Chapter 1297
Is there a place to rest on this land? (2)
“Arghhh! You scum of the Just faction!”
“Dieeee!”
With eyes rolled back, the figure lunged forward, only to meet a lightning-fast sword strike aimed at his throat.
Swish!
The powerful strike left nothing but a faint whisper in its wake. It seemed almost trivial, the way flesh and bone were sliced apart, as if the separation of neck and body was of little consequence.
Swish, swish!
Eventually, like black water flowing forth, the sword cleaved through the tendons of the opponent’s elbow and wrist. Even with the one’s heart pierced, a person could still move for a brief moment.
But who cared about pierced heart when death loomed from a blade to the back?
There was no time for thought.
Instinct, honed through layers of experience, guided the sword effortlessly, from its tip to the wielder’s fingertips.
Crack!
Spotting another enemy charging with malice, Chung Myung reacted before the opponent, moving swiftly.
Clang!
For the first time, Chung Myung hesitated, his sword stuck in the enemy’s throat.
“K…kuh…krk…”
The enemy’s eyes, half-dimmed and soon to be completely lifeless, met Chung Myung’s gaze, filled with tremulous fear.
As if sensing his imminent demise.
The eyes, once filled with fear, quickly turned to resentment. Chung Myung tightened his grip on the sword embedded in the enemy’s neck.
Clang!
The sword scraped against bone as it was pulled out, blood spurting forth like a fountain.
“Ugh…”
The enemy, convulsing, collapsed onto the ground, his face meeting the earth with no strength left. His eyes, once filled with turmoil, now held nothing. Clouded and empty, they reflected the emptiness of the world.
Chung Myung, indifferent to the fallen foe, glanced down at his sword.
암향매화검(暗香梅花劒) Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword*.
Its blade was not dulled. It was merely coated in oil from the enemy’s body, blunting its edge. With each strike, the accumulated oil layered upon it, much like the resentment piled upon him.
In the past, he might have cleaned the sword before it became this tarnished, but it seemed his past senses had not fully returned.
Crack!
The internal power that was pushed into the Dark Plum Sword blew away the oil on the sword at once. Chung Myung slowly lifted his head, surveying the area ahead.
The forest spread out before him appeared ordinary, yet it was no longer the familiar woodland people once knew. The refreshing scent of grass was now masked by the thick stench of blood, and the once quiet earth, where the chirping of insects should have been heard intermittently, now echoed with the cacophony of agonizing screams.
In this vile space, filled with the biting sensation of flesh and the pungent odor of blood, Chung Myung couldn’t help but feel an unavoidable sense of familiarity.
The realization suddenly filled him with disgust.
‘How much further must I go?’
The heaviness that started in his hands spread throughout his entire body. Perhaps it was due to his depleted inner strength, but the feeling of the world gradually blurring felt all too familiar yet forever distant.
Chung Myung gritted his teeth.
Demonic Cult was akin to an elite group of Sapas. Each member’s strength far surpassed that of an ordinary warrior in the Central Plains. Among these elite, the power of the Bishops, who were handpicked from among them, shook the heavens and made the earth cry.
However, this battle was different from the ones he had experienced with Demonic Cult in the past.
No matter how many he struck down, there seemed to be no end to them.
Each one was never truly strong. In fact, from Chung Myung’s perspective, they were so weak that they could be easily disregarded. If it weren’t for the situation with Haenam, if it were a scenario where only Cheonumaeng could act alone, they would have already broke through more than half of this formation.
Yet these insignificant pests charged at him like a swarm of mosquitoes.
They didn’t charge recklessly like demonic cultists, nor did they possess the madness or determination to sacrifice themselves for their beliefs.
Despite trembling in fear, and despite not knowing what to do in their terror, they ultimately resorted to malice as they rushed forward. Dispatching such individuals felt dirtier than anything he had experienced before.
“Huuuu…”
Chung Myung let out a deep breath and then he looked back.
The enemies, still holding their swords, charged at Haenam. Unlike before, Haenam’s disciples now stood their ground, demonstrating a newfound understanding of what battlefield truly was and what it meant to fight for one’s life.
“Arghhhhh!”
As a disciple of Haenam drove his sword into an enemy’s chest, warm blood splattered across his face. Amidst the crimson-soaked visage, distorted eyes and tightly clenched teeth were the only discernible features.
The pursuit of justice, and perhaps even ambition.
Were the things they sought to obtain on this land truly aligned with those they fought alongside? Did they know what they looked like?
War was a cruel abyss, swallowing everything bright that humanity held within it, pushing it deep into the darkness where human hands could scarcely reach.
And what remained afterward were emotions rooted in the most primal instincts of survival and hatred.
“Dieeeee!”
Even as bodies lay lifeless, pierced through with swords, more blades relentlessly thrust into them one after another.
There was no room for calmly assessing the enemy’s condition. Even if their heads were severed, those swords would still plunge into the lifeless bodies with the same relentless force.
It was an expression of hatred or fear.
The things that once kept humanity from being mere beasts slowly sank deeper.
Humans, who once debated righteousness, now fought like beasts driven by malice. Those who willingly offered their food to the needy now plunged swords into the corpses of the fallen and cried out.
