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It would be hard to believe if it were recounted to others that such a scene had unfolded as a prelude to a battle among the most imposing figures of that time.
Wudang, Namgung, Qingcheng, and Shaolin.
Promising and influential sects and families around the world, each bringing their leaders and various warriors with the arrogant pride worthy of the Ten Great Sect and Five Great Families.
At the lowest and most vulnerable point, these same sects seemed like sheep anxiously awaiting slaughter by the fearsome wolf looming above.
Jang Ilso, Leader of the Evil Tyrant Alliance, with his incomprehensible aura and bloodthirsty and unpredictable behavior, toyed with those lives in a way only he knew how.
So why?
When there was no reason to divert their gaze from that desperate scene. Why did everyone automatically turn towards the origin of those carefree, almost inaudible steps at the top of the cliff?
Why couldn't they ignore a previously unknown presence?
"Mount Hua Divine Dragon."
A whisper mixed with joy and surprise was heard by all present due to the absolute silence.
The leaders of the sects below couldn't hide the surprise on their bewildered faces. It was amusing how childish they seemed after losing much of that nauseating pride they had so vaunted.
"Divine Dragon!"
Despite being an irritating variable for those sects, at that moment, it was exactly what they needed to escape that situation. If they could use the Mount Hua sect as a distraction even for a few minutes, they could climb that cliff and end the life of the leader of that cursed alliance between evil sects.
Unaware that they had created hopes, and expectations about something (someone) unpredictable. Their faces relaxed minimally, and their minds seemed to clear, while some even sighed with relief.
"Divine Dragon of Mount Hua! Block their path. Delay them for a few moments until we climb the cliff and finish them off."
Heo Dojin made his voice heard at the top of the cliff as he exchanged strategic looks with others around him, who seemed to share his ideas.
"Do you want us to buy time?"
The swordsman tilted his head in innocent doubt.
"Exactly! Just for a moment. Don't let them use the explosives."
"Ah!"
The young man pounded his fist into his palm as if he finally understood.
Heo Dojin was agitated with anticipation for the start of that battle. He didn't have such high expectations for the distraction caused by the Mount Hua sect. In other words, he didn't expect them to hold out for very long. But just a moment was enough.
"Do you want us to buy time for you to climb up here?"
"That's it!"
It shouldn't be so hard to understand, so why?
"Us?"
“...”
“Why?”
It was even stranger because it seemed like such an innocent and genuine question from the young swordsman.
What's with him?
What is this unease growing in their chests over that curious and clear gaze?
“Divine Dragon?!”
“Ah! Perhaps you thought we came here to fight... Tsk tsk, what to do?”
“W-what—”
“We came to watch.”
What was he talking about?
“You told us to stay out of this. How could we disobey an order given by the Ten Great Clans and Great Families?”
For a split second, they felt a sense of disgust between those words that vanished instantly as if it had never existed. As if they had imagined it.
Was it imagination?
“We're following orders so don't worry about us. Just carry on with what you were doing—”
“Divine Dragon?! What do you think you're doing?!”
Namgung Hwang, lord of the Namgung family, shouted frustratingly in a voice that echoed across the cliff, reaching everyone's ears.
“Eh? So loud, as expected of the great Lord Namgung.”
Chung Myung lightly pressed his ears.
“No matter how bad the relationship between clans is. Against Evil Sects, we must help each other! Where is your Sect Leader?! Why is he hiding behind a kid?!”
“You seem a bit angry.”
The young swordsman stared directly at Namgung Hwang with orbs that slowly darkened.
“You told us to stay out, and now you want us to fight for you? Weren't you the ones who said we were not needed and would only get in the way? What exactly do you want us to do? Which order should we obey?”
“E-Even so—”
“Ya.”
The freezing tone made the lord lose his words.
What's with all that compressed anger in a single word?
“Isn't it too arrogant for someone stuck down there like a rat? If you need something, you need to ask properly, Lord Namgung. But what could I expect from The Ten Great Sect and Five Great Family?."
You remain exactly the same even after 100 years.
So confusing.
The leaders couldn't even comprehend that tone of voice, as those eyes that were so pink became red in an instant.
“I've already said. Solve this problem yourselves.”
