Chapter 1598: It's Not Even Funny (Part 3)

Chung Myung forced down the rising feeling of nausea, anger, and sadness, and looked ahead resolutely.

"Ah... Mi... Ta... Bha..."

Hye Yeon chanted with a trembling voice that couldn't contain his emotions.

Each and every syllable pierced Chung Myung's ears.

Even the typically composed Yoo Iseol gripped her sword so tightly the clenching sound could be heard.

This tragedy, whose fault was it?

"Chung Myung..."

Hyun Jong sighed and placed his hand on Chung Myung's shoulder. However, he hesitated to say more and ended up just shaking his head.

What more could he say in situation where it was difficult even for himself to calm his heart?

"The air is chilly."

Hyun Jong finally uttered a somewhat irrelevant remark.

Chung Myung glanced up at the sky. It was still before sunrise, and the dawn air chilled their faces.

To the point that he shivered.

At that moment, Yoo Iseol walked forward silently.

Swish.

The sword that had been sleeping inside its scabbard was drawn out, cutting through the dawn air.

She quietly kneeled and firmly planted the sword into the ground.

Thunk.

With a sound as sharp as beheading an enemy, the sword dug into the ground. She held the hilt with one hand and silently dug the soil with the other, holding onto the blade.

"..."

Chung Myung couldn't say anything and just watched the scene. Hye Yeon, who had been expressing his uncontrollable anger and sadness through prayers, also walked forward, knelt, and began digging the soil with his hands.

Thud. Thud.

Without notice, the approaching Lee Songbaek also joined them, silently digging the ground with his sword to create graves for those who had died.

Although they each wore different clothes, they were building graves for the dead with the same hands.

People who were once thought to never stand in one place.

Chung Myung, who had let out a small laugh, looked up at the sky again. The world's sorrow seemed not to have reached up there yet.

Cold. It must be even more so for them.

Just as Chung Myung was about to exhale a short breath and take a heavy step, a faint groan came from behind.

"Ah..."

Turning his gaze towards the sound, Chung Myung saw that Beopjeong, who had come somewhat expectedly, was trembling.

At that moment, everyone's eyes turned towards him.

There were truly various emotions. Resentment, hatred, sympathy, or even a complex mix of emotions unable to decide how to look at him.

In the midst of this, Beopjeong, with a trembling hand, tried to pray somehow.

"Ah... Mi..."

Chung Myung's teeth gritted harshly.

"...Be quiet."

"...Ta..."

"Shut up!"

His wrinkled hand trembled, and his complexion was pallid. Still unable to fully control his body, he stumbled forward, unable to open his eyes properly.

The majestic appearance of Shaolin's sect leader was now nowhere to be found.

There was no longer the appearance of a Buddhist who devoutly followed the Buddha's will, nor the figure of a leader who went beyond Shaolin and guided the powerful force known as the Ten Great Sects.

What remained here was just a wretched human groaning under the weight of his sins.

And even to Chung Myung, that sight was... yes, even that sight was simply disgusting.

Chung Myung approached Beopjeong.

"Chung Myung..."

Hyun Jong tried to hold him back by grabbing his shoulder, but Chung Myung pushed his hand away and continued walking.

Thud. Thud.

Each chilly step caused Beopjeong's body to tremble faintly.

Finally, Chung Myung reached right in front of Beopjeong and coldly glared at him with a face colder than ice.

At that moment, no one knew what Chung Myung was thinking.

With a face that seemed to carry the burden of all the world's suffering, what thoughts were swirling inside that expression?

Thud.

Chung Myung grabbed Beopjeong's collar. Then, in one swift motion, he forcefully pulled it, turning Beopjeong's face towards the gruesome scene.

"Look."

Beopjeong's gaze was forcibly fixed.

"Don't close your eyes, look."

At the growl, Beopjeong forcibly raised his nearly closed eyes. Trembling and reluctantly opened, his eyes eventually closed tightly again.

"Ah, Ami... Amitabhul..."

Tears flowed uncontrollably from Beopjeong's eyes without any restraint.

"Is the Buddha here?"

A chilly voice penetrated Beopjeong's ears.

"Don't look for the Buddha. This is your doing. Not the Buddha!"

Strength drained from Beopjeong's legs. However, Chung Myung's grip on his collar did not allow him to collapse.

"Look."

Chung Myung forcefully pushed Beopjeong's head in another direction.

"Look!"

Beopjeong's eyes were fully exposed. A crime that he could never escape, that he could never repay even with endless suffering.

Even if he were to endure endless torment, it seemed like the weight of the deep and profound karma would crush Beopjeong at any moment.

Beopjeong slumped. As if his soul had escaped.

Watching that scene, Chung Myung bit his lips.

"Is this what you wanted to achieve?"

Why repeat it?

"This?"

Faced with such a painful outcome, why repeat the same actions? What was the point of that name, that reputation? It means nothing once you're dead.

"Is this all? Just this?"

Shiiiiik.

With a dull sound, the piece of Beopjeong's clothing held in Chung Myung's grasp was finally torn off.

"Say something! Anything!"

It felt like his chest was about to burst.

If it was going to be like this, he should have done it. He should have gotten everything he wanted and laughed at those who couldn't. [...sounds like someone we know...]

If only he had... If only...

At that moment, someone grabbed Chung Myung's hand, caught in fervor. Chung Myung looked blankly at the person holding him.

Hye Yeon, whose face was soaked with tears, silently held Chung Myung's arm, which gripped Beopjeong's neck.

He slowly shook his head without uttering any persuasive words.

"...."

When Chung Myung met the eyes filled with sadness, he felt the tension in his body easing. The hand that held Beopjeong's neck lost its strength.

Thud.

