Novel Return of Mount Hua Sect Chapter 299

Eye.

The cold gaze presses Isong Baek.

Isong Baek was thrilled by a sensation he had never felt in his entire life when he met the eyes.

The sensation that a sharp, drawn dagger has struck the heart.

‘What the hell…’

He believed he knew enough.

What kind of person is he now dealing with?

Isong Baek’s thoughts were completely distorted when he saw the current blow and those cold eyes.

‘Perhaps I didn’t know him at all?’

Eududuk!

“Keuk.”

Isong Baek’s waist twisted and screamed as Chung Myung pressed down on the sword.

“What are you looking for?”

A cold voice approached Isong Baek.

“It’s so easy to talk with your mouth. But putting it into practice is another matter. What are you going to do?”

Kwang!

Chung Myung’s wrist moves slightly and he forcesfully pushes the sword. Isong Baek flew hopelessly backward, like a storm-tossed leaf.

Kwadang!

He clenched his teeth and pulled himself up after falling to the ground.

Rumble.

His entire body began to tremble like aspen.

He notices Chung Myung walking with his sword slanted as soon as he raises his head.

Unknowingly, Isong Baek bit his lower lip.

‘Does anyone else in the world look that good with that look?’

With subdued eyes, Chung Myung opened his mouth.

“I swing my sword ten thousand times a day. It’s not that difficult.”

Take small steps.

“However, the world does not remain the same every day. Sometimes there’s a storm, sometimes there’s a lot of snow, and sometimes there’s me. Can you then continue to use your sword after that day?”

“…….”

Isong Baek raises his sword in the direction of Chung Myung.

“It’s easy…….”

Chung Myung’s sword was struck violently once more.

Kuuung!

With a suppressed groan that came out of his mouth, Isong Baek stopped Chung Myung from striking.

“to say.”

Kwaaaaang!

Chung Myung’s sword strikes Isong Baek once more. The bone screams as the sword bend as if to break.

The blood oozes from the torn hand holding the sword, and the tightly biting lips burst, leaving a fishy taste of iron in the mouth. His bloodshot eyes were bright red, as if they were about to bleed.

Chung Myung looked down at Isong Baek.

A blank expression.

Isong Baek’s soul seemed to be frozen by his usual expressionless expression.

Chung Myung then removed the sword he was holding and retreated slowly. Then he stabbed Isong Baek again with his sword.

Exact movement with no superfluous elements.

It was a sword that screamed as if it had been well practiced.

But Isong Baek had a completely different impression of the sword.

‘What!’

Isong Baek desperately twisted his body.

Chwaak.

Chung Myung’s sword grazes his neck just so. Even though he swings with the scabbard still attached, the skin on his neck is ripped by the wind pressure alone, and red blood flies out drop by drop.

‘How the hell?’

Chung Myung stepping back and taking the upper stance was the last thing Isong Baek saw. The next thing he knew, a sword was thrust in front of his neck.

There is no movement in between.

No, it isn’t!

Because it is a sword in such perfect motion, the series of steps that come through the swing feel as if they happened in an instant.

Perfection

This is the path he must take.

‘Does it go this far?’

Isong Baek’s body started to shake.

Setting a goal is not difficult. And it’s not that difficult to try until his body is crushed in pursuit of that goal.

The real challenge is not to be weighed down even after realizing how far away the goal is.

Isong Baek, who saw the goal he had to pursue with his own eyes, was taken aback by the seemingly endless path.

“Miscellaneous thoughts.”

Kwang!

Chung Myung’s sword pierces his now-empty side.

Udeudeuk.

Isong Baek vomited his blood, as if his ribs had been completely broken. And, like a child’s stone, he crashed into the stage’s ground and bounced.

“Kkeuk.”

Thud!

He grabbed the ground as he sprawled. The nose and mouth were filled with blood.

Trembled.

Despite this, Isong Baek raised his body.

“Can you persevere with one will, no matter how difficult it is?”

Chung Myung grinded his teeth coldly.

“If it was that easy, who’s not a master in the world? Get up. Prove it. That you deserve to be called Perfection.”

Isong Baek pulled out his sword.

His knees were shaky, and his grip on the sword shook erratically, but Isong Baek managed to take an upper stance.

“Haaat! Haaat!”

He yelled and dashed over to Chung Myung. His sword produced ten swords energy at the same time, aimed at Chung Myung’s entire body.

Unlike his trembling body, the blue-glowing sword energy was crystal clear.

But.

“It’s clumsy.”

Chung Myung reacted to the sword energy one by one, maintaining his posture.

The foot on the ground did not move an inch, and the straight waist did not shake. The only thing that moved was the loosened shoulder and the sword, which was stretched out and carefully retrieved.

Kwang, kwang, kwang, kwang, kwang!

Isong Baek’s sword reacted.