Even in that cursed and unjust world, an individual cannot think they will never fail or lose. At that moment, those at the lowest level of that cliff, at least those who minimally knew a little about the invisible blood on the hands of the Ten Great Clans, felt the true weight of those words.
All eyes glued to the swordsman turned to the disciple Baek Cheon who appeared just behind him and said something close to his ear, pointing at someone down there, earning a small irritated click of his tongue.
“Hey, fake monk!”
The gazes split to search for the monk to whom the swordsman referred, who stepped forward with a lost expression.
“D-dojang!”
“Come up here, already.”
“H-how could I abandon everyone here? Impossible—”
“Oh, really? What a pity.”
Bored, Chung Myung cut off his words. He had sat right on the edge of the cliff like a mischievous child swinging their legs in the air.
“But are you okay with this? Dying here? I thought you were going to change Shaolin. That's what you said yourself.”
Somehow, the monotonous voice had the opposite effect and was intimidating enough to make the anxious Hyeyeon shudder.
“Ey. It was my fault for getting my hopes up.”
Bop Kye, despite being completely disoriented by the situation, at least had full confidence that his disciple, junior martial brother, and most promising genius of Shaolin, Hyeyeon, would never be hypnotized by such empty words.
That swordsman acted with unwarranted arrogance and never offered anything substantial, but did he really wish for Hyeyeon to exchange a lifetime of upbringing and care for a few months by his side in that lost sect?
Of course, the firmest and most unshakeable of trusts trembled in the face of the smallest adversities, and Chung Myung was fully aware of that.
Bop Kye could feel a bitterness rising in his throat as their gazes met in the air. That expressionless face somehow seemed to be smiling at him.
Ah...Yes.
His eyes, increasingly red and bright, were smiling in his direction. Mocking his blind confidence in a bird that had already left the nest once.
What would prevent that bird from flying again now that it knew a little more of the world and had even formed a nest in another tree?
Is this a joke?
Is this even possible?
“Dojang...”
“H-Hyeyeon!”
He cried desperately for the other's attention, but what he saw were the broad backs that he hadn't even realized had become so wide and strong when they had always been delicate and muscleless. His disciple no longer looked at him, his head raised to the sky once more, facing the orbs that never avoided eye contact.
What is this?!
What does this mean?!
“Hyeyeon, how dare you even think of betraying Shaolin! Look at me!”
His shouts increased in volume but lost in substance. They did not receive the proper attention from the monk in front of him.
“Shaolin and the other sects, betrayed them first, Elder! There is blood on our hands that has been here since birth and will be here until we die. The least I can do is acknowledge that.”
“Wh-what is this—?!”
“This is something I must do. The Shaolin I respect is not like this. Mistakes must be corrected, even if it means paying the price.”
“You're insane! You're completely insane! You're going to trade Shaolin for a sect that has gained a minimum of fame?! Do you know how much Shaolin invested in you? Do you think it was all for free-”
“Of course not. And from now on, I intend to pay the price for such care. I will restore Shaolin to what it should be. He is the only one who can help me with that.”
Ah?
Did the future of Shaolin just fall into the hands of that man?
When?! When did he have the time to paint Hyeyeon with his colors?!
Feeling his legs weak and his body losing strength, with hopes becoming something like a distant dream, Bop Kye fell to the ground with hands weakly grasping the earth, but his head never lowered its gaze from the one who was slowly stealing everything from him.
The look was met, and the red mouth opened.
“Yu Iseol.”
The short call was enough for the disciple to walk in his direction, passing by him and throwing herself off the cliff without any hesitation.
The face was so cold and emotionless that it could be mistaken for a corpse if it weren't moving at that moment.
Are they crazy?!
Those below the cliff didn't know how to react anymore. A disciple of the sect that had just denied them help was throwing herself from that dangerous height with just a call as if she were ready to die.
As if synchronized, Hyeyeon began to glow with an enviable and blinding golden light that took on the divine form of a huge palm. Casting the incredible concentration of power to the ground as an impulse, his body was launched upwards.
His wrist was held by the strong grip of the swordswoman, and spinning gracefully in the air, creating more and more momentum, Hyeyeon was propelled upwards, grabbing the edge of the cliff with both hands and then rescued by Baek Cheon.
