Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1252: And It Is To Live! (2)

Southern Island. Those who now sought to cast aside those two words, and those who clung to them to meet their deaths. Everyone who had once carried the name Southern Island held their breath, their gazes fixed upon Geum Yang-Baek and Gwak Hwan-So. Yet, the two offered no indication, maintaining their silence as if their part in the decision was concluded. Their quietude served as a stark realization for all bearing the Southern Island name: the choice now rested solely with each individual. Whether to stand and fall together, or to remain behind and witness their fate, the decision was theirs alone. Thus, the two made no pleas, nor loudly proclaimed the righteous path. Each person was left to determine the appearance of their final moments. “Huff.” In that profound silence, the crisp sound of a sword being unsheathed sliced through the air— ssshhk. Step. Step. Lee Ja-Yang drew his blade and advanced, positioning himself beside Gwak Hwan-So. He spoke no words, merely standing at Gwak Hwan-So’s flank. His posture conveyed his intention: if guarding Geum Yang-Baek’s back was Gwak Hwan-So’s charge, then guarding his side was Ja-Yang’s responsibility. Witnessing this act, others who were spurred by his courage bit their lips. Step. Step. A few more swordsmen followed suit, stepping forward to join them. One, then another. A distance spanning mere paces felt like an infinitely long road, yet some chose to traverse it with their own volition. Perhaps the full implication of this chosen path remained somewhat obscure to them. They might face regret in their final moments, a consequence of those few steps. Nevertheless, they walked that path. Few could articulate the precise reason in words; they simply held a belief that it was the necessary course. Step. Step. Beyond the initial few, dozens more came to stand alongside those who shared their name. They raised the swords they had carried throughout their lives, reinforcing their resolve. Another. And another. Like successive waves meeting the shore, more individuals joined, contributing their determination to that of Geum Yang-Baek and Gwak Hwan-So. However, not everyone was moved to passion by the unfolding scene. “... Sahyung.” At Go Hong’s hesitant utterance, Yu Gong pressed his lip lightly. ‘Why…’ Why now, at this eleventh hour, were they undertaking such a drastic action? The outcome had already been determined. By proceeding with the expulsion ceremony and returning to the family estate, his ties to the Southern Island Sect could have been irrevocably severed. So why embark on such an inexplicable endeavor in this place? The stark contrast between those who stepped forward and those who remained stationary was extreme. Sect Leader Geum Yang-Baek had expressed a desire to spare those departing the sect the burden of an expulsion ceremony. Yet, for Yu Gong, this current situation presented a humiliation far exceeding any expulsion. An expulsion ceremony, at least, was an act where one suppressed shame and moved forward with courage, offering the possibility that—rather than being swept away and perishing—stepping forward amidst scorn to accept expulsion might be viewed as a more valiant deed. But such was not the case in this scenario. In this cruel predicament orchestrated by Geum Yang-Baek, those who chose to turn their backs on Southern Island were compelled to stand like inert statues, merely observing the resolute backs of those who had pledged to sacrifice their lives for the Southern Island name. What amplified Yu Gong’s shame and pain were precisely these backs. Originally, those severing ties with Southern Island ought to have faced scornful gazes, departing under condemnation as cowards, while others asserted their perceived superiority. Being subjected to those hostile glances would have, in a peculiar way, solidified Yu Gong’s own stance. But at this moment, the individuals who had advanced did not look back. No one turned their gaze toward those left behind; no one cast accusatory looks at those who had forsaken the Southern Island Sect. For those who had already committed and stepped forward, the ones remaining were simply outside their consideration. This very fact rendered Yu Gong unable to bear it. “Sahyung… what should we do?” Go Hong, sensing the palpable atmosphere, inquired of Yu Gong with palpable unease, his face etched with anxiety. Yu Gong, however, responded with a cold rebuke. “Why are you asking me that?” “…What?” “Did you not hear the Sect Leader? Each individual must make their own choice.” “B-but, Sahyung…” Yu Gong offered no further reply, his lips pressed tight as he fixed his glare solely upon Geum Yang-Baek. ‘How much more misery must you inflict before you are satisfied, Sect Leader?’ Through this agonizing moment, Yu Gong painfully grasped that sometimes, benevolent intentions can inflict greater hurt than outright malice. Even now, more individuals joined the group that had stepped forward. However, the decisions of martial artists are not so simplistic. When no one else moved for a considerable period, the elders who had maintained their silence eventually took their places at the end of the line. Slightly over half the sect’s members had moved forward. This also implied that nearly half had elected to depart the sect without remaining until the end. While the numbers were nearly balanced, the prevailing atmosphere was worlds apart.

Yet, for those left behind, only the retreating figures of companions who chose a different destiny were visible. Consequently, they found themselves unable to gaze straight ahead, their heads bowed in resignation.

It was then that Geum Yang-Baek addressed those who stayed for his sake.

“Do not hang your heads low.”

What Geum Yang-Baek uttered carried no hint of reproach or reprimand.

