Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1262: I Will Not Send You Alive. (2)

A solemn golden Buddha light enveloped the area.

“Aaaaaaaaah!”

“Aaaah!”

While the light appeared exceedingly auspicious, the power within it was far from benevolent. Those engulfed by it felt that harsh reality deep within their bones, collapsing with agonizing shrieks.

Whoosh!

“Kraaah!”

Jo Gul, having repelled the incoming attackers with a single swift movement, turned toward Hae Yeon with a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Hae Yeon, his face etched with a more profound seriousness than usual, gritted his teeth and unleashed a rapid series of palm strikes.

At that precise moment, Yoon Jong barked a sharp command.

“Don’t get distracted, you idiot!”

“Sahyung, isn’t Monk Hae Yeon acting unusually aggressive today?”

But Jo Gul paid it no mind, posing his question. Yoon Jong, who had just hurled a sword, merely shifted his gaze, casting a sidelong glance at Hae Yeon.

“He must be enraged.”

“Huh?”

“Up until this point, regardless of what we've called the Evil Sects, we hadn't truly witnessed the Four Sects Alliance directly tormenting commoners with our own eyes, had we?”

“...What do you mean...”

Jo Gul, on the verge of retorting, grasped the full implication a moment too late and nodded in understanding.

When the Four Sects Alliance had seized control of the Southern lands, similar chaotic proliferation of evil sects had occurred in the Northern territories. However, upon reflection, the evil sects that emerged in the North were not the Four Sects Alliance themselves but rather those driven out and in flight from the Alliance.

Therefore, when viewed with cold objectivity, they had never genuinely witnessed the Alliance itself persecuting innocent civilians.

“But on the journey here, you saw people suffering with your own eyes—how furious do you think Monk Hae Yeon must feel?”

“Ah...”

“Front! You bastard! Front!”

“Wohu!”

Jo Gul contorted his body with remarkable speed to evade an incoming blade, unleashing a sword Qi that flashed like lightning.

Whoosh!

“Aaaagh!”

The sword Qi he propelled pierced ruthlessly through a Tiger Ghost Troop member’s shoulder.

‘The Ten Thousand People Clan’s elite unit.’

This was not Jo Gul’s initial encounter with them. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say his true combat experience began by fighting against the enemy forces of the Ten Thousand People Clan.

Consequently, he could keenly perceive it.

They were undeniably powerful.

The swiftness of their techniques, the sheer momentum of their movements; none of it fell short of being classified as ‘peak.’ Each member of the Tiger Ghost Troops possessed skills that would be recognized and respected anywhere in the known realm.

And yet...

‘This isn’t difficult!’

Whoosh!

The Plum Blossom Sword darted forward an astonishing twelve times in rapid succession, shredding the attacker’s wrist and chest as if they were mere rags. The Tiger Ghost Troop member’s face contorted in agony. Jo Gul drove a final strike into the man’s chest and bit down slightly on his lower lip.

‘I’ve become stronger.’

No, he wasn't the sole individual who had experienced such growth.

“You—damn woman!”

“Block her! Don’t let that woman run wild!”

As their gazes shifted toward the source of the commotion, they witnessed Yu Yiseol, as was her custom, stamping down on a Tiger Ghost Troop member’s chest before leaping into the air.

It was an awe-inspiring spectacle every single time they beheld it. Launching oneself into the sky meant exposing oneself to the enemy’s attacks with absolutely no defensive cover. How, by what means, did Sago manage to fight with such ferocity without sustaining injuries?

It was a feat only achievable if one could maneuver their body with the exquisite delicacy of a single sheet of paper.

“Don’t leap, Sago!”

While Yu Yiseol commanded everyone's attention, Tang Soso swiftly exploited the openings created by the enemy and surged forward.

After all, Tang Soso hailed from the esteemed Tang Family. For centuries, the Tang Family had meticulously studied the art of projecting hidden blades into the fleetingly exposed gaps in an opponent's defense. Someone raised within such a clan would undoubtedly recognize and seize such an obvious vulnerability.

She certainly would.

“Haaah!”

The sword Qi dispersed by Tang Soso sliced through the Tiger Ghost Troop members with a sharpness akin to the lethal accuracy of Tang Family hidden blades.

“Aagh!”

“Damn it!”

Groans of pain echoed from various locations. While perhaps not fatal wounds, who among them could maintain composure as blades pierced their bodies?

