Chapter 117

Chapter 117
## Chapter 117: Waves Before the Yangtze (2)

The relentless deluge that had soaked the earth for days ceased as if it had been a mere illusion. Warm rays of sunlight finally sliced through the dispersing clouds, casting a brilliant glow over the world below.

Ha Hu Gok, who had been submerged in a death-like slumber, slowly peeled his eyes open. The vigorous chirping of birds outside acted as his alarm. At that moment, Ha Hu Yeon entered the room carrying a bowl of medicinal broth. Seeing him awake, she let out a joyous shout and hurried to his side.

“Great-grandfather!”

“Lower your voice, child. My hearing hasn’t failed me yet.”

Ha Hu Gok knit his brows slightly and pushed himself into a sitting position. His expression seemed to lift; his physical frame felt unexpectedly buoyant and light.

“The storm has finally broken.”

Ha Hu Yeon moved quickly to throw open the window shutters.

“It has. The rain began to taper off before dawn and was gone completely by the time the sun rose.”

“That explains why those creatures are making such a fuss.”

Ha Hu Gok gave a soft laugh, watching the small birds dart between branches that brushed against one another in the breeze.

“Yeon-ah.”

“Yes, Great-grandfather?”

“How long was I lost to sleep?”

Ha Hu Yeon’s movements stiffened, and she wavered, unsure how to respond. Observing her hesitation, Ha Hu Gok offered a thin, knowing smile.

“The fact that you find it hard to speak tells me it was no short duration.”

“It has been… three days,” Ha Hu Yeon admitted, her face etched with lingering anxiety.

“Three full days? Ha ha! I imagine the household was in quite a state.”

Ha Hu Gok let out a robust laugh, though Ha Hu Yeon could only manage a strained, weary smile in return.

During those seventy-two hours of unconsciousness, the Ha Hu Clan had been plunged into total turmoil. It wasn’t merely concern; it was a state of pure panic. For the first two days, as he battled a soaring fever and labored breath, the clan leader and every high-ranking official had practically worn down the floorboards pacing by his bed. They had maintained a constant, suffocating vigil. Because the chamber was too small to hold them all, a crowd had gathered in the hallway outside. It was only when his fever finally subsided and his lungs cleared at daybreak that the healer declared the immediate danger had passed, allowing the family a fleeting moment to breathe and step away.

“Is there any news of the others?”

“Nothing since they moved past Gu-gang. However, given the time that has elapsed, their arrival should be imminent.”

“Imminent…”

A shadow of longing flickered in Ha Hu Gok’s eyes before he masked it. Assuming he was fretting over their safety, Ha Hu Yeon spoke up quickly.

“You are well aware of my brothers’ capabilities. There is no need for concern. They aren’t the sort of men to be deterred by a bit of bad weather.”

“Worry is not what I feel. It is more of a regret.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It is nothing.”

Ha Hu Gok dismissed the thought and moved to climb out of bed. Startled, Ha Hu Yeon lunged forward to steady him.

“Are you attempting to walk? Overexerting yourself now could lead to a relapse.”

“I have a firm grasp on my own limitations. Do not fret—simply bring me my robes.”

With the assistance of Ha Hu Yeon, Ha Hu Gok dressed and stepped out into the open air. He drew in a deep, sharp breath of the cool atmosphere, feeling it sting his lungs, and squeezed his eyes shut. When he reopened them, the look in his gaze had transformed—it was now sharp and commanding, a stark contrast to his earlier frailty.

“Grab your blade and come with me.”

Ha Hu Yeon stood frozen in surprise as Ha Hu Gok marched forward with a determined stride.

Since his return to the Ha Hu Clan from Soheung, Ha Hu Gok’s vitality had been in a steady decline. In his twilight years, having spent his remaining essence documenting his martial insights, his physical strength had withered. The clan had spared no expense, using every rare elixir in their stores to bolster his health, yet nothing seemed to work.

‘The physician said the crisis was over and he was mending. His coughing has certainly stopped. What a massive relief.’

Ha Hu Yeon thought back to the doctor’s words about surviving the dangerous peak of his illness and felt a weight lift from her heart.

However, she failed to realize one truth.

The final flare of a dying candle often shines with the most intense heat.

—

“We are closing in.”

Man Chu gestured toward a cluster of farm buildings that were rapidly growing larger on the horizon.

“Finally. It feels like we’ve actually made it,” Noe Jeon muttered, a shiver running through his frame.

“This is no time for a break. Keep the pace,” Sima Geon commanded, refusing to slow down. Even with their goal in sight, he actually increased his speed toward the Ha Hu Clan estate.

“We have been sprinting for days on end. Can’t we take a second to breathe? Look at us—we’re a wreck, and we haven’t had a wink of real sleep.”

Cheol Woo spoke up, matching Sima Geon’s stride. He wasn’t exaggerating. The unending rain had denied the group even a moment of comfort. To make matters worse, Sima Geon had driven them forward as if an invisible predator were at their heels, even abandoning Man Chu’s daily drills to save time. The forced march was so grueling that even Cheol Woo was feeling the strain. The group looked less like elite warriors and more like vagrants who had lost a brawl with the Beggar Clan. Even Neung So Hwa, usually the picture of elegance, and Jin Rim were soaked through with grime and sweat.

“There is no alternative. I have an ill omen hanging over me.”

Sima Geon would not be swayed.

“Just push through a little further. If we don’t reach them now, I fear we will live to regret it.”

“If the leader says so, that’s that. Understood,” Cheol Woo relented. He turned back and signaled Noe Jeon and Man Chu—who looked like they were on the verge of collapse—to keep their complaints to themselves.

Cheol Woo’s eyes drifted to the rear. He frowned seeing Jin Rim, who was barely staying upright while leaning heavily on Neung So Hwa. In Cheol Woo’s estimation, Jin Rim’s internal martial prowess was superior to Man Chu’s. However, in terms of raw physical endurance and movement techniques, he lagged behind. This gap had become even more apparent after Man Chu had gained a deeper understanding of the Chwi-seon-bo under Sima Geon’s tutelage.

The exhaustion was taking its toll. Unlike Man Chu, who was moving through sheer delirium, Jin Rim was practically a dead weight. His fundamental stamina had hit its limit.

‘He’ll have to find a way,’ Cheol Woo thought, trying to look away, but at that moment, Jin Rim finally lost consciousness in Neung So Hwa’s arms.

The group halted. Neung So Hwa, visibly panicked, checked his vitals. Realizing he had simply fainted from fatigue, she moved to hoist him onto her back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cheol Woo asked.

“I’m carrying him.”

“I can see that. I’m saying it’s unnecessary. He’s just spent—leave him to rest and he can catch up when he wakes.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“What?”

“My intuition tells me otherwise. If we delay, something terrible will happen.”

Cheol Woo stared at Neung So Hwa, stunned. She was echoing Sima Geon’s words almost verbatim.

“Did you two coordinate this speech?”

“What?”

“Forget it.”

Cheol Woo stepped forward, seized Jin Rim by the waist, and tossed him over his own shoulder.

“Put him down immediately!” Neung So Hwa’s eyes flashed with anger.

“I know you’re capable, but we need to move. A woman carrying an unconscious gu… uh, an unconscious man? Think of the optics. Do you want people mocking us, saying the men in this group are useless?”

“He is my comrade. Release him.”

“Stop wasting time and move. Was that talk about regret just hot air?”

“That…”

“The boss is already reaching full speed. You’re going to lose him.”

As Cheol Woo pointed out, Sima Geon was already a distant speck on the trail. Neung So Hwa looked between the disappearing leader and Jin Rim on Cheol Woo’s shoulder. She bit her lip in frustration.

“Fine. Ensure he is safe. I will remember this favor.”

“Favor? Please…”

Cheol Woo waved her off, but his voice died out. Neung So Hwa had already vanished, moving like a ghost.

“She’s truly something else,” Cheol Woo muttered, clicking his tongue as he watched her close the distance to Sima Geon in seconds. “I can’t afford to dally either. Hey, stay put…”

He started to joke with the unconscious Jin Rim, but his expression shifted.

‘This scent…’

Despite days of traveling through mud and rain, Jin Rim didn’t smell like Noe Jeon or Man Chu, who stank from yards away.

“Whatever.”

Cheol Woo let out a smirk and tore across the muddy fields like a gust of wind, unwilling to let Neung So Hwa outstrip him. Jin Rim’s hair whipped in the wind, brushing against Cheol Woo’s face, but he ignored the sensation. He didn’t even notice that his own cheeks were flushing a faint shade of red.

—

The central training grounds of the Ha Hu Clan.

The majority of the clan’s martial artists had congregated in the open. This wasn’t a celebration of the clear skies, but rather the result of a passing suggestion from someone eager to evaluate the progress of the younger generation.

The disciples gathered were organized by seniority, openly displaying the martial forms they had been perfecting. Some showed clear gaps in their training, while others displayed a mastery that far outstripped their peers. At this moment, however, the specific level of skill was secondary. What mattered was their shared identity as members of the Ha Hu Clan—brothers and sisters of the same bloodline.

“Impressive.”

Ha Hu Gok stood with his hands clasped behind his back, overlooking the entire field. He nodded his approval.

“You find their progress satisfactory?”

Ha Hu On, who had taken Ha Hu Gok’s casual interest as a command for a full assembly, asked in a low voice.

“I do. It is not perfection, but it is enough to put my mind at ease.”

“The defeat in the sparring match against that outsider seems to have sparked a fire in them. Everyone, from the initiates to the seniors, has been pushing themselves harder than ever.”

“Stale water becomes toxic. A shock to the system like that is healthy from time to time.”

“We owe a debt to the brother who brought that young man here.”

“I didn’t bring him; he merely utilized me for his own ends,” Ha Hu Gok replied with a smile. He seemed to be in high spirits, though his gaze frequently drifted toward the horizon beyond the gates.

Ha Hu On watched him, a look of sorrow crossing his features. He had noticed Ha Hu Gok turning his head toward the entrance every few minutes—it wasn’t just a coincidence.

“Are you anticipating their arrival?”

“Yes. They are taking longer than I anticipated.”

“They should be here shortly, shouldn’t they?”

“I expect so. But you understand the reality, don’t you? My remaining time is measured in moments.”

Ha Hu On remained silent. While Ha Hu Yeon was simply overjoyed that the sickness had seemingly retreated, someone of Ha Hu On’s experience recognized the true nature of this sudden recovery.

‘The final radiance before the dark.’

The last burst of energy before the flame is extinguished forever.

“Tell me, did you review the documents I sent over?”

“I did. Multiple times.”

“And your thoughts?”

“Thoughts? I still find myself trembling when I consider the implications,” Ha Hu On replied, his voice thick with reverence. The other clan elders standing nearby, keeping a respectful distance, shared his sentiment. The martial insights Ha Hu Gok had transcribed in his final days were a monumental legacy, capable of advancing the clan’s combat arts by several stages.

“That is good to hear.”

Ha Hu Gok gave a satisfied nod and began to walk slowly onto the training field. Ha Hu On followed him quietly, assuming the old master intended to give some final words of encouragement to the younger generation before his life reached its end.

As Ha Hu Gok entered the field, the warriors immediately halted their drills, sheathed their weapons, and stepped back in a show of respect. He stopped in front of a breathless Ha Hu Yeon and clicked his tongue.

“You stubborn child, how many times must I tell you that raw strength isn’t the key to the swing?”

“I understand it in my mind, but my body hasn’t fully memorized the flow yet.”

Unlike the others, Ha Hu Yeon was attempting to practice the new, advanced techniques Ha Hu Gok had recently finalized. She looked down, embarrassed.

“Give me your sword.”

Ha Hu Gok reached out toward her.

“Great-grandfather, you shouldn’t…”

“It is alright. Hand it over.”

It was only after Ha Hu On gave a subtle nod that Ha Hu Yeon relinquished her blade. Ha Hu Gok took the weapon and slowly settled into a combat stance.

“Performing it twice would be a strain. I will show you once—watch closely and commit every movement to your soul.”

This wasn’t just a lesson for Ha Hu Yeon; it was a final gift to everyone present.

“I had hoped to hear that boy’s opinion on this. A pity.”

Just as his sigh—a mix of sadness and pride—faded and his blade began its first arc—

*Roooaaar!*

A thunderous, lion-like roar erupted from the distance.

“They have arrived.”

Ha Hu Gok froze his movement, a genuine, wide smile spreading across his face.