Namgung Dowi’s body jerked as well.
“Sect Leader…”
Namgung Dowi slowly lifted his head to look at Hyun Jong.
When Hyun Jong met those bloodshot eyes, he bit his lip before he realized it.
“On Maehwado….”
“…”
“The Namgung clan retainers are still trapped there, numbering in the hundreds.”
“Young Patriarch…”
“Those who were wounded are dying a little more each day, and those who survived are only waiting for the day they’ll die… yes, they’re only waiting.”
Hyun Jong’s shoulders began to shake.
“Please… help us, Sect Leader. Please help them.”
When Namgung Dowi tried to lower his head again, Hyun Jong quickly gripped his shoulders tighter.
“Don’t do this, Young Patriarch.”
“I beg you.”
Dang Gun-ak, watching from the side, turned his gaze to Jao-gae. Seeing the rage in those eyes, Jao-gae let out a long sigh and spoke.
“The Beggars’ Union and Qingcheng… and even Shaolin did not aid Namgung.”
“Why not?”
“...The Ten Thousand Man Alliance came to their rescue. In that situation, we couldn’t exactly fight the water bandits on the river…”
“That’s not what I’m asking, Elder.”
Dang Gun-ak’s voice was so cold it sounded like the voice of a vengeful ghost dragging itself up from hell. His fury was that great.
“I know the circumstances. I’m asking why you have all continued to do nothing but watch.”
“…”
Jao-gae couldn’t answer at once.
There were too many reasons, and not a single one of them was real enough to matter.
“Th-”
When Dang Gun-ak bared his teeth and glared, Jao-gae couldn’t meet his eyes and turned his head away.
How could he not know how hard the Tang Family had worked to save those the Nine Great Sects had failed to protect?
Among the Nine Great Sects, he might have once mocked them from a position of equality. But here, he was nothing more than a sinner. No one who bore the name of the Nine Great Sects had any right to lift their head before Mount Hua or the Tang Family. No, they should not have that right.
“...What of Namgung Hwang?”
“...”
“What happened to the Namgung Clan Lord?”
Dang Gun-ak asked because the answer was obvious. The Namgung Hwang he knew was not the kind of man to force his son to break out alone and with his life on the line.
No, it was more accurate to say he was not the kind of man who would send his son alone into a death trap.
“He must have…”
Jao-gae couldn’t finish and lowered his head.
Crack.
Dang Gun-ak ground his teeth, the sound sharp and eerie. Thick veins bulged on the fist clenched beneath his wide sleeve.
“Please.”
At that moment, Namgung Dowi lifted his head and looked at everyone there. Tears streamed from his eyes, mixing with dried blood as they ran down his face.
“Please… save them. I beg you, save them.”
“…”
“Please….”
Hyun Jong tightened his grip on Namgung Dowi’s shoulders. But the answer he had to give would not leave his mouth.
If it were only his own life on the line, he would already have been running toward Maehwado. But he was not the only one who had to risk his life now, was he?
He could not ask these people to gamble their lives for this.
“...I’m sorry.”
Hyun Jong’s shoulders trembled violently.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Young Patriarch. I’m sorry….”
This was not an apology to Namgung Dowi.
Perhaps it was an apology to himself.
In those long, agonizing days when he had borne the crushing weight of Mount Hua and simply endured, and endured, and endured, had Hyun Jong not resented it?
Had he not resented that no one had reached out a hand to help him?
Had he not screamed and cried out again and again that no one had heard his anguish?
And yet even now, Hyun Jong could not bring himself to take Namgung Dowi’s hands. The anguish of it tightened his jaw until it hurt.
I…
Then—
Swish.
From behind him came the sound of a sword being drawn.
Hyun Jong turned around with trembling eyes.
Baek Cheon looked down at the sword he had drawn, then calmly slid it back into its scabbard. He secured it tightly at his waist and stepped forward.
Without a word, he looked at Hyun Jong, his eyes burning with resolve.
“Baek Cheon…”
Clack!
Yu I-seol’s inspection of her sword was far quicker than Baek Cheon’s. She, too, fastened it securely at her waist and took her place beside him.
And it wasn’t only the two of them.
Yoon Jong walked forward with firm eyes and stood behind Baek Cheon. Jo Geol, looking as if he might sprint off at any second, took up position behind Yoon Jong with a fierce expression. Dang So-so silently stood behind Yu I-seol, and the remaining Mount Hua disciples, including Baek Sang, all drew and checked their swords in unison before wordlessly forming ranks.
“You…”
Hyun Jong seemed briefly at a loss for words, his mouth closing.
Not one of them said a thing to urge him on. As if they had not forgotten that it was Hyun Jong who must decide all this.
But their actions spoke for them.
The moment his command was given, not one of them would hesitate to charge down to the Yangtze River.
Step. Step.
Un Geom walked forward slowly and took his place behind the children. Un Am, too, unlike usual, stood at his side with a hardened face.
Hyun Jong looked at them, then bit his lip hard. A storm raged within his chest.
He wanted to help.
He wanted to run to the Yangtze River this instant. But….
I am the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.
The moment Hyun Jong closed his eyes tightly,
shhhhk—
Cheong Myeong, who had remained silent the entire time, drew his sword halfway and cast him a sidelong glance.
“Cheong Myeong…”
Startled, Hyun Jong looked at him. But Cheong Myeong did not return his gaze. He looked instead at Namgung Dowi, then slowly opened his mouth.
“Answer me.”
“…”
Namgung Dowi raised his shaking head and looked up at him.
“Why should we help you?”
“…”
“That place is a death trap. If we help, we’ll have to risk our own lives too. So why should we risk them?”
