Chapter 137
The man, dragging his dying body, had to stop over and over again as he climbed the mountain.
Using his sword as a crutch, he caught his breath, ascending at a painfully slow pace.
By the time the two of them reached the summit, the sun had already set, and only the moonlight remained to light the dark night.
The man stood for a long while before the collapsing front gate of the Mount Hua Sect, staring at the spot where the name plaque had once hung.
His shoulders rose and fell—whether from labored breathing or from holding back sobs, it was impossible to tell.
The worn-out hinges let out a harsh screech that echoed through the mountain.
The man stepped through the gate, and Seolhwa followed silently behind.
Even in its half-broken state, the gate still bore the gruesome scars of that day when Mount Hua had crumbled into ruin.
Whoooosh—
A chill night wind blew between the two of them, as if cutting through the space they shared.
Seolhwa stood before the gate, gazing at the hollow remnants of Mount Hua, left behind in the wake of death.
Atop the platform where the Sect Leader once stood, spirit tablets now rested—memorials for him and the elders.