Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1266: Worry About The Ten Thousand People Clan Bastards! (1)

‘It’s the Heavenly Friends Alliance!’

Geum Yang-Baek couldn’t suppress his surprise.

Truth be told, when their initial strategy was drafted, Geum Yang-Baek held no doubt that their group would spearhead this entire endeavor.

It was a separate matter entirely from who conceptualized the plan; the true question was whose might would bring the devised strategy to fruition.

In Geum Yang-Baek’s estimation, that role should have undeniably fallen to him and the elders of Southern Island.

The reason? Wasn’t it self-evident?

Regardless of how far the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint’s renown echoed, or how even Southern Island heard tales of Mount Hua’s Five Swords, and though those accompanying them were destined to become heads of the Five Great Families, they were, ultimately, still just youths.

By that standard, weren’t they even younger than Southern Island’s top disciple, Gwak Hwan-So?

He certainly recognized their fame and their esteemed positions, but having cultivated for decades longer than them, the notion of being inferior in skill was simply inconceivable.

However, the leaders of the Heavenly Friends Alliance, particularly Mount Hua’s disciples, utterly demolished that assumption.

“Haaaaaah!”

Mount Hua’s Acting Sect Leader, Baek Cheon, unleashed a torrent of crimson sword qi from his blade. The sword energy dispersed as if oxidizing mid-flight, transforming into scarlet petals that swept towards the enemy.

It was an aura that blurred the lines between reality and illusion.

The purpose of such deceptive techniques was to bypass defenses that straightforward, honest assaults couldn’t breach.

Yet, the illusions woven by this sword transcended even that level.

Among the hundreds of scattering sword energies, discerning the genuine from the false was a futile effort. Even if one could perfectly identify them, blocking them was impossible.

“Ugh!”

“Aaaah!”

This very fact was brutally demonstrated by the plight of the Ten Thousand People Clan warriors facing Baek Cheon’s sword qi.

In the chaos of this clash, intercepting each of those minuscule sword energies individually presented a monumental challenge.

One might assume fending off such attacks solo would be far more arduous, but the reality proved otherwise. While a one-on-one duel offered ample maneuvering space, in a situation like this, retreating was out of the question.

This meant that Mount Hua’s sword techniques wielded astonishing might on a battlefield teeming with group combat.

‘Easier said than done.’

If wielding such formidable sword qi were as simple as speaking the words, wouldn’t every swordsman across the land have adopted the same approach?

Sword qi represented the extension of one’s internal energy through the sword. To meticulously fragment that qi and manipulate it with perfect precision was an extraordinarily demanding feat.

It was difficult to fathom the sheer intensity of training they must have endured to deploy it so effortlessly, even amidst such pressing circumstances.

‘How did individuals so young attain such mastery…’

To anyone else, such a thought might be deemed presumptuous. But Geum Yang-Baek was more than justified in thinking it. He was, after all, the Sect Leader of the Southern Island Sect, a formidable pillar among the Nine Great Sects.

And even to him, the prowess displayed by these young swordsmen rivaled the elders of Southern Island. Objectively speaking, setting aside their titles, they might even surpass them.

“Perish! You scum of the Ten Thousand People Clan!”

“Gul! I told you not to charge out like a stray foal!”

“But they are the Ten Thousand People Clan, sahyung!”

“Just shut your trap, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆, and keep your feet planted firmly! You damned brat!”

Furthermore, their proficiency in confronting foes beyond mere swordsmanship was on a completely different level compared to the elders of the Southern Island Sect.

Even as those consumed by battlefield frenzy surged towards them, these disciples bolstered morale instead of succumbing to fear, as if eager to charge forward themselves.

‘Is this truly Mount Hua?’

Geum Yang-Baek found himself reflecting anew.

While the Southern Island Sect remained ensnared in the illusion that they had honed their swordsmanship amid the tranquil isolation of the distant Southern Island, these others had forged their strength through countless, brutal encounters.

Stagnant water eventually becomes foul.

It struck him with profound clarity that his leadership for Southern Island might have transformed it not into a boundless ocean, but into a stagnant puddle confined to a small island.

“Sect Leader!”

“Understood!”

The urgent voice beside him jolted Geum Yang-Baek back from his reverie.

Boom!

He unleashed his qi-release strike with greater force than usual. Simultaneously, a storm-like sword qi erupted from his drawn blade, rampaging with wild abandon.

Kraaaaaa!

Southern Island’s sword technique flowed like a roaring gust of wind and an advancing tidal wave.

Geum Yang-Baek’s blade cut once, then again, and yet again.

Wave upon wave! Another surge! Yet another!

Much like the ceaseless surge of waves crashing against the shore, Geum Yang-Baek’s sword qi relentlessly assaulted the enemy.

The visages of the Ten Thousand People Clan warriors turned ashen.

In stark contrast to Mount Hua’s swords—which, though dazzling and intimidating, lacked raw power—the sword qi unleashed by Geum Yang-Baek was raw and heavy. The sheer force of the internal qi contained within compelled onlookers to instinctively recoil.

“Hold the line! We must maintain our position until the ships are fully secured!”

“Yes!”

Witnessing that display of sword qi, the elders’ courage surged manifold, and they brandished their swords with renewed vigor.