This was the battlefield as Chung Myung knew it.
“Aargh!”
“Sahyeong!”
Everyone has their own sense of justice, their own perspective. But here, all of it is meaningless.
As enemy blades pierce through one’s body and one’s comrades bleed at the hands of the enemy, reason loses its grip.
“These damn bastards! I’ll kill them all!”
Only malice remains, expanding endlessly.
Without driving a sword into the enemy’s heart, there is no release… No, even driving a sword in does not release the malice.
“Arghhh!”
One of Haenam’s disciples charged forward with a scream, thrusting his beloved sword into the enemy’s throat with all his might.
The sword pierced through the neck, blood-soaked, and jutted out crookedly.
No one could easily become accustomed to murder, nor should they. But just moments ago, as he committed murder with his own hands, there was no hint of remorse or guilt in his eyes.
Instead, they pushed the swords in harder, advancing with malice driving them forward.
“Sohyeop!”
Yoon Jong reached out, grabbing the man’s shoulder.
“Let go of this!”
As the man tried to push him away and move forward, Yoon Jong tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder with all his strength. In the moment of overwhelming pain, the man turned to Yoon Jong with eyes filled with murderous intent.
Yoon Jong, facing the man head-on, remained steadfast and shouted,
“Calm yourself! Excitement leads to death!”
“Ugh…”
The man bit his lip and turned his gaze away. He saw the figure of the fallen Sahyeong bleeding on the ground. Only then did his hands begin to tremble uncontrollably.
“S-Sahyeong! Are you alright?”
“Ugh…”
“Physician! Physician, over here! Someone is dying here! Right here!”
“Calm down! They won’t die from this!”
“But Haewon died like that! You said they wouldn’t die!”
The outburst silenced those nearby.
“How can I believe… How can I believe those words…”
Clutching the fallen Sahyeong’s clothes, the sobbing man cried out again in a fit of despair.
“Physician! Physician…!”
“I’m already here, stop calling for me!”
Arriving drenched in blood, Tang Soso immediately assessed the situation and poured hemostatic powder into the gaping wounds, her movements calm yet swift.
“Here! Hold onto this tightly. We need to stop the bleeding! Squeeze it tightly so not a drop of blood escapes!”
“Yes!”
Tang Soso clenched her teeth.
‘He lost too much blood.’
Tears didn’t come. No, more accurately, they no longer came. The tears that needed to fall had already fallen.
She wasn’t accustomed to death either. She had seen the deaths of patients visiting the clinic in the past. But the rapid decline of someone who had been perfectly healthy, and experiencing the helplessness of not being able to save them, was a first for her as a physician.
Before she could even become accustomed to it, too many deaths came in a short period of time. Of course, in a situation where everyone, from the patients to those around them, were desperately looking to her alone, the burden was inevitably heavier.
It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t prevent these deaths. Tang Soso knew that too. But just understanding it intellectually didn’t mean she could accept it wholeheartedly.
To Tang Soso… all these deaths seemed to be solely her fault.
“Squeeze it tightly, damn it!”
“Yes! Yes! I understand!”
She gritted her teeth and applied a dressing to the wound. Normally, she would have stitched it up, but there was no time for that now. If it was a specially made dressing from the clinic, it would prevent the wound from reopening for a while.
For now, she had to stop the bleeding, and detailed treatment would have to wait.
“That’s enough! Move inward!”
“Yes!”
The people around finally breathed a sigh of relief as they lifted the fallen individual.
‘Not good…’
Tang Soso’s face darkened abruptly.
While the life was barely saved, another casualty added to the count. With each incapacitated person, the movement speed could only decrease. As the number of fighters decreased and the need to transport the wounded increased, it became an inevitable cycle.
While the death of one person simply meant the loss of one unit of strength, the occurrence of such casualties inevitably consumed more manpower.
It was a vicious cycle. The slower the breakthrough due to casualties, the more people would block the way ahead.
Moreover, during all this, the main force of Maninbang was steadily closing in.
“Soso, are you alright…”
Slap!
“What, what’s going on!”
Jo Geol, who had been concerned, suddenly panicked as he looked at Tang Soso. A single trickle of blood ran down her burst lip.
What truly startled Jo Geol was the fact that it was Tang Soso herself who had burst her lip by striking her own cheek.
“Why… why did you do that?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“What…?”
“It’s fine. I just lost my head for a moment, thinking about all those things. Forget about it.”
Jo Geol refrained from asking what she meant by “all those things.” Given Tang Soso’s expression, anyone would have been tongue-tied.
Besides, now wasn’t the time to casually inquire about anything.
“We should go.”
“Yeah, we should.”
Jo Geol nodded, gritting his teeth.
How many had he struck down?
How many had he killed?
And when would this road ever end?
With battles raging incessantly, his nerves had become razor-sharp, piercing even his brain.
In that moment, Jo Geol jolted as he sensed something approaching from the front. Suddenly, he shouted out loud.
“They’re coming! It’s not going to be easy!”
Before his words could even finish, a group clad in red surged out of the densely packed bushes like wolves pouncing on a deer.
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