Chapter 939: Did You Perhaps Have Expectations (Part 4)

"...."

Baek Cheon's face twisted slightly.

Let's be honest. Yes, let's be honest.

He fully understood that getting involved in the Yangtze River mission could lead to entanglements with the Shaolin sect. Baek Cheon was still relatively young, but if you considered his experience, he was now at a level where he could chew up and spit out most first-generation disciples of various sects.

It was understandable that he'd foam at the mouth and make a fuss as soon as he heard the word "Yangtze River" from that cheeky Chung Myung.

However, it didn't mean that Baek Cheon didn't want to go to the Yangtze River. Although he, as a disciple of Mount Hua, didn't want to get involved in the Yangtze River's affairs, Baek Cheon, as a swordsman, wanted to rush to the Yangtze River right away.

Why, you ask?

'I want to see how far my training has taken me.'

Over the past three years, Baek Cheon and the other disciples of Mount Hua had endured a literal living hell. Mount Hua's training had always been intense, to the point where other sects would say, 'Are those guys insane?' when they heard about it. But that crazed brat who had set the foundation for this intense training took his skills to another level and beat them mercilessly. What was the result of three years of such training?

Just thinking about that time made their bodies tremble, their jaws ache, and their eyes well up with tears.

So, shouldn't they confirm it? Wouldn't they want to strike the heads of those evil men who subjected them to this hellish training with their plum blossom swords and shout, 'I've prepared for you!'?

It's not just Baek Cheon's desire; it's probably the sentiment of all the disciples of Mount Hua. The desire to repay their tears with tears of blood for three years of hellish training.

So, honestly speaking, Baek Cheon was somewhat pleased.

Whatever the reason, if he went to the Yangtze River, he would somehow get involved with the Evil sect, and then he could return all the suffering they had received.

But... what welcomed Baek Cheon, who had come down from Mount Hua with an excited heart, wasn't a glimpse of his future as a mighty swordsman, but a past he didn't want to recall.

"Uh..."

Baek Cheon hesitated, and with a slightly trembling voice, he opened his mouth.

"Chung Myung?"

"Yeah?"

"...What's going on here?"

Chung Myung snorted.

"This young bastard has dementia. Can't you recognize me when you see me?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"

"Why are you asking?"

"This here!"

Baek Cheon's voice became agitated. His trembling finger pointed to the dozens of carts lined up at the beginning of the gate and the grinning Hwang Jongui in front of those carriages.

Hwang Jongui greeted Baek Cheon warmly, unaware of his mood. "Fortunately, it seems like we're not too late, Dojang."

Chung Myung reflected on his words and shook his hand firmly. "Oh, you've really worked hard."

"It's Dojang's request, so it's only natural for me to do it. As you requested, I reinforced the carriages this time. This should be able to withstand even the strikes of the Mount Hua disciples."

"Haha! I know the quality of the Eunha Guild carts the best. You can trust it!"

"Haha. As you can see, I've made the carriages larger to carry more goods and paid more attention to the passenger compartment so that people can ride in it. Also, I've increased the weight more than twice compared to before."

At that moment, Jo Gol raised his hand quickly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but..."

"Go ahead, Jo Gol Dojang."

"Usually, shouldn't you boast about reducing the weight by half..."

"Normally, yes, but this was Chung Myung Dojang's request, so I did my best."

Jo Gol's face lost color in an instant.

Jo Gol's expression lost all its energy, and he turned to Chung Myung. Chung Myung asked with an annoyed tone, "Why? What's the matter?"

"You...dog."

Chung Myung just looked back at the Five Swords and smirked in response.

His expression looked so wicked that even the Mount Hua disciples who didn't understand the situation were taken aback for a moment.

"Oh my, our fine brothers."

"..."

"Did you perhaps have expectations that you would go to the Yangtze River and fight with your swords, showing off your heroics against the Evil Sect?"

Chung Myung chuckled as he observed the flustered Mount Hua disciples.

"Wake up, you idiots! Haven't I told you? We're not fighting! Why are we going there? Yun Jong sahyung!"

"We're going to save the civilians."

"More accurately, we're going to move those people, move them! Do you know what the world calls that?"

"What is it...?"

"Transport! It's called transport, transport!"

Chung Myung snorted.

"Transport means Mount Hua! And Mount Hua means transport!"

"When did this lunatic..."

"It was always like that!"

The moment that statement ended, all of Mount Hua's disciples realized deeply.

"This guy is really going to move luggage."

It was as if someone had poured cold water from a bucket onto the small ember that had been smoldering in their hearts.

But in that moment, Baek Cheon realized something and his eyes widened.

"Wait a moment."

"Yes?"

"When did you tell them to prepare these wagons?"

"That was when we went to Eunha Guild."

"So, you knew from back then that this was going to happen...?"

"What kind of nonsense is that?"

"Huh?"

Chung Myung chuckled.

"Recently, everyone's gotten healthier, and our reputation has improved, so I thought the wagon could be a bit bigger than before."

"..."

"So, while making it, I thought we could make a lot more of them since we had the opportunity. I didn't know it would turn out like this..."

"..."

In other words, from the moment he unsealed Bongmun, wasn't he calculating how to use them economically?

"Devil."

"A bastard that won't even bark."

"He really chose the wrong sect. If he'd gone to the Evil Sect, he could have taken the skin off the others even if he had to do it several times."

"It's noisy."

Chung Myung waved his hand as if chasing away a swarm of flies.

"Stop having useless dreams and grab the wagons! From now on, we are cows, not swordsmen! Our goal is to run to the Yangtze River at top speed and transport every civilian to a safe place without leaving anyone behind!"