Seizing the precise moment when their senses were scattered, Yu Yiseol descended like a predatory hawk.

Slash, slash!

A gruesome symphony of blades cutting through flesh and severing tendons rang out in quick succession.

Blood sprayed in various directions accompanied by screams, yet Yu Yiseol’s expression remained unyielding. Her blade techniques were as stark and precise as a cold northern wind—clean and economical.

‘So strong.’

Jo Gul tightened his grip on his sword.

Undoubtedly, Yu Yiseol had always possessed formidable strength. Back on Mount Hua, she was the sole swordsman whose skill level rivaled Baek Cheon’s, so her current prowess was to be expected.

But what Jo Gul observed now transcended merely Yu Yiseol's swordsmanship—it encompassed her sheer audacity, the fearless manner in which she plunged into combat against numerous opponents without a shred of hesitation.

Yu Yiseol consistently committed herself to the most perilous positions without any sign of trepidation. She held an unwavering conviction that someone positioned behind her would provide protection, and that very boldness was now, in an instant, unsettling the formidable Tiger Ghost Troops of the Ten Thousand People Clan.

It was causing them to falter.

“...It wasn’t for nothing, then.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing!”

Jo Gul clenched his teeth and thrust his sword forward with the determined resolve to prove he wouldn't be outmatched by Yu Yiseol.

‘She moves like a phantom, truly.’

A realization dawned upon him, finally clarifying the peculiar unease that had been a constant in his chest since their intense confrontation in Hangzhou.

“Taat!”

Yoon Jong charged forth, scattering plum blossoms in his wake. The enemy's plan to engulf them from all sides faltered, their momentum disrupted.

Seizing the opening, Jo Gul’s eyes narrowed as he thrust his sword. His blade sliced through an opponent with the lethal swiftness of a viper striking its prey.

‘This is it!’

The most significant deficit for the Mount Hua Sect was the sheer number of its disciples.

Consequently, their training had always involved coordinated assaults against the overwhelmingly powerful Chung Myung or serving as sparring partners for one another.

Up to this point, that had sufficed. The adversaries Mount Hua had encountered were either considerably stronger or posed such a threat that unified attacks were indispensable.

However, in Hangzhou, Jo Gul had grasped a crucial truth.

The challenges ahead were not merely individual powerhouses or single life-or-death duels. Instead, they faced factions possessing an overwhelming numerical advantage.

Yet, the seamless coordination displayed by Yu Yiseol and Tang Soso made it evident: that exceptionally perceptive Chung Myung, as usual, had been the first to recognize this shift and had already devised a countermeasure.

‘Yangtze!’

The endless sparring sessions practiced along the Yangtze River—those moments when they fought not as individuals but as entire clans.

What had sometimes felt like a wasteful endeavor had, in fact, proven to be anything but. Without that accumulated experience, they would never have been able to confront the formidable Tiger Ghost Troops with such confidence.

What they had perceived as mere efforts to bolster the strength of other sects had, in reality, also been a catalyst for nurturing Mount Hua’s own capabilities.

“Taaaab!”

Namgung Do-Wei had not been idle either.

Kwaaaang!

A streak of white sword qi erupted, instantly transforming the rushing attackers into a bloody spectacle.

Witnessing the sheer power of that sword aura, a lament escaped Jo Gul’s lips.

“...If only I had been born into the Namgung Family.”

“What nonsense are you spouting!”

“...Or at least the Shaolin Sect.”

“Can’t you focus for once!”

At Yoon Jong’s sharp rebuke, Jo Gul channeled his frustration and resentment into a barrage of a dozen sword strikes, unleashed in rapid succession.

It felt deeply unfair that he had to struggle intensely to bring down a single opponent, while others could dispatch two or three with a single sweep.

‘That’s why they are Shaolin, and that’s why they are Namgung!’

The foremost of the Nine Great Sects and the leaders of the Five Great Families.

As if to validate their prestigious reputations, those destined to lead the future of each faction plainly demonstrated their formidable prowess...

“Aaaaaaah!”

Screeeech! Waaaaaah!

“Aaaah! How can there be so many of you!?”

For a fleeting moment, Jo Gul’s eyes were clouded with sympathetic envy. Tang Pae was desperately whirling his arms like a windmill, attempting to shield Namgung Do-Wei while simultaneously scattering hidden blades.

