Chapter 505 ·The Greatest Warrior of the Islamic World (5)

Sitting 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󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄂cross-legged in his mindscape, Jong-ri Chu watched a tall mirror materialize out of thin air right in front of him. Reflected in that mirror was a smiling figure identical to him in every detail. He grinned warmly at himself as if welcoming him home after a long journey.

When ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂Jong-ri Chu turned his head to the side, he was greeted by another mirror. The one contained in it wore a gloomy expression and a wistful smile.

They ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂were both him, just wearing different faces.

‘For ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂now, this is the best I can manage.’

Currently, ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂splitting his ego into two distinct personalities was his absolute limit. Any more and he’d risk going into a full-blown psychotic break.

"I'm ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂counting on you both."

The Chu Number Two and Chu Number Three answered from within their mirrors.

"Hahaha. Don't sweat it, buddy."

"You drag us back after all these years and immediately put us to work? Talk about being a hardass.”

***

"S-Sir, is everything alright?"

"Is there a problem?"

Ohalak and James watched him with anxious faces. Their duty was to take his orders and relay them to the defenders in the local tongue, so seeing their commander suddenly freezing and stopping talking was nothing short of a heart attack for them.

Just then, the man who had frozen mid-step with his eyes shut snapped them wide open.

Whoosh!!

A wave of cold Sword Qi whipped through the gap between Ohalak and James.

Squelch.

A wet thud echoed behind them.

When they worked up the nerve to look, a zealot who'd been scaling the wall was sliding off it, his head no longer attached to his body.

Gulp.

The two men swallowed hard and turned back to Jong-ri Chu, who had already pivoted away and was barking out fresh orders as if nothing had happened.

"The left flank is buckling! Fix that line, now!"

For reasons neither of them could articulate, Ohalak and James stared at him with ashen faces.

Jong-ri Chu's head was whipping left and right like a metronome gone mad. His eyeballs were jittering uncontrollably, scanning the battlefield at a terrifying speed.

And to make it worse, while his head was cranked completely over his right shoulder...

Whoosh.

...his sword hand swept left on its own to launch a Sword Qi at an incoming arrow he never once looked at.

To an outside observer, it would look like some third entity was working his body like a marionette.

That was more or less the truth.

Jong-ri Chu had delegated the battlefield to his other two selves.

He took the front while Chu Number Two covered the left and Chu Number Three covered the right. As for the northern wall behind them, they had no choice but to entrust it to Dokgo Ryong’s care.

But three minds or not, there was still only one body. That single body had to monitor three fronts at once. He spread his Qi perception wide and awake while straining his hearing to catch every sound from every direction. And on top of it all, his head and eyes never stopped scanning the battlefield to harvest information from three sides.

Miraculously, this suicidal attempt actually partitioned the flood of information that should have fried his brain into three manageable streams.

One for Original Chu, one for Chu Number Two, and one for Chu Number Three.

With the front as his responsibility, Jong-ri Chu shouted. "The enemy is massing on the right! Bring up the boiling oil and reinforce that section!”

At the same moment, Chu Number Two caught an issue on the left and screamed, "Clear out that rubble!! You’re choking the damn supply lines!!"

The two commanders shouted their orders at once.

The problem is, these two commanders only have one mouth. As a result, what came out of Jong-ri Chu’s mouth this time was nothing but a gibberish sound belonging to no language on earth.

Jong-ri Chu found a workaround and shouted again.

"The enemy is massing on the right! Bring up the boiling oil and reinforce that section!”

—Clear out that rubble!! You’re choking the damn supply lines!!

One order delivered by voice. The other carried via voice transmission.

And while he was juggling two audio channels, he cranked his neck to the right so Chu Number Three could guard their blind spot.

Squelch!

Watching his limbs twist in opposite directions while two different voices blasted out of him simultaneously, Ohalak and James nearly suffered from real heart attacks.

"N-no matter how I look at it, t-that man is not normal."

"L-let's just keep watching. W-Where exactly are we gonna run up here anyway?"

Just then, Jong-ri Chu whipped his head around to check the left side and bellowed.

"Miss Jeong! The sorcerers and officers at the front are thinning out! Redirect to the eastern wall!!"

It was the conclusion he and Chu Number Three had reached after a brief negotiation inside his own skull.