"..."

"Any questions?"

"...."

A common darkness entered the hearts of the Mount Hua disciples who had been swelling toward the procession.

"Hmm, these wagons are nice."

"Where... We should check to see if there are any major problems even when the commoners get on them."

"That's right, Sect Leader. It's an important task."

And the darkness deepened even further when the Mount Hua disciples, who had tried to sneak onto the wagons with great care, followed behind, coughing.

Hyun Jong chuckled.

"What Chung Myung said is true. Achieving unity is not only about fighting with swords. Unity means providing people with what they need the most. Do you think they would want us to fight for them? Or do we want to help them?"

It was a good saying. It would have sounded even better if he hadn't been one of those riding in the wagon. Sect Leader. You seem quite comfortable, right?

"We don't have time! Hurry and stick close."

The disciples of Mount Hua, like cattle being led to the slaughterhouse, walked toward the wagons with faces that looked pathetic. At that moment, the familiar feeling they felt in their fingertips made them even sadder.

Ah... even after three years, I still can't let go of this.

"Hahaha."

Hwang Jongui, who had been watching from the side, laughed as if he were satisfied.

"Originally, the handle should be a bit bigger, but since it's a wagon used by the people of Mount Hua, I paid special attention to it. I made the thickness of the handle the same as the handles of the swords you use, so you shouldn't have any discomfort when using it."

... I'm really grateful for that.

You're quite considerate, Danju.

"Let's go!"

Chung Myung jumped onto the front wagon.

"All right, we're going to the Yangtze River in one go! Run, Dongryong!"

"Fuck you!"

"Let's go!"

As soon as Chung Myung finished speaking, the wagons, which were large and heavy enough to make their weight inconspicuous, shot forward at an astonishing speed.

"The ones who arrive last will be used as wheels instead, so run to death!"

Curses and shouts, as if they were groaning in pain, resounded loudly. With the wagons picking up speed, they quickly disappeared into the distance.

"Hahahaha."

Hwang Jongui, who was left behind, burst into laughter.

"May you have good fortune."

Hwang Jongui made a deep bow towards a distant cloud of dust.

* * *

Kaaaaaaaaah

Nangong Dowi's hands were trembling. His mouth was dry, and his whole body felt heavy as if soaked in water. But he wasn't given any time to rest.

"Ta-aa-aat!"

He jumped up and swatted away an incoming cannonball.

Boom!

The collision of the cannonball and the sword created a massive explosion.

"Ugh."

Such cannonballs were nothing if he had been in his full state; he could have easily swatted them away like feathers. However, they felt incredibly heavy and burdensome to him now.

"What a pain..."

He had a better understanding now of what it meant to be dehydrated to death. They were in no rush. They hadn't poured enough firepower to make them stand out, nor had they landed more troops than necessary. They merely attacked the riverside just enough that they didn't have time to sit down.

In other words, these were very lukewarm attacks. But after several days of continuous bombardment, all he could think of was a desire to face them head-on, even if it meant suffering a complete defeat.

Gradually but surely, they were gnawing at the Namgung Sect.

Boom!

"Aa-a-a-a-ack!"

From somewhere, someone's scream resounded. If it had been just two days ago, everyone would have turned their heads in alarm, shouting and cursing in anger. But not anymore. They were accustomed to it now.

Shells that might have been easily avoided under normal circumstances hit them occasionally, even though they had lost their concentration. Namgung Dowi looked back with a twisted face.

The expression on Changgung Sword Sect's face was not one of despair or anger.

It was a lack of strength.

The face that had once been filled with energy and enthusiasm was gone. Instead, it resembled the faces of those who had been forcibly taken to distant foreign countries and had to row.

He no longer had the energy. Namgung Hwang said to himself, "We should have attacked."

It wasn't that he couldn't understand Namgung Hwang's decision, but he didn't think that understanding it meant it was the best option.

'What should I have done? And what should I do now?'

As he thought, another shell approached the island. Namgung Dowi noticed the shell that flew close, but before he could react, the powerless appearance of the Changgung member came into view. It was only when he saw the members' face, which turned pale blue at the sight of the shell, that he noticed the approaching shell.

He moved without thinking.

Screams filled the air!

Nangong Dowi leaped forward like a flash of light and smashed the shell with his sword. As he swung the sword frantically, the palm of his hand, which he had failed to utilize properly due to the desperate swing, spewed red blood.

"S-Sogaju..."

Chi!

Nangong Dowi gripped the shoulder of the Changgung member, who had barely escaped the crisis.

The Changgung member, who had expected curses to burst out, closed his eyes tightly.

"Hold on a little longer!"

But what came out of Namgung Dowi's mouth was not criticism but encouragement. His voice had a distinct resonance, different from Namgung Hwang's, and it resounded throughout the entire island.

"Bear this with your teeth clenched! We are the Namgung Sect! We can fight to the death, but we will not allow ourselves to give up!"

"Sogaju!"

"Opportunities will come! If they don't, I will create them! I won't leave you here to die without swinging a sword even once! So..."

Namgung Dowi shouted with boiling blood in his voice.

"Trust me and hold on a little longer! Until the moment we repay them for this pain and humiliation and then some!"

The eyes of the Namgung Sect disciples, which had been clouded, gradually regained their light. They nodded in approval. Then they glared at the ships surrounding the island with bloodshot eyes.

Finally, Namgung Dowi, his lips trembling to the point of blood showing through, stared at the Black Dragon Ship on the Yangtze River.

He maintained a dignified appearance.

But his hand, hidden desperately within his sleeve, trembled.

'Anyone, please... Please, quickly.'

Before this feeble flame, barely revived, went out...