“…”
“Answer me.”
Namgung Dowi’s eyes wavered violently.
There was so much he wanted to say. So much he could say. But none of it would truly convince them.
“...I…”
In the face of desperation, logic collapsed, and everything he had was rendered useless. What remained was only Namgung Dowi, one human being standing there alone.
“I can’t… watch.”
“…”
Cheong Myeong’s mouth hardened further.
Namgung Dowi’s shoulders trembled as he sobbed.
“I can’t watch them… my brothers, my family… my comrades… dying like that.”
Cheong Myeong’s gaze settled on Namgung Dowi’s hunched back.
“Please… please.”
Cheong Myeong knew what feelings were shaking in that pathetic, trembling back. That trembling did not come from pain, nor from sorrow.
It was fear.
Namgung Dowi was trembling with fear.
Fear that Cheong Myeong would refuse him. Fear that he would be forced to face the fact that he had failed to protect those he must protect.
Fear that he would watch everyone die and, in the worst possible case, be the only one left alive.
He was shaking before that immense terror.
“…”
After glaring silently at Namgung Dowi, Cheong Myeong finally shifted his gaze to Hyun Jong.
“Sect Leader.”
“…”
“What will you do?”
There was no emotion in his voice. No urging, no restraint. He was simply asking.
As if the choice belonged entirely to Hyun Jong.
Hyun Jong bit his lip until it went pale.
“I…”
What he had intended to say was, We will not help.
Let them call him ignorant of righteousness if they liked. Let them sneer that he was no different from Shaolin in the end. But he could not bring himself to order his beloved disciples to risk their lives for the sake of others.
Hyun Jong might be able to do that, perhaps, but the Sect Leader of Mount Hua who had survived those hellish days could not.
And yet the words would not come. No matter how hard he tried, only a faint groan escaped him, as though his throat had been clenched shut.
Then Cheong Myeong, who had been watching him in silence, spoke.
“There was once a man I thought was great.”
“…”
“He was a splendid Sect Leader. Everyone trusted him and followed him, and no one hesitated to stake their life on his sake. He was, quite literally, the perfect sort of man to lead a sect.”
Hyun Jong shut his eyes tightly. It sounded as if those words were rebuking his weakness.
“But.”
Cheong Myeong looked straight at Hyun Jong and said,
“I don’t think you are one bit inferior to him, Sect Leader.”
“Cheong Myeong…”
“You’re only lacking one thing.”
Cheong Myeong fell silent for a moment.
A brief hush passed over them, and Hyun Jong, unable to bear the weight of it, let out a sigh and asked first.
“What is it?”
His voice was almost desperate.
“What am I lacking?”
Cheong Myeong answered with a blank face.
“Knowledge.”
Cheong Myeong’s gaze did not waver in the slightest.
“The sword in the Sect Leader’s hand….”
He stopped, and the corner of his mouth twisted, baring white teeth.
Shing.
His sword slid fully free of its scabbard.
“...Just how sharp it is.”
The instant those words fell, every Mount Hua disciple drew their sword at once.
In the darkest hour before dawn, the lowered blades shone pale against the dark.
Dang Gun-ak, watching in silence, clenched his fist. The feeling racing across his body could only be called a shiver, a thrill.
Cheong Myeong’s calm voice flowed out.
“I am the Sect Leader’s sword.”
Hyun Jong’s body trembled faintly.
“Command me.”
Cheong Myeong bared his teeth and spoke with sharp, blue-edged force.
“A sword carries out will. If the Sect Leader commands it, I will make that will real. I will, and so will they!”
Hyun Jong’s eyes swept over the Mount Hua disciples standing in formation.
Every single one of them was staring only at him, with not even the slightest hesitation in their eyes.
What shone there was trust, unwavering and absolute. Faith that their Sect Leader would never make the wrong choice.
“We will simply make it happen.”
Hyun Jong closed his eyes.
It looked as though he were wrestling with himself, steadying his heart, or perhaps looking once more upon the path he must walk.
After a long silence, when he finally opened his eyes again, there was not a trace of hesitation left within them.
“Hear me, disciples of Mount Hua.”
“Yes, Sect Leader!”
All the disciples of Mount Hua dropped to one knee and paid their respects.
“We will go to the Yangtze River.”
Everyone’s eyes shone clearly even in the darkness.
“Rescue Namgung, trapped on Maehwado, and show those evil bastards that righteousness still exists in this world!”
“Yes!”
The answer rang out as if from a single mouth.
The Mount Hua disciples rose as one.
Namgung Dowi, watching the sight, broke into violent sobs. The tension that had held his body together gave way, and he collapsed. But before he could even hit the ground, someone seized him and hauled him back up by force.
“Get up.”
“T-Daoist.”
Cheong Myeong ground his teeth and yanked Namgung Dowi into place.
“If there’s something that has to be done, do it yourself. We’re not the ones saving them.”
His voice sounded like a beast growling in fury.
“We’re fighting together.”
“…”
“There’s no such thing as someone else doing it for you. You’re the one who leads. You’re the one who saves Namgung.”
Namgung Dowi stared at Cheong Myeong with trembling eyes, and little by little, the shaking in them began to subside. In its place came a fierce, blue-hot resolve.
“Yes! I will!”
When Cheong Myeong looked back, all the Mount Hua disciples were staring at him with faces full of certainty, as if they were waiting only for his word to fall.
Cheong Myeong answered their will with a slight nod.
“Let’s go!”
At last, the eastern sky began to brighten in a faint wash of red.
And then Mount Hua and the Sichuan Tang Family, under the name of the Heavenly Friends Alliance, began their march toward the Yangtze River.
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