“If risking one’s life equates to courage, then tempering one’s bloodlust and choosing survival is also a display of courage. No one can fault such a decision.”

Geum Yang-Baek observed those who remained for a quiet moment before closing his eyes.

“However… from this point forward, you are no longer considered disciples of the Southern Island Sect. While I will not forcibly seal your dantian or reclaim your martial knowledge, you are strictly forbidden from employing Southern Island Sect’s techniques, and your names shall be expunged from the registry.”

Understanding dawned upon everyone present.

They realized this was the only method to safeguard those who stayed. Should they carelessly utilize the sect’s techniques, the Four Sects Alliance would undoubtedly pursue and eliminate them. If such an event transpired, even with the distraction of those heading south, the Southern Island Sect could not escape dire consequences.

Yet, the human heart is not so easily swayed. Even armed with the knowledge that these words were intended for their protection, an inexplicable ache resonated within their chests.

“Even if you are no longer disciples of the Southern Island sect, the undeniable truth remains that you are Southern Island people residing on this island. We shall journey to the Southern land to uphold our name. As for those who remain, your duty is to safeguard the Southern Island way of life here.”

The heads of those who remained bowed even lower.

No matter how artfully it was presented, they were, in the end, deserters who had forsaken the sect’s legacy. This truth was clearer to them than to anyone else.

Perhaps it would have been simpler to face anger and condemnation. But Geum Yang-Baek chose a different approach, refraining from such actions. He calmly expressed his wish for their continued survival.

This very act instilled a deeper sense of shame in those left behind.

“Descend the mountain.”

Those caught in the emotional tempest turned, startled, to look at Geum Yang-Baek.

“A prolonged farewell serves no purpose for any of us. Descend the mountain without delay. That shall mark the severance of your ties with us.”

“S-sect leader.”

“Go.”

With these final words, Geum Yang-Baek gently shut his eyes.

Witnessing his expression, those present bit their lips and, one by one, began to bow. Having offered their last respects to their master, they turned and slowly made their way toward the mountain gate.

The disciples were departing.

Tears streamed from some, while others bowed their heads as if burdened by guilt. A few spat curses, and others, unable to contain their fury, struck their chests.

Some turned their backs and refused to look back.

Once they shared the same aspirations and unhesitatingly considered each other family, but now their paths had irrevocably diverged. They would never reunite.

And until the very end, Yu-gong simply bit his lip, observing those who carried the name Southern Island.

His heart yearned to leave, yet his feet remained rooted to the spot.

After watching them for an extended period, Yu Gong bit his lip with such force that it drew blood, and finally spoke.

“Do not delude yourselves into believing that remaining here makes you superior beings.”

Yu Gong himself was uncertain of the exact reason behind his words.

In reality, there was no justification to blame them or to act unreasonably. By his own rationale, he had made the pragmatic choice, while they had merely opted for a path of folly. Should he not simply mock them and depart?

“We are not departing because we are cowards. Maintain whatever sense of superiority you wish to feel.”

Lee Ja-Yang’s brow furrowed.

“You…!”

However, just as he was about to retort, Gwak Hwan-So gently placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him.

“...Sahyung.”

“Enough.”

Gwak Hwan-So shook his head and turned his gaze to Yu Gong.

“Yu Gong.”

“...”

“I have a single favor to ask.”

“What...”

“When we depart, would you please inspect each of the remaining Southern Island pavilions at least once?”

Yu Gong grimaced, fixing Gwak Hwan-So with a glare.

“I am no longer a disciple of the Southern Island Sect.”

“I am aware.”

Gwak Hwan-So offered a faint smile.

“But given the bond we once shared, is it too much to ask for at least that?”

Yu Gong stared at Gwak Hwan-So without uttering a word, then abruptly turned and strode towards the mountain gate, not once looking back.

Lee Ja-Yang watched him depart, his teeth grinding in sheer fury.

“That blasted man...”

“Stop it.”

Lee Ja-Yang’s glare followed Yu Gong as he exited the gate, but he then turned away. They no longer needed to concern themselves with him.

“Sect leader.”

Those who intended to leave had now done so. Representing those who had pledged to preserve the Southern Island name, Gwak Hwan-so voiced the question.

“What is our next course of action?”

“Hmm.”

Geum Yang-Baek nodded and shifted his gaze to the side. Among those who met his eyes, Im So-Byeong stepped forward.

“Alright! From now on, we must move with haste. Firstly, proceed to the nearest shore and secure vessels...“

“Should we perhaps ready some boats?”

“No.”

“Pardon me?”

Im So-Byeong flashed a cunning, malicious grin.

“Instead of fetching them, let’s obliterate every single boat along this shore.”

“...What are you saying?”

“Every last one! Leave not a single vessel behind! Be they fishing boats or any other kind — smash them all!”

“...W-what?”

“Get moving!”

“…”

An intuition arose within them that the unfolding events would deviate significantly from their initial expectations.