Beopjeong collapsed in that spot, like someone who had lost their soul. Chung Myung, who had been gazing at the slumped Beopjeong with cold eyes, turned away.

There was nothing left of Beopjeong here. Only a shell remained. Lost in the irredeemable sins and self-blame, he had lost himself.

At this moment, whether it was empathy, camaraderie, or perhaps just disgust, Chung Myung found it hard to determine. Despite not knowing, he spoke with a cold voice.

"You had it too."

Beopjeong didn't react as if he hadn't heard, like someone who had lost their soul.

"At least... one person."

Someone who would recognize him as he was, even if he didn't gain honor, even if he didn't achieve something brilliant. Someone who would acknowledge him for who he was.

At that moment, the moon was obscured by incoming dark clouds. It felt as if the world had been engulfed in profound darkness, much like the stifling inner turmoil.

Chung Myung let out a sigh and was about to move his feet.

"Uh... "

The sound of weeping echoed from behind.

"Ugh...uh..."

It wasn't a controlled sob but a rising tide of uncontrollable crying. No matter how hard one tried to block it, it surged forth.

"Uh... uh... uheu... "

Chung Myung found the sobbing strangely familiar, as if it resembled something alien. [?]

When he turned around, Beopjeong was leaning against the ground, sobbing.

After a long and painful movement, Beopjeong's hand finally touched something. It was the pallid face of a corpse that had already gone cold.

"...Gye...

Hye Yeon personally lifted and moved Beopgye's lifeless corpse.

Now, Beopjeong's hand, trembling after a long and painful movement, finally touched something. The cold, pale face of Beopgye.

"Beop...gye. Beopgye..."

Beopjeong's back trembled. It was an endlessly pitiful and sorrowful movement.

He probably realized what Beopjeong had done.

His deep sin. But even after seeing it all, he struggled to save him until the end.

A hollow laugh escaped from Chung Myung's lips.

'Why always...'

Do people only realize what they had after it's gone?

Why don't they understand the meaning of what they already have and exert all their strength to grasp what they don't need?

Why are people so foolish?

"Uh... Uhuhuhu. Ah... Ahhhhhhh!"

A desperate cry erupted.

"Ahhhhhhh! Beopgye! Gye-ya! Ahhhhhhh!"

Even those who hated and despised Beopjeong, faced with this wailing that seemed to wrench out and burst their hearts, couldn't utter a single word. Even if they were individuals without a trace of sympathy, the sorrow was something anyone could imagine.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

Chung Myung, who had been watching Beopjeong with cold eyes, turned his head.

There was no sympathy to spare for the dead.

"Chung Myung."

Chung Myung met Hyun Jong's gaze and nodded.

"Great Sect Leader...the rites." [not sure]

"Yes."

Hyun Jong also nodded slowly.

"As always."

There was nothing the living could do for the dead. Whether they were Toaists or Buddhists, it was ultimately to comfort the remaining living. Even if they knew that, people still clung to such futile actions, hoping that even a little comfort would reach.

At that moment, as Chung Myung took feeble steps toward the bodies lying on the cold ground.

"Sajil. Great Sect Leader."

Quietly scanning the surroundings, Yoo Iseol, who approached with a hardened face, spoke.

"Sago?"

"There are many."

Chung Myung looked at Yoo Iseol with a puzzled expression, and Yoo Iseol added quietly.

"Enemy corpses."

Hyun Jong frowned. Why would someone take such a serious tone about the corpses of enemies on the battlefield? But Chung Myung's face noticeably hardened. He immediately understood the meaning implied in Yoo Iseol's words.

"...Many?"

It meant that the Ten Great Sect members who died here were stronger than expected. Or maybe...

'Are the enemies weaker than we thought?'

Is that possible? Is that the case?

In an instant, Chung Myung turned his eyes toward a certain place.

"No way...!"

Clouds flowed, and the moon revealed itself again. In that light, Chung Myung's eyes shook.

❀ ❀ ❀

"There is no pursuit, Ryeonju-nim. They have started burying the corpses."

"Hmm, is that so?"

Jang Ilso revealed a strange smile.

"Oh dear. So affectionate. Putting so much effort into mere chunks of meat. We should learn something from them, Gakmyung-ah."

It was a question that was hard to answer. Ho Gakmyung stayed silent, as expected.

He opened his mouth again, not to hear an answer but to make another comment.

"However, I must say."

"Yes?"

"If you think the war is over, wouldn't that be too naive?"

One corner of Jang Il So's mouth twisted.

"War is not about inflicting wounds. War is about digging up wounds."

His gaze turned to the east. The same direction Chung Myung was looking.

❀ ❀ ❀

"Is this...?"

A warmthless gaze filled with a cold light focused on the mountain that rose in front.

Among the famous Five Peaks in the world, the one known as Jungak (中嶽) was much more famous not for its picturesque scenery or terrain but for something else.

It was the most famous temple in the world, located north of Sosolbong Peak.

Song Mountain, where Shaolin was located.

As the dry fingers shook off a cloak covering his head. The brown cloak fell to the ground, revealing the entirely red robe underneath.

The central figure was covering even the exposed body with red bandages.

When he spoke, a mournful voice, like something flowing out of hell, emerged.

"It's Shaolin."

"Leader."

"Yes. I know. To avoid Ryeonju's nagging, we need to hurry."

As he opened his mouth, something like the color of blood flowed out of the man's eyes.

"I'm not favorable towards the idea of dealing with these leftovers...But since we've laid our hands on them, we need to finish them properly."

They began to move toward the path to Sosolbong.

"Let's go. Today, we erase Shaolin."

The scent of blood pervaded the air as the Blood Palace bared their teeth against Shaolin.