Chapter 1394: He Will Be Waiting For Us (Part 4)

ageIt was dark and damp. A musty stench clung to the air, piercing his nostrils. Yet, even that awful, intense odor felt merely dull.

It was familiar to Chung Myung.

The smell of the dead. It permeated his surroundings, as if he were already treading halfway between life and death.

It was nothing new. For some time now, this scent hadn't left him. Like the lingering scent of blood, refusing to disappear no matter how much he tried to wash it away.

"Are you still alive?"

At the questioning voice, Chung Myung turned his head slightly. Slowly nodding as he observed the one entering the cave.

"Well, human lives can be quite resilient."

Hearing those words, Chung Myung leaned against the cave wall with a grim expression and asked.

"Where are they?"

"It seems they haven't figured out where we are yet... Setting up an siege, most likely. Haven't we gone through it once or twice?"

"That's right."

Tang Bo clicked his tongue as he examined Chung Myung's condition, frowning.

"Let me see. It doesn't look good."

"Just leave it. I won't die."

"Those who are about to die always say that. Let me see your arm."

Though Chung Myung slightly frowned, Tang Bo paid no attention and forcefully grabbed his arm. A muffled groan escaped Chung Myung's lips.

"Ugh, damn it..."

"Well, looks like it hurts."

Ripping off the hem of his robes, Tang Bo's face twisted as he skillfully bandaged Chung Myung's wound. A re-opened gash from the armpit to the lower abdomen. The wound had been treated before, but fresh blood and rotten pus poured out due to the additional damage.

"Do you perhaps not understand the concept of 'treatment,' sir? Or is your head too empty to comprehend such notions? Did you drop out of school before learning Chinese characters?"

"Shut up. It stinks."

"A madman, really."

Tang Bo mumbled as he skillfully tied the threads, shaking his head in disbelief. Even though his sticky wounds were being cut through, Chung Myung remained silent.

After a moment of silence, Chung Myung asked.

"Is there any alcohol left?"

"We're short on disinfectant."

"Give me some."

"No, you crazy guy. How many times do I have to tell you? We don't have enough disinfectant."

"I get it. Give me some."

"Sigh..."

As if finding it absurd, Tang Bo looked at Chung Myung and eventually shook his head. He then pulled out a small flask from his waist and tossed it towards Chung Myung's face.

"Drink and die quickly."

Snap.

Chung Myung skillfully opened the bottle with one hand in front of his face. Downing the alcohol in one go, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cave wall. Tang Bo muttered like a sigh.

"Maybe a ghost who died from being unable to drink possessed him or something?"

"Quite the opposite. I'm drinking before becoming a ghost. Can't drink it when I'm dead."

"Ha..."

Tang Bo shook his head as if he didn't want to deal with him, then focused again on treating Chung Myung's wounds. Extracting pus, cutting away dead flesh. An average person might not be able to endure such a procedure, but someone like Chung Myung could bear it.

"I don't have a clean cloth, you damn bastard! It needs to be disinfected with alcohol."

But Chung Myung, pretending not to hear, continued to drink the alcohol incessantly. Tang Bo rolled his eyes, swallowing his curses. It was his fault for trying to talk to this person in the first place.

As Tang Bo applied the last remaining medicine to Chung Myung's wounds, he slumped down beside him.

"Give me some."

"Nothing to drink..."

"I want to drink too, so hand it over!"

Chung Myung chuckled and finally handed the bottle he was holding to Tang Bo. Tang Bo nervously grabbed the bottle and gulped down its contents.

"Be a bit more conservative."

"It'd be better for me to drink than a patient to drink."

Chung Myung chuckled with a smirk. It wasn't entirely wrong.

Tang Bo, who had put down the bottle, looked outside the cave. The Demonic Sect members were swarming like ants out there. It wouldn't be long before this place was exposed too.

"Taoist-hyung."

"What?"

"Can we make it out alive?"

"Well?"

A nonchalant response came back. Tang Bo sighed.

"So let's just let that fucking bishop go. Is it right for you to come all the way here just to rip that bastard's head off? If you die like this, you'll die a natural death, a natural death!"

"You killed the person who was supposed to kill you instead." [not sure]

"You mean you're going to die?"

"Then it can't be helped."

Tang Bo muttered incomprehensible words after silently tearing out a strand of hair. Anyone could guess that they were curses too vile to be spoken, directed at Chung Myung.

'Looks like I'm about to die...'

A strange smile appeared on Chung Myung's lips.

So what?

In this shitland where even those who died were forgotten, where everyone turned into a boiling mass of rotting corpses, adding one more corpse named Chung Myung wouldn't make much of a difference.

During the time you're alive, you do what needs to be done. Just because the cost is death doesn't mean you can't do what needs to be done.

"If you look at Taoist-hyung once in a while."

"Huh?"

"He seems like an idiot with something wrong with his head."

"..."

"No, it's nothing. I mean, is there even one person among those called absolute experts who is in their right mind?"

"Same goes for you."

For a moment, Tang Bo was briefly at a loss for words and then burst into laughter.

"That's true. If I were sane, I wouldn't be sticking around someone like you."

"It's good that you know."

Chung Myung snatched the bottle from Tang Bo's hand and drank it down. Then, he tightly closed the bottle cap.

Rising slowly, clenching and unclenching his fist, he nodded and extended the bottle he was holding to Tang Bo.

"Secure it well so it doesn't break."

"Why?"

"I'll have to finish it when I get back."

"Are you going out now?"

"If the encirclement gets stronger, it'll be difficult to break through. Let's go."

Tang Bo looked at Chung Myung with a dumbfounded expression.

