Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1394: He Will Be Waiting For Us. (4)

It’s dark and damp. A musty stench of something dried up stung the nose. Even that awful smell only felt dulled.

Chung Myung was used to it.

The smell of the dead. It filled the surroundings, as if half a step already taken between life and death.

It wasn’t surprising. For some time now this smell hadn’t left him, like the scent of blood that won’t wash away no matter how much you scrub.

“Are you still alive?”

At the voice, Chung Myung turned his head slightly. Seeing who had entered the cave, he nodded slowly.

“People’s lives can be stubborn things, huh.”

Hearing that, Chung Myung leaned his head against the cave wall with an indifferent expression and asked.

“And them?”

“They don’t seem to have figured out where we are yet... They’ll be forming a cordon, no doubt. Have we not been through this before?”

“Probably.”

Tang Bo clicked his tongue, checked Chung Myung’s condition, and frowned.

“Let’s see. It’s opened up again, it seems.”

“Leave it. I won’t die.”

“Those about to die always say that and then die. Move your arm a bit.”

Chung Myung frowned slightly, but Tang Bo ignored it and roughly pushed his arm aside. A low groan escaped Chung Myung’s lips.

“Ugh, damn it...”

“Well, looks like it hurts.”

Tang Bo rolled up his sleeve and his face contorted. A long gash ran from the armpit to the lower belly. It had been treated once before, but it had reopened and rotten blood and pus poured out.

“Does your mouth not know the word ‘treatment’, hyung? Or is your head so empty that the concept couldn’t fit? Did you even learn the basics?”

“Shut your mouth. You’re irritating.”

“You’re like a madman.”

Tang Bo grumbled as he skillfully cut the sutures mending Chung Myung’s wound. Even as he sliced through the caked wound, Chung Myung remained silent.

After a moment of silence, Chung Myung asked.

“Is there any alcohol left?”

“Not enough to even disinfect.”

“Give it.”

“No, you fool. How many times do I have to say it? There’s not enough to disinfect.”

“I said I know. Give it.”

“Ha...”

Tang Bo looked at Chung Myung in disbelief, then shook his head. He unfastened a bottle of strong alcohol from his waist and tossed it toward Chung Myung’s face.

“Drink it and die fast.”

Tap.

Chung Myung snatched the bottle in front of his face and deftly opened the cap with one hand. He poured the liquor into his mouth at once, closed his eyes, and rested his head against the cave wall. Tang Bo muttered like a sigh.

“Is he possessed by a ghost that can’t die from alcohol?”

“The other way around. He drinks before he becomes a ghost, he won’t be able to drink once he’s dead.”

“Ha...”

Tang Bo shook his head as if he didn’t even want to deal with it and examined Chung Myung’s wound again. He squeezed out the pus and cut away the dead flesh. Such treatment would knock out most people, but for a warrior like Chung Myung, he could endure it.

“There’s no clean cloth here, you damn man! You need to disinfect with alcohol.”

But Chung Myung ignored him and kept drinking. Tang Bo rolled his eyes and swallowed his curse. It was his own mistake to try to argue with this man.

Tang Bo applied the last of the hemostatic salve over Chung Myung’s wound as if covering it, then plopped down beside him.

“Give it here.”

“There’s barely anything to drink...”

“I’m going to drink some, too, so hand it over!”

Chung Myung snorted and finally handed the bottle to Tang Bo. Tang Bo snatched it irritably and gulped it down.

“Drink it sparingly.”

“Better I drink it than have the patient swallow it all.”

Chung Myung chuckled. The remark wasn’t entirely wrong.

Tang Bo put the bottle down and looked out of the cave. Outside, Demonic Cult warriors swarmed like ants. It wouldn’t be long before this place was discovered.

“Okay, Taoist hyung.”

“What?”

“Can we make it back alive?”

A nonchalant answer came back. Tang Bo sighed.

“I told you to just let that damn high priest go. Is it sensible to come all the way here just to chop off his head? If we die like this, it’s ‘natural causes,’ huh! Natural causes!”

“But we killed who needed killing.”

“We’re the ones likely to die here, I’m telling you!”

“Then it can’t be helped.”

Tang Bo silently tore through his hair once and muttered words that made little sense. They were curses about Chung Myung, vicious enough that anyone could tell without translating.

‘Likely to die...’

A strange smile formed at the corner of Chung Myung’s mouth.

So what if that was the case?

There were countless bodies rotting in this damned land. They all turned into maggot-ridden corpses and rotted away; what difference would adding Chung Myung’s corpse make?

While alive, you do what’s to be done. If the price is death, that doesn’t stop you from doing it.

“Sometimes, when I look at you, Taoist hyung...”

“...Hm?”

“You seem to have a screw loose somewhere.”

“...”

“No, really. Among those called absolute strong warriors, how many are sane, anyway?”

“You’re one of them, too.”

Tang Bo, who’d briefly been at a loss for words, laughed.

“Fair enough. If I were sane, I wouldn’t be stuck by the likes of you.”

“Good, then.”

Chung Myung snatched the bottle from Tang Bo’s hand and drank. Then he firmly pressed the cap closed.

Slowly rising to his feet, he clenched and unclenched his fist lightly, nodded, and handed the bottle back to Tang Bo.

“Tie it on so it won’t break.”

“Huh?”

“Because we’ll finish it when we get back.”

“...You’re going out now?”

“The cordon will only tighten over time and get harder to break. Let’s move.”