Chung Myung swung his sword mercilessly through the exposed chest, opening his shoulders.

Kuung!

Isong Baek spat blood again and flew off into the air.

The spectators’ faces were also dim at this point.

“Shouldn’t he be stopped?”

“The other person… can’t.”

“Hey, it’s already over; why doesn’t the referee call a timeout?” At that rate, he’ll perish!”

“How the hell did he get here?”

It’s no longer a matter of skill difference at this level. In the first place, this is not a match. If a spar means competing against each other’s level, this incident has tainted meaning.

“He.. he got up again..”

“Is he crazy? Why the hell is he getting up?”

“…Oh, dear.”

Everyone in the audience stared in awe at Isong Baek, who raised his body.

His wrist had swollen so much that it was difficult to distinguish between his hand and arm, and the blood flowing from his mouth was turning his chest red.

He, who had previously appeared neat and graceful, now had his hair sprawled out and almost half-dead.

Nobody believes they have a chance of winning.

Nonetheless, Isong Baek stood up and resumed the upper stance.

And at that precise moment.

Seururuk.

Isong Baek’s sword moved like flowing water, cutting the air in an oblique line.

Swaeaek!

The blue sword energy emitted by his sword passed right next to Chung Myung and through the stage’s corner.

Sogok!

A sharp knife was used to cut the edge of the stage, which was made of solid blue stone.

Kwaaa!

Isong Baek’s sword energy, which did not stop even after severing the stage, dug into the ground in front of the audience, leaving deep scars.

Thump!

A blue stone the size of a human soared into the air before plummeting to the ground.

“…….”

At the same time, the audience was speechless.

There have been hundreds of matches here so far, but this has never happened.

Although many talented participants who are confident of winning the competition have displayed their martial arts, it is certainly the first time that they have cut off the stage itself, not just leaving scars.

“That’s…….”

Someone opened their mouth and shut it again.

They found out, too.

That the person named Isong Baek is by no means weak.

No, he might be one of the strongest among those who have competed so far.

So, what is the scene unfolding before their eyes?

But despite the big commotion, Chung Myung only stared at Isong Baek with his sinking eyes.

“I don’t know anything of Southern Edge Sect’s sword.”

It’s a superficial thing to say he knows.

Chung Myung is not overconfident in himself. He clearly distinguishes between what he can and cannot do.

No matter how hard Southern Edge Sect put their heart and soul into it, they could not get Mount Hua’s soul contained in its swordsmanship. No matter how objective and cool Chung Myung analyzes the 36 Sword Under the Heaven, he cannot understand Southern Edge Sect’s soul contained in it.

It is entirely up to Isong Baek.

There’s only one thing Chung Myung can do.

To be asked and to confirm.

‘Can you walk?’

Perhaps it is a thorny path more than Chung Myung has walked.

Whether Isong Baek is really a talented person to walk that path, and… … .

Seusut.

Chung Myung’s feet gently step on the footwork.

The Plum Blossom Sword technique is not needed now. The splendid swordsmanship, the soul of Mount Hua, is meaningless now.

He is now only a block for Isong Baek.

Kwang!

Isong Baek’s sword tightly blocks Chung Myung’s sword strike.

It is not a sword that has only been jeopardized until now. A sword embracing a ray of strength in its softness resolutely blocked Chung Myung’s strike.

‘Not enough.’

There’s no chance with this.

Kwang! Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!

A series of cascading as flowing water continued.

As soon as the sword about slamming into his head is retrieved, it stabs him in the waist. As soon as it bounces off, it rotates gently to aim for his ankle.

The sword that was heading towards his ankle turned in an instant and pierced his side again. He bounces off the sword and cuts his chest again.

It’s all connected.

After all, a sword is something that you stab, block, and wield.

As soon as he continues to stab, block, and swing perfectly, the sword produces a form, and the form becomes a technique.

That’s swordsmanship.

The sword, which started from a simple thing, takes a certain shape, and soon turns into a martial art.

It was as if the sword was showing the process of development.

However, the result was by no means simple.

A series of strikes fell towards Isong Baek as if in a storm. The remnants of the sword energy, which had swelled countless times, had the momentum to literally cover Isong Baek’s whole body.

In the pouring storm of swords, Isong Baek let himself go.

‘I’m…’

He stared at the sword flying towards himself with his hazy, unraveled eyes.

‘What am I standing for?’

The body has already exceeded its limits. He couldn’t even feel the sense in his side when he got beaten. It’s hard to stand with holding the sword.

Victory?

He knows that he can’t dream of such a thing as that.

But why is he standing here now? Wouldn’t it be easier if he fell down?

But unlike the confusion in his head, his sword began to move regardless of his will.

Thousands of times a day. No, tens of thousands of times.

Unconsciously, the sword he swung in the midst of wind, rain, and snow is moving by itself to defend the enemy’s sword.

