“Uh....”
Kwak Hee entered the Dining Hall with a deathly pale face. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say that he barely managed to drag his body inside without collapsing.
Stumbling, he soon collapsed and sank onto the chair.
He felt like dying.
It was a phrase he’d used lightly before. But Kwak Hee couldn’t bring himself to say it now, finally realizing the weight those words held.
Because he felt like dying right now?
No.
Because the person he sees in front of him looked as though they could die.
“...Sa- Sasuk. Are you... alright?”
Kwak Hee looked at Baek Cheon with trembling eyes.
Baek Cheon lifted his head slowly. The moment he saw that face, Kwak Hee instinctively averted his eyes.
‘My goodness...’
It was truly horrendous.
If someone had left Mount Hua for about ten days and returned, they would never have recognized that this person was Baek Cheon.
Baek Cheon’s face, which used to be full and lively, was nowhere to be found.
His cheeks were sunken, highlighting his cheekbones, and his eyes were so deeply set that they seemed to merge with his neck.
The bright skin that always seemed to glow was now as dark and rough as pine bark, and the eyes, once ever bright, now had become dull and reminiscent of rotten fish.
‘He doesn’t even look human.’
Judging solely by his appearance, it seemed as if someone had dug up a corpse and sat it there.
“...Aigo. Sasuk....”
“Aigo....”
Those who saw him couldn’t bring themselves to speak.
But no one asks why Baek Cheon became like this. The reason was already evident on his body.
Beneath the sunken face, the neck still retains its white color.
There were countless red lines drawn here and there.
‘Inhumane bastard.’
Kwak Hee trembled as he looked at the scars.
After that day, Chung Myung faced Baek Cheon when he was bored. And every time he landed a strike, he left a scar on Baek Cheon’s neck.
Kwak Hee didn’t understand at first. Baek Cheon’s condition, who has no major injuries at the end of each sparring session, is visibly deteriorating.
But Kwak Hee quickly came to understand why.
It was when Chung Myung, who knocked out all the Five Swords, gathered the third-class disciples and started sparring.
Kwak Hee didn’t know until then.
Chung Myung’s sword, flying toward his neck without a moment’s hesitation, clearly contained the intent to kill him.
When such a sword touched his neck coldly, Kwak Hee distinctly felt death. A terrible sensation as if his consciousness was severed and his whole body was plummeting into an abyss.
– You just died once.
When he came to his senses, the sword he had clearly been holding was lying on the ground, and Gwak Hwe was trembling uncontrollably, seated on the ground.
He was tormented by nightmares for the next three days.
Every time he closed his eyes, he dreamt of a sword flying at him, cutting his neck. He would wake up screaming, and when he fell back asleep, the dream would resume.
Only then did Kwak Hee truly understand.
How deep and heavy the word ‘death,’ which he had uttered so carelessly, actually was.
‘I’m like this with just one spar.’
What could he say about Baek Cheon, who has to go through it dozens of times a day?
Thud.
“Sa- Sago!”
“Are you okay, Sago?”
“No, Chung Myung, this guy... No matter how much....”
Yoo Iseol, who had been walking unsteadily, collapsed beside Baek Cheon. Her appearance was no different from Baek Cheon’s. No one would imagine her usual self looking at her now.
If Baek Cheon’s face had turned dark as death, Yoo Iseol’s face is as white as a corpse, devoid of any blood.
Then Yoo Iseol opened her dry lips and muttered something.
“Yes, Sago?”
“....That”
“Yes?”
After swallowing dry saliva several times, Yoo Iseol finally managed to open her mouth.
“Outside... That...Gol... Yoon Jong.”
“...Yes. I will bring them right now.”
It seems that she’s telling him to bring Yoon Jong and Jo-Gol who are lying around in the training field. Although everyone was in a dire state, some of them moved their feet to somehow fetch the two.
But then.
Squeak.
The door opened abruptly, and one person slowly walked in carrying two others.
“Hiiiiiek.”
“M- Monk!”
Hye Yeon.
They somehow shoved the gruel down their throats and stood up.
“Ugh...”
“This is killing me, really...”
Gripping their swords, they staggered out.
“N- No. Sahyung!”
“Hey, man! Has everyone gone crazy?”
Jo-Gol turned his head with a deathly expression.
“...Didn’t you hear what Sasuk were.... saying?”
“....”
“Sword training... It must be done separately.”
The disciples opened their mouths wide.
“...If Sasuk is enduring something even more difficult.... How can I whine? Damn it.”
“Let’s go.”
“...Yes.”
When even Yoon Jong and Jo-Gol stumbled outside, a chilling silence settled over the Dining Hall.
“...They’re really not in their right minds.”
“Can they even endure like that?”
From the gap of the open door, the sound of sword swings from the training ground could be heard.
The sun had set a long time ago...
When everyone was too stunned to speak, Kwak Hee opened his mouth.
“But where is Chung Myung?”
“...Chung Myung is not finished yet.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Baek Sang sighs and says.
“After our training is over, he trains with Sasuks, and after that, he even trains with the Elders.”
“....”
“He probably has his own personal training session after that.”
Kwak Hee’s vision momentarily became distant.
They take turns sparring with Chung Myung. But if what Baek Sang said is true, then Chung Myung fights non-stop from dawn till dawn again, and on top of that, he has his personal training?
“...Is that even humanly possible?”
“When has he ever been human?”
Baek Sang clenched his teeth with an annoyed face.
Then, he grabbed the bowl next to him and gulped it down in one go.
“Ah, damn it. It’s grossly bland. Tell them to add more salt.”
“Sasuk?”
Baek Sang picked up his sword and headed outside.
“Let’s go.”
“...You, you will collapse, Sasuk.”
“What does it matter?”
Baek Sang spoke disdainfully.
“We don’t have anything else to do at the Finance Hall anyway. We’ve sealed the gate, haven’t we?”
“...Yes?”
“Just because you collapse doesn’t make a big difference. Then what’s the big deal if you do?”
“....”
“We can’t win with skills anyway.”
Baek Sang scanned all the disciples in the Dining Hall as he spoke.
“Then at least don’t lose when it comes to grit. Damn it. Do I lack skill, or do I lack grit?”
His words seemed to light a spark. A fierce resolve filled the eyes of Mount Hua’s disciples once again.
As if on cue, everyone picked up the bowls of porridge in front of them and gulped it down.
Kung!
They slammed down the porridge bowls and staggered to their feet, one after the other.
“Who said we were losing?”
“We have a lot to say, too. Just because Chung Myung usually hangs out with Sasuk and Sahyung doesn’t mean things wouldn’t be different if I were in their place.”
“Once Mount Hua Five Swords doesn’t mean Mount Hua Five Swords forever. We’ll decide again after the Bongmun is over!”
Everyone in the Dining Hall rushed outside.
Mount Hua’s training field is not brightly lit as usual because they do not receive guests.
The sound of sword swings began to be heard continuously in the dark training field.
A practice that is not watched or forced by anyone.
The first step in overcoming one’s own limits and surpassing oneself is to build up resolve.
A strong resolve began to emanate from the swords’ edges of Mount Hua’s disciples.
Perhaps.
A strong resolve that may last a lifetime began to form at the edges of their swords.