After the impeccable and enviable teamwork that seemed so flawless that it couldn't be confidently said that it could be replicated even by elders, they wondered what would happen to the disciple who was free-falling.
Did they sacrifice a disciple to save the genius of Shaolin?
Contrary to what they thought in their mental confusion, Yu Iseol stopped the free fall by planting her sword into the cliff walls and easily used just the right amount of energy to propel herself upwards by stepping on the cold metal of her sword before gracefully ascending and landing on the edge of the cliff, sheathing her sword and turning her gaze to Chung Myung seated there.
“Good job, Samae.”
The simple words were enough, and Yu Iseol just returned to her position with the other disciples a little further behind.
“Right. Now... Namgung.”
What?!
Lord Namgung opened his mouth in a roar, gripping the tip of his sword.
“Don't you dare say my family's name! You think I'm going to accept your ridiculous false pity, you brat—”
“Are you going to keep shouting? It's a bit annoying. You should conserve your energy to try to survive.”
“...?!”
Before the lord could say anything, the hand slowly raised in the air and pointed in his direction elegantly and without haste. Precisely, to someone behind him whom that swordsman truly stood with, rather than the scandalous lord.
Namgung Dowi had been drawn by those blood-colored eyes since the beginning of his arrival until now, and when his gaze was met, somewhere inside him, he was certain.
That man was calling him. Ordering him to take steps toward him.
The obvious decision was to stay there. No, the obvious decision was to repudiate that disciple's audacity to try to command him to betray his own family; his blood.
Still—
An internal war raged in the depths of his soul at that moment. Between reason and emotion. Between rationality and utter madness. Something he never thought could exist within him.
Since he had known him until now, something slowly grew in his chest and took hold. Perhaps admiration, perhaps anger, or perhaps something he couldn't even comprehend pulling him towards that disciple.
He wasn't even allowed to exchange glances with his progenitor, who looked at him astounded.
“Dowi?... what do you think you're doing? Say something or the others will get the wrong idea—”
“Namgung Dowi.”
The voice, not so loud or soft, still reached everyone's ears, almost like a cursed spell, transforming a scene that should have been violent, messy, and noisy into his own territory.
“What are you going to do? Tell me clearly. I intend to accept any decision.”
He wanted to say no. He wanted to refuse for obvious reasons. Oh, how he wanted to say that he would never abandon his father.
Why were those words he repeated in his mind countless times so difficult to say?
He wanted to know what it was like to look down on everyone like he was being looked at in that moment, as if his decision mattered when obviously, denying that invitation would only bring him death.
The power to give a sense of control to a poor soul. The conviction to achieve anything with a stretch of his hands.
It was the privilege of the strong. Namgung Dowi wanted that.
He bitterly wanted it.
He desperately wanted that hand to grab him when he reached the top of the cliff.
“I-I...”
“...Dowi.”
The father's disappointment.
They say that children could never feel the same level of love that their own parents felt for them. A child's love is something to be earned, and if well executed, it is a bond that would hardly be broken.
The scene in front of Namgung Hwang's eyes showed him that his bonds were flawed, or that perhaps that swordsman simply exerted too much authority to deny.
(A control that would make a disciple abandon the sect that had raised him.
And that would make a son abandon a father.)
What was the correct answer to all the hesitation and anguish he saw in his child's eyes?
“Daeng!”
The playful sound that came from his mouth was followed by a tone of voice devoted to feelings and an intense look seemed to gaze at Dowi intrigued.
“Time's up, Namgung Dowi.”
“N-no! Wait—”
“Ah-ah.”
The swordsman raised his finger, ordering silence.
“I guess blood is thicker than water, in the end. I appreciate that, truly... Do you know that dying alongside your family would be considered a privilege in a war?”
Chung Myung digressed as if recounting a happy story.
“A hundred years ago, children your age and even younger probably didn't have that privilege. Dying with honor? Dignity? Conviction? They probably died alone while waiting for their guardians, their siblings, their family who would never show up.”
Probably?
No, that was exactly what happened to the children who were left behind when Chung Myung and the others went to war. When they thought they could trust their backs to those fucking bastards worse than the Demonic Sect.