Im So-Byeong, observing the unfolding chaos from the rear, couldn't help but smirk.

“The Nine Great Sects certainly live up to their name.”

The young disciples from Southern Island, rushing to capture the ships, offered little practical assistance. Frankly, even with their affiliation, it was unlikely for those new to true combat to perform effectively; a fraction of their usual capability would be a success.

Managing even half would be considered fortunate.

Yet, Geum Yang-Baek and the assembled elders were unleashing the full extent of their accumulated experience within the murim world. Their involvement provided a much-needed stabilization to the front lines.

However...

‘We cannot sustain this for long.’

Even so, the ultimate limit was apparent.

“Annihilate them!”

“Leave none alive!”

The warriors of the Ten Thousand People Clan advanced like ravenous beasts, their comrades’ fallen forms serving as stepping stones.

Those desperately holding the line numbered barely thirty. Even individuals capable of fighting a hundred foes simultaneously could not possibly repel such an overwhelming horde to the very end.

If such a feat were possible, would the Ten Thousand People Clan have ended up as the vanquished in the Four Sects Alliance conflict?

The sole reason they could maintain their ground was the critical initiative seized by Mount Hua, which had successfully shattered the enemy's initial momentum.

But that advantage was ephemeral.

Numbers could be insignificant at times, and paramount at others. Regardless of the prowess of those defending the front, aware of their sheer numerical superiority, the Ten Thousand People Clan relentlessly pressed their assault against the Heavenly Friends Alliance forces.

“Ugh!”

“Hold the line!”

Swish!

Jo Gul’s left arm was brutally gashed by an incoming blade, spraying crimson blood.

“Gul!”

“Stop fussing, sahyeong!”

“Fall back! I’ll…!”

“Ah, I told you not to make a fuss!”

Gritting his teeth and shouting defiance, Jo Gul lethally pierced the throat of the attacker charging at him.

Crunch!

As he withdrew his sword, hot blood erupted from the ruptured wound, drenching his face.

‘They are endless.’

No matter how many he struck down, their numbers showed no sign of diminishing. It was impossible to even gauge the extent of this seemingly infinite army.

It felt as though the entire vast shoreline was populated solely by the warriors of the Ten Thousand People Clan.

“Aaaah!”

A piercing scream from his vicinity nearly made Jo Gul turn his head. Only through extraordinary self-control did he manage to maintain his forward gaze at the last possible second. He could not afford to look away now.

‘No!’

The voice was unfamiliar. It likely belonged to one of the fallen elders of Southern Island.

Yet, this was no cause for comfort. More and more fighters were unmistakably reaching their breaking point.

“Scoundrel!”

The enemy’s response intensified, becoming even more relentless.

Realizing the futility of focusing solely on the few defenders, the Ten Thousand People Clan slightly moderated their tempo and pushed additional forces into the fray. Daggers flew over heads, and swords were thrust recklessly through the narrow gaps between combatants.

These seemingly haphazard, indiscriminate attacks posed a significant peril to those holding the line.

“Ugh!”

“Sago!”

“Maintain your formation!”

Yu Yiseol’s composed command jolted Jo Gul back to the present reality.

“Damn it! Green Forest King! How far are they?”

“...Not far. They should be arriving soon. What are those fools doing?”

“Yes?”

Suddenly, a furious shout erupted from Im So-Byeong.

“Hey! You imbeciles! What are you doing basking in the sun!”

What Im So-Byeong was observing were the disciples of Southern Island who had disembarked from the ships and were now pushing energetically towards the sea. As if responding to the curse from behind, one of them yelled back:

“The ship, the ship! It’s grounded on the sandbar! We must push it back into the water!”

“What?”

Im So-Byeong’s gaze snapped back to the ship, his eyes widening in disbelief. The bow was now clearly resting on the shore.

‘It wasn’t like that just a moment ago?’

He couldn't possibly have misjudged such a critical detail, could he?

“The tide is receding! The water is pulling away due to the ebb!”

“Ebb tide? What are you talking about?”

Lee Ja-Yang rolled his eyes in exasperation.

But Im So-Byeong had his own justification. Having spent his entire life in the mountains, what knowledge could he possibly possess about the ebb and flow of island tides?

“Push it out immediately!”

“The ship… it’s so enormous…!”

At that moment, Im So-Byeong bit his lip in apparent madness.

“Green Forest King! Over here!”

“Yes?”

“Monk, Hae Yeon!”

“Yes!”

Before Im So-Byeong could formulate a plan, Hae Yeon, following Baek Cheon’s command, sprinted forward like a bolt of lightning. Witnessing this, Im So-Byeong’s eyes bulged.

“You mad monk! Doing that will leave the front exposed—!”

“I’m cooooominggggg!”

“Aaaah! Move! Not you, you useless lout!”

Im So-Byeong shoved Seol So-Baek aside, who was about to dash off, then took Hae Yeon’s vacated position and began furiously fanning himself.

“You fools who underestimate the value of a strategist! Only when you’ve all perished will you gain any sense!”

Regardless of Im So-Byeong’s agitated pronouncements, Hae Yeon reached the ship’s bow and bellowed:

“Make way!”

“Yes?”

“Quickly!”