“...The future of the Tang Family doesn’t seem particularly bright.”

“Focus, you idiot!”

Just as Yoon Jong was about to charge forward in exasperation.

Whoooooosh!

With a sharp cracking sound, a potent aura emanated from behind them.

Both disciples turned their heads simultaneously. They beheld plum blossoms bursting into a riotously crimson bloom.

Even fellow practitioners of the sword were momentarily captivated by the resplendent sword qi. At the epicenter of this aura, Mount Hua’s Acting Sect Leader, Baek Cheon, was advancing at full force, with disciples from Southern Island clinging tenaciously behind him.

They followed in close pursuit.

In that instant, an identical spark ignited in the eyes of Jo Gul and Yoon Jong.

“Sahyung!”

“Yes!”

Shattering the enemy’s front and rear formations, the pair charged forward as one.

“You scoundrels!”

As if by unspoken agreement, they split left and right as they reached the enemy’s line, unleashing sprays of red, plum-blossom-patterned sword auras.

“Block her!”

“You damn—!”

The impenetrable formation of the Tiger Ghost Troops wavered, momentarily splitting to the left and right. It was at that precise juncture.

“I will pierce through!”

Baek Cheon, accompanied by the Southern Island disciples, surged through that narrow breach in an instant, his sword whistling.

Paaaaang!

Having widened the gap previously created by Jo Gul and Yoon Jong with a single, clean strike, Baek Cheon pressed onward, undeterred by a blade hurtling towards him.

“And where do you think—!”

“Cease your foolishness, you brats!”

Desperately pursuing, Gwak Hwan-So and Lee Ja-Yang intercepted the blades aimed at Baek Cheon.

And then!

WOOOOOSH!

From the tip of Baek Cheon’s blade, thrust forward with his trust in Gwak Hwan-So and Lee Ja-Yang, crimson petals burst forth. Upon the stark white expanse, reminiscent of Mount Hua’s snow-laden peaks, scarlet plum blossoms unfurled.

Shararararak!

The plum tree bloomed momentarily, like a fleeting illusion, before vanishing. Yet, the petals did not dissipate; they caught the South Sea wind, swirling in every direction.

To some eyes, they appeared breathtakingly beautiful.

To others, intensely vibrant.

And to yet others, supremely perilous!

“Aaaaaaah!”

“What is this!”

“Aagh!”

Baek Cheon’s technique, ‘Falling Plum Petals,’ detonated amidst the enemy formation.

The technique was so perilous that even the seasoned members of the Tiger Ghost Troop, accustomed to the brutality of the battlefield, were forced to leap back and abandon their positions.

With an opening created, Baek Cheon’s voice boomed for all to hear.

“Seize the ships! Flee!”

“Yes!”

Aided by Baek Cheon, the disciples of the Southern Island formed a unified force, resembling a dragon ascending a raging current, as they surged through the crimson barrier erected by the Tiger Ghost Troops.

Whoosh!

Baek Cheon’s blade descended upon any who dared to impede him, and he launched himself from the ground. A colossal ship belonging to the Ten Thousand People Clan, moored at the shore, was directly in their path.

“Advance!”

“Yes!”

Gwak Hwan-So and Lee Ja-Yang surged forward, their swords mimicking the ebb and flow of the Southern Island’s waves against those who stood in their way. Unwavering resolve was etched upon both their faces.

Kakang!

In the fleeting moment created by the clash of steel, Baek Cheon utilized Gwak Hwan-So’s shoulder as a launchpad, propelling himself into the air.

“Huh?”

“What!”

Startled by an unexpected shadow that fell upon them, they swiftly averted their gaze upwards. There, silhouetted against the brilliant sun, stood a swordsman.

“Taaaat!”

A mighty roar escaped Baek Cheon’s lips as he brandished his sword. A gleaming, crescent-shaped sword qi cut through the humid Southern Island air, its path tracing a deadly arc as it charged forward.

Kagagagagagang!

The thick anchor rope, tethering the Ten Thousand People Clan’s vessel, snapped instantaneously.

Baek Cheon executed a swift spin, landed with effortless grace, and immediately swung his sword once more, bisecting the back of a Tiger Ghost Troop member.

A bright smile graced his features amidst the ferocious combat, and he murmured softly.

“Perhaps now you’ll understand what it feels like to have something dear taken from you.”

Whether his words reached their ears, he could not ascertain.