When they allowed things much more important than their buildings, residences, warehouses, or books to burn; the soul of Mount Hua was set ablaze in a bright fire that grew larger and more violent until it returned after 100 years as a spirit of vengeance.
Namgung Dowi realized too late the consequences of his terrible decision when the eyes that looked at him with interest turned cold and detached from him.
“Swordsman.”
The strangely seductive voice abducted everyone's attention to the Lord of the Evil Alliance
“Aren't you taking too long? I need to kill them all, you know. If you keep trying to save them, it makes my life difficult.”
Chung Myung merely waved his hand, turning away without paying much attention to the snake clown who constantly analyzed him.
In one last observation of the ants just below...
The fear, despair, and hopelessness in the eyes of those fools made him nauseous, just imagining his children with the same look. His nails dug into his skin until blood was drawn, but he still didn't look away.
Like an incompetent bastard he had been in the past and probably would continue to be, he should engrave that scene in his mind like a damn burn mark fixed on the skin, making everything around it ugly.
Yet his face was lifted by Baek Cheon's firm hand, which with the free hand released the pressure of his nails cutting the skin and expelling blood.
“Enough, Chung Myung-ah. There's nothing else to do here, right?”
Baek Cheon was reminding him of the obvious to pull him out of the nightmare he was daydreaming about, a tired sigh escaping his red lips as he promptly opened his palm for the soft cloth to glide over his skin and collect the fresh blood.
“This will heal on its own.”
“Give me your other hand.”
The request from the great Sasuk was promptly obeyed, and Tang Soso quickly bandaged it before he even realized it.
Perhaps there were still fluctuations in his heart, but he would make them disappear.
“Hey, cursed snake! Do whatever you want.”
Jang Ilso smiled at the call in his direction and gave a small, elegant signal to Ho Gamyung beside him.
“Aren't you going to stay and watch, swordsman? You seem like you'd love to see something like this even more than I would.”
Which was curious.
It was curious how that demon seemed even more perverse than Jang Ilso but was still so different from himself.
Perhaps even the Evil Alliance Lord was not immune to the hypnotic color of those orbs.
“I have better things to do, you bastard. I don't have to applaud your antics.”
“It's a shame, but it's up to you... By the way. Does that mean you're on our side, right?”
Laughter spread throughout the vast area, contrasting intensely with the despair etched on the faces of those below.
“Since when do you tell jokes? In this life, there is only one person I detest more than you. Just wait a bit until I come back to get your neck.”
“Hm~ that might not be possible. You see... If the handsome swordsman isn't on my side, why would I let alive little whelps who intend to challenge me in the future?”
“Jang Ilso, you of all people should know.”
The gray eyes shone as they met ruby eyes one last time.
“The deadliest poison is the one that is invisible to the eyes. If you want to expedite your death, come to me. It's not a problem.”
“Oh, Should I—?”
The lord was interrupted by his strategist approaching and whispering something to him. At the end of the message transmission, Jang Ilso opened a huge smile that was met with an even bigger smile by the younger man.
“...How terrifying, Swordsman~ You almost fooled me this time.”
The Evil Alliance Leader raised his hands in surrender with an expression as entertained as a child with his favorite toy.
And to think that little demon had put invisible poison on his feet, right under his nose. Jang Ilso still didn't exactly want to fight the Tang and Mount Hua family when his forces weren't fully gathered yet.
Therefore, even though his instincts were screaming not to let that Imoogi go, he had to control himself.
That's right, one thing at a time.
As the patient man he was, Jang Ilso was willing to wait for eternity if it meant having the corresponding reward in the end.
“What a pity, I wanted to finish you off quickly.”
“Let's leave our sweet encounter for next time.”
Even against his own will, the bright gray gaze shifted to the poor pups looking up from below, reflecting pure despair in their thousands of eyes.
“Divine Dragon! Mount Hua! I'll never forgive you! Do you hear me?! Even if I become a vengeful ghost!”
Namgung Hwang demonstrated his anger in a state of greater insanity, but Chung Myung didn't pay him the slightest attention and commanded the disciples to return.
It wasn't enough anger. It didn't even scratch the surface. It wasn't enough to become a vengeful spirit, poor Lord Namgung.
How unfair the situation might seem.
Ask your ancestors when you meet in hell.