Of course, Chung Myung's words weren't entirely wrong. The longer they dragged it out, the thicker and more dangerous the encirclement became. It meant that the chance of returning alive diminished.

But wasn't that something to be said after assessing a person's condition? Could Chung Myung, in his current state, break through that encirclement?

With a bit of confusion, Tang Bo chewed the inside of his mouth.

"No, hyung-nim... If we wait longer, reinforcements might come. Cheon Mun-jin..."

But there was no response. Tang Bo let out a deep sigh.

In truth, he knew. The main force wasn't in a situation to support the two of them right now. Wasn't the reason Chung Myung recklessly targeted the bishop in the first place to save the main force that was ambushed?

Sending reinforcements in a situation where it was difficult enough to deal with the current crisis would be impossible. 

"If you're done crying, get up."

"Who said anything about crying..."

Tang Bo grumbled but eventually rose to his feet. His eyes swiftly scanned Chung Myung's body again.

"Can you fight?"

"I'm probably stronger than you."

"... I assure you, Taoist-hyung, you will end up in hell."

"How surprising."

Chung Myung stepped out of the cave with determined steps.

The sword in his hand felt heavy. His swaying body had long lost control with every step he took.

The scent of death, piercing through the nose, was overpowering. Somewhere in the unfolding mountains, his pitiful figure might become part of the scene. He muttered.

"Don't give up."

"Who are you saying that to?"

Chung Myung smirked. That was the way.

Bang!

As he kicked the ground and entered the forest, figures dressed in murky clothing appeared. They immediately rushed towards him with their eyes stained a reddish tint.

Chung Myung's carelessly swung sword cleanly severed the throats of the demonic cultists.

Hot blood splattered across his face. The warmth of what was breathing just a moment ago would soon dissipate, turning cold. Like the blood that was rapidly losing heat.

"I'm coming!"

Tang Bo's venomous daggers cut through the air like a sword. Chung Myung's eyes slightly twitched as he spat out the blood from his mouth.

'Should I have taken another sip before coming out?'

The thick smell of blood lingering in his mouth cleared away the fragrance that was still left from the drink.

'When I go back, I should drink until I pass out.'

If he couldn't go back?

Well, perhaps the regret would only be for the undrunk liquor. That was all.

Pah-a-a-at!

He deflected the approaching sword. However, perhaps due to the wound, his reaction was slightly delayed, and he couldn't avoid the sword grazing his side.

Now, pushing the agonizing pain out of his consciousness, Chung Myung swung his sword. Another life was ruthlessly cut short.

'There's no such thing as a person who wants to die.'

But there were people who weren't desperate for life. Those who found living and breathing tiresome.

"Tang Bo."

"You're talking in this situation?"

Tang Bo asked, moving briskly, looking dumbfounded. As Chung Myung pierced the heart of a demonic cultist with the tip of his sword, he calmly spoke.

"Will you go back to the Tang Family after the war is over?"

"Then do you want me to go to Mount Hua? Is there anywhere else for me to go?"

Chung Myung laughed abruptly. When he heard that, he realized it was a stupid question.

Pah-a-a-at!

Then Tang Bo, who had retrieved his daggers, spoke again.

"How about going sightseeing with me?" 

"Sightseeing..."

"If you have nothing else to do, that is."

"...Not bad."

Chung Myung murmured, Tang Bo's words ringing in his ears.

It was better than facing the empty Mount Hua Sect, blaming himself for surviving, and watching the rotting verdict of death.

"Alright, stop blabbering and hold your sword properly. You have to stay alive first, whether it's sightseeing or anything else!"

"Yeah. Once we're back, let's have a drink first."

"You get it, so focus on what's ahead!"

Chung Myung laughed. Sightseeing wouldn't be bad. Spending time as a guest of the Tang Family and watching the years go by might not be so bad. Maybe going back to Mount Hua wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

Even a life lived with an empty shell might be better than rotting away and falling apart.

Chung Myung adjusted his grip on the sword.

But the thought that he should've taken another sip during this time didn't disappear.

Demonic cultists were surging towards them. Chung Myung's twisted with murderous intent.

"No matter how you look at it..."

Chung Myung, revealing his teeth, emitted a fierce murderous energy.

"I won't let myself die until I cut the neck of that Heavenly Demon bastard."

Forcefully stomping the ground, Chung Myung, the Sword Saint, advanced.

❀ ❀ ❀

His fingertips lacked strength.

His head, leaning against a tree trunk, kept tilting to the side. It felt if he became distracted even a little, he would pass out. Two eyes, peeking through blood-soaked hair, seemed fragile, as if their light might go out at any moment.

Where was this?

A burning thirst surged. It was an unbearable thirst. Amidst the overpowering lethargy that enveloped his entire body, only that thirst remained intact.

Squelch.

As he slightly opened his lips, frighteningly dry and cracked, blood oozed out.

"Alcohol..."

His head slumped backward.

He gazed at the sky brightening in the distance. Even though he glimpsed it through the dense trees, it was terribly beautiful.

"...I should've brought it with me."

Laughter spilled out as if the recently opened lips were about to be cut off.

"Over here!"

The brief peace was disrupted, and the surroundings instantly became tumultuous.

Swish.

Chung Myung reflexively gripped the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword.

"They won't give me a break. Damn bastards."

Chung Myung, laughing slyly, turned to face those rushing toward him.

'How did I make it out back then?'

He couldn't remember.

Perhaps he had experienced too many such things.

Perhaps it was because the memory was too old.

And perhaps...

Bang.

Chung Myung threw himself with all his might. Behind him, the Myriad Man members followed suit, eyes gleaming with malevolence.