A sword that fills the world and pours out.

But is there any reason to be scared?

After all, the world is made up of thirty-six directions. If he could block all of them, there would be no sword that would touch his body.

Isong Baek’s sword lands in the direction of thirty-six. Not fast, but not slow.

Jungdo. (정도(正道).)

The sword, which was fully contained, began to fall neatly.

Kwang!

He’s blocking it.

Kwang! Kwaang!

He’s blocking it again.

The world is so frightening and so rapid.

Therefore, those who wish to advance must protect themselves completely. His sword is a sword that blocks. It is a sword that sticks to itself without shaking.

Thirty-six Movement World Swords. (Prev. Thirty-six Swords Under the Heaven.)

The essence of Southern Edge Sect’s swordsmanship, which had a history of hundreds of years, was now unfolding in Isong Baek’s hands.

All the people watching opened their mouths wide.

A continuous strike that goes on without a break, and a sword that blocks by keeping the center without being engulfed in the sequence.

Baek Chun clasped his fist tightly.

The wound on his wrist was slightly opened and blood oozes out, but now he doesn’t feel any pain.

‘Is it an endless confrontation?’

That scene seems to show the history of Mount Hua and the Southern Edge Sect that fought to beat each other.

The fantasy-like battle has drawn the attention of the people gathered here.

However, the dreamlike sight did not last long.

Popopok!

The one who tries to break through and the one who blocks.

The battle cannot last forever.

Chung Myung’s sword, which squeezed open Isong Baek’s defense, began to strike Isong Baek’s body.

Isong Baek didn’t scream even once and bounced off with blood spurting.

Thud!

His whole body was tattered and he plummeted to the edge of the stage.

“Oh…….”

Each spectator bit their lips and looked at him.

It’s a defeat.

It’s a crushing defeat.

But who here dares to criticize and mock Isong Baek?

The fierce match is finally over. And they are ready to give a thunderous round of applause to Isong Baek who has lost.

But only one person.

Tok.

Chung Myung did not lower the sword against Isong Baek, who fell to the ground.

The buzz of voices spread like wildfire here and there.

“Don’t tell me… is he going to do more?”

“Isn’t that too cruel? To the person who unconscious…….”

It was then.

Flinch.

Isong Baek’s fingers, which were lying on the floor like he were dead, gave a small twitch. Then he wobbles and presses the ground down.

“…….”

Everyone held their breath.

Isong Baek, who was raising his body with his hands, fell weakly to the ground again. The broken arm couldn’t support his body.

There were even those who closed their eyes tightly at the dreadful sight.

‘Stop him.’

‘Please somebody stop him.’

But Isong Baek didn’t stop.

With the other arm that hasn’t been broken yet, he pushes the ground and pulls his limp leg up to get up. He stumbled and stumbled again.

A silence that could make the sound of a needle falling be heard falls on Shaolin.

Drip. Drip.

The sound of blood dripping from Isong Baek’s body resonates clearly.

Isong Baek, who managed to stand, stared blankly at Chung Myung with unfocused eyes.

Then, he grabs the sword with his broken hand, spreads his legs shoulder-width apart, and points the sword forward.

Sangdanse. (Superior Guard Position Offense (상 단 세))

The beginning of Mount Hua’s sword, and the beginning of the Southern Edge Sect sword.

Everything goes round and round and comes back to the beginning.

It’s like there’s no consciousness already. But Isong Baek finally pulled himself up. His will, choosing the path of endless asceticism as a swordsman does not allow him to fall.

Chung Myung looked at such him and nodded.

And he opened his mouth with the utmost courtesy he could contain.

“Mount Hua’s disciple, Chung Myung, asks Isong Baek of Southern Edge Sect for a spar.”

“…….”

The answer was not heard.

But it doesn’t matter.

Chung Myung lowers his sword. The sword, which was directed towards the ground, rotates in a perfect circle and points towards the sky.

Sangdanse.

Chung Myung’s sword, which took the same posture as Isong Baek, soared high.

A single word.

The best sword he could make right now fell towards Isong Baek’s head.

Paaang.

The air above the sparring stage became a typhoon and pushed out in all directions with a piercing sound.

“…….”

The sword stopped right in front of Isong Baek’s forehead.

Chung Myung retrieved the sword, put it on his waist, and looked at Isong Baek.

Isong Baek’s unfocused eyes, who had lost consciousness while standing, were still staring at him.

‘Maybe you would walk a harder path than I do.’

But…….

Chung Myung gave a polite greeting to Isong Baek. And he said.

“I have learned well.”

Did he hear that even though he was unconscious?

Isong Baek’s body begins to collapse slowly.

Chung Myung reached out, embraced, and supported him.

“You were great.”

His hand tapped Isong Baek on the back.

‘Here.’

Southern Edge Sect’s soul is still alive.

Still.