Chung Myung wasn't honest, kind, or sensitive.
He wasn't as intelligent as Cheon Jin or as virtuous as Chung Mun.
So why had he reincarnated? He had thought so many times about why he had been chosen to bear such an infernal weight on his shoulders.
Why not someone more responsible? Someone more human than Chung Myung could ever be.
There was no answer. There was no satisfactory solution, but that was okay.
There was no one better than Chung Myung at finding an answer when no one else could.
He was tired of trying to be someone he wasn't for the end of that cycle of violence. Why did he have to be the one to break it? Why the hell did he have to learn to forgive when that wasn't who he really was?
That may be the reason he was there and not Chung Mun.
Grace returned twofold , Evil returned ten times worse.
Chung Myung was never greedy for authority. He never wanted much beyond freedom and money, but that was a luxury for those who continued to live.
He had already died once. What right did he have to enjoy this life peacefully?
He wanted to show the world what happens when you burn, hurt, and kill without discrimination.
If they wanted to get rid of Mount Hua, they should have burned everything to the ground, until not a single trace of a wall remained there, or any trace of human life.
Now they would pay the price for their incompetence.
(They would pay the price for not having killed them correctly.)
So He would show them.
Chung Myung would rip that disgusting hypocrisy out of their bodies with his own teeth.
One by one.
One by one.
One by one—
“You're doing it again.”
A gentle touch on his forehead snapped him out of the trance he didn't even realize he had fallen into. Yoon Jong sighed understandingly and pointed to his fist clenched again. The nails trying to break through the layers of the previously made bandage.
Once the older disciple saw the other's expression softening, he finally inquired with the doubts in his mind.
“Are you okay? Leaving like this?”
“Are you talking about Jang Ilso?”
The sahyung nodded and began to walk alongside Chung Myung, who had started to walk away.
Screams, burning fires, and explosions like background noise didn't bother them enough to pay attention.
“We're still not strong enough to take down that damn bastard, so it's okay. Of course, I intend to change that in the shortest possible time.”
The younger one looked at the disciples walking calmly in front of them.
He was ready to set the world on fire for these children.
If there was justice in this world, they would be at the top, as descendants of the heroes of the past era, but since they refused to give them their rightful place, Chung Myung only needed to take it back.
As always.
'Sect Leader Sahyung... Have I disappointed you?'
The bright rubies observed the cloudy sky with a bored gaze.
'Perhaps that's what you were trying to avoid?'
Maybe Chung Mun's secret goal in turning Chung Myung into a human was to prevent the coming of this monster that grew in his heart and took hold of his mind.
But sahyung, the world is no longer the place you knew.
Even your inspiring words would be swallowed by the greed and hypocrisy of this era.
They refuse to admit their mistakes. They refuse to yield even for a moment. It's disgusting. It's repulsive.
Sahyung.
Sect Leader, sahyung.
That is the last time I will call you and seek your image deep within my heart.
From that moment on, Chung Myung would no longer be restrained by any moral chain.
Nothing had changed. Mount Hua was and always would be his top priority. Above everyone's life and above his own life.
Whether it was Abbot, Jang Ilso, or the Emperor, those brats fighting for the top of the world would soon realize how unjust and futile everything becomes when an adult intervenes in a fight between spoiled children.
Hey, Sahyung, don't be so angry with me up there.
You should have come in my place if you wanted things to be different.
His small smile also lacked emotion, but his elegant steps away from the bloody scene unfolding behind him were filled with authority and arrogance.
All the fury and hatred that he had harbored for 100 years, would explode upon innocent children.
No matter how much time passed in that era, how many good people he met, or how naive the future generations ahead of him were, who didn't even know their hands were soaked in the blood of his junior brothers and seniors, his heart would never recover.
An Imoogi that had failed to become a dragon was destined to have its scales dyed in absolute black,
evidence of corruption and the loss of its dignity intend to now live in a cycle of failure.
An Imoogi that had lost everything could either be consumed by self-pity and resentment against himself, dissolving in his mind...
Or he could indeed become a more dangerous and cunning existence than a Dragon.
Oh, poor children, descendants of sinners, so ignorant of how frightening the unchained and unrestrained Plum Blossom Sword Saint could be.