Tang Bo stared at Chung Myung in astonishment.

Of course Chung Myung wasn’t wrong. The longer they delayed, the thicker the cordon and the greater the danger; the chances of coming back alive shrank.

But isn’t that something you say after checking people’s conditions? Could they break the cordon in Chung Myung’s current state?

Tang Bo bit the inside of his cheek and said.

“Hyung... if we wait longer, reinforcements might come. Elder Chung Mun’s forces...”

But there was no answer. Tang Bo sighed deeply.

He knew the truth: the main force couldn’t spare aid for the two of them. In the first place, wasn’t Chung Myung’s reckless attempt on the high priest’s neck meant to buy time for the ambushed main force?

In a situation where just containing the chaos was a struggle, sending a relief team would be impossible.

“Enough whining, get up.”

“Who’s whining...”

Reluctantly grumbling, Tang Bo got to his feet. His eyes quickly scanned Chung Myung’s body again.

“Can you fight?”

“Stronger than you, at least.”

“...I guarantee, Taoist hyung, you’ll fall into hell.”

“You make it sound novel.”

Chung Myung strode out of the cave without hesitation.

The sword in his hand felt heavy. With every step, his wavering body had long since slipped beyond his control.

The stench of death stung more strongly now. Somewhere on the mountain before him could become his humble grave. He murmured softly.

“Don’t fall behind.”

“Who is that supposed to be for?”

Chung Myung snorted. Exactly.

Bang!

He kicked off the ground and plunged into the woods, where Demonic Cult members in black garments appeared before his eyes. They charged at once, their eyes bloodshot.

Chung Myung swung his sword casually and immediately severed the cult members’ necks.

Hot blood splattered his face. The warmth of what had been living breath moments before would soon disperse and quickly cool, like this blood already losing heat.

“They’re coming!”

Tang Bo’s thrown blade cut the air like lightning. Chung Myung spat the blood from his mouth; the corner of his eye twitched.

‘Should’ve had one more swig before coming out?’

The thick smell of blood chased away the lingering scent of alcohol in his mouth.

‘If we get back, I’ll drink until I’m drunk.’

If they couldn’t return?

Well. He’d probably just regret the alcohol he didn’t get to drink. Nothing more.

Swoosh!

He deflected the incoming blade. But perhaps due to his wound his reaction was a touch slow, and he couldn’t prevent it grazing his flank.

Pushing the nauseating pain out of his awareness, Chung Myung swung his sword. Another life was cut down mercilessly.

‘No one really wants to die.’

But there are people for whom life isn’t desperately cherished; those who find breathing dull and tiresome.

“Tang Bo.”

“Now of all times?”

Tang Bo moved quickly and asked, incredulous. Chung Myung impaled a cult member’s heart with the tip of his sword and said calmly.

“When the war’s over, will you go back to the Tang Family?”

“Or what, come to Mount Hua? Is there anywhere else for me to go?”

Chung Myung chuckled. Hearing it, the question sounded stupid.

Swoosh!

At that moment Tang Bo hurled the retrieved throwing blade again and said.

“Would you like to tour around with me?”

“Tour...”

“If you’ve nothing better to do, you might as well do that.”

“...Not bad.”

Mulling over Tang Bo’s words in his ear, Chung Myung murmured.

Rather than an empty Mount Hua, better than watching the surviving Chung Mun rot away in self-reproach.

“Then stop whining and hold your sword properly. First we have to survive; only then can we tour or whatever!”

“Right. When we return, first thing’s to drink.”

“Fine, so watch the front properly!”

Chung Myung smiled.

A tour wasn’t bad. Following that man to the Tang Family and living as a guest might not be so bad. Perhaps returning to Mount Hua might be better than he thought.

Even living as an empty shell would be better than rotting away.

Chung Myung adjusted his grip on the sword.

But even then, the thought that one more sip might have been okay didn’t disappear.

Demonic Cultists surged in a dark wave. Chung Myung’s mouth twisted with a predatory light.

“No matter what...”

Baring his teeth, Chung Myung emitted a fierce killing intent.

“I won’t die until I cut off that Heavenly Demon’s head.”

Chung Myung kicked off the ground with all his might; the Sword Master stepped forward.

❀ ❀ ❀

He had no strength in his fingertips.

His head, resting against a tree trunk, kept slipping to the side. If he relaxed even a little he’d lose consciousness. The two eyes glimpsed through blood-soaked hair looked perilously close to going out.

Where was this again?

A burning thirst surged. It was unbearable. In the lethargy that enveloped his whole body, only that thirst felt whole.

Crack.

The moment his mouth parted slightly, his parched lips split and bled.

“Alcohol...”

His head tilted back.

He looked toward the sky, where daylight brightened in the distance. Even glimpsed through the dense trees, it was cruelly beautiful.

“...I should’ve brought some.”

A thin laugh, about to break, slipped from his parted lips.

“This way!”

The peace lasted only a moment before the surroundings erupted into noise.

Snap.

Chung Myung reflexively grabbed the Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword.

“They don’t give a moment’s rest... damned bastards.”

Chung Myung laughed softly and turned his head to glare at those rushing toward him.

‘How did I get back alive then?’

He couldn’t remember clearly.

Maybe it was because he’d been through such things too many times.

Maybe the memory was just too old.

And maybe...

Bang.

Chung Myung launched himself with all his might. Behind him, members of the Ten Thousand People Clan followed, their eyes flashing with killing intent.