Hearing her name, Jeong Hyeon glanced over and visibly flinched. 

Jong-ri Chu's current state reminded her of a horror tale where a ghost's limbs are snapped and contorted the wrong way. He was one wrong move away from snapping his neck or his spine. And he was issuing orders from that position and swinging his sword at the same time.

She hurriedly turned her eyes back toward the eastern wall.

‘I-I didn't see that. I definitely didn't see that.’

Deciding that looking at him any longer was guaranteed nightmare fuel, Jeong Hyeon aggressively wiped the image from her brain.

She scooped up a fistful of arrows from the heaping pile at her side and aimed for the enemy officers and sorcerers targeting the eastern wall.

TWANG!

Even amid the shriek of her arrow streaking away, Jong-ri Chu's orders never paused.

‘Hehehehe. Having three heads really makes things so much easier.’

‘Took you long enough to figure that out.’

‘Do call on us more often from now on.’

With the workload divided, he actually had enough breathing room to chat idly with the friends in his head.

Yet, despite this newfound efficiency, a dark cloud of anxiety lingered in a corner of his mind. 

It wasn't the fear that he might genuinely be going insane; on the contrary, having his old companions back actually made his mind feel rather cozy.

‘Grand Preceptor, please hold on.’

His anxiety was directed at the space just a short distance from the fortress walls.

There, Il-mok was engaged in a brutal life-and-death struggle against the Khalas Empire's Great General.

If Il-mok died or even took a crippling hit, the entire siege would collapse into a massacre.

‘Oh, relax! Our youngest brother has got this in the bag.’

‘Obviously. Aren't you worrying a bit too much?’

Jong-ri Chu scolded himself inwardly for his lack of faith. That chronic complainer Chu Number Three was fretting over nothing again.

‘Hmm? Wait. Was that me, or was that Chu Number Three?’

The existential crisis popped into his head for half a second before he instantly deleted it. He was running a war; he didn't have time to stress over trivial identity theft.

***

Great General Talib's gaze settled on Il-mok who was now standing alone.

The moment their eyes met, an overwhelming sensation washed over Il-mok. It felt like a tsunami was about to crash down on his head.

From his entire being, Talib radiated a suffocating tidal wave of pure martial intent that pressed on the air around Il-mok.

In response, Il-mok sent a wave of intent of his own and pushed it outward layer by layer like how he had donned his Force Qi Armor.

The two invisible forces collided against each other, locked in a brutal turf war over the very air around them.

Il-mok let out a soft groan.

"Hmm."

He could feel himself being pushed back. The pressure bearing down on him was steadily mounting.

Then a bizarre sight caught his eye.

An arrow loosed from somewhere atop the wall streaked toward the Great General, but the moment it crossed into his Domain, its trajectory warped violently and it veered off to strike elsewhere.

It was as if, within this Domain, the Great General's willpower dictated the very laws of nature.

Watching him play god was more than a little irritating.

‘You're really having a field day, aren't you?’

When Talib had been fending off their joint attacks earlier, he hadn't dared to showcase such an arrogant trick.

Il-mok realized that a pure contest of Domain could only end badly for him, so he moved first. Without warning, he channeled the energy of all three dantians and pressed his palms together. In a flash, he compressed his energy into a miniature World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm and thrust it forward.

Talib didn't even blink at the move. He answered by sweeping his saber around and launching a Force Qi Sphere to meet it.

BOOM!!

The Force Qi Orb collided with the Taiji sphere before the palm's power could even reach Talib, and a deafening explosion tore through the air.

As the shockwave ripped up the earth and sent a massive dust cloud exploding outward, Il-mok instantly kicked his lightness skill into overdrive.

Likewise, Talib was already bursting right through the smoke screen and sprinted for the kill.

Whether by fortune or misfortune, the tidal wave of willpower that had been slowly constricting around Il-mok had vanished.

Instead—

BOOM!!

A monstrous force came shuddering up the saber as it met the Ascension Sword, rattling every joint in his body.

Talib had concentrated his will into the Force Qi wrapped around his blade.

Maybe it was because he was standing right at the edge of a breakthrough, but Il-mok suddenly understood vaguely how the man was pulling it off.

‘It's just like Qi. No, of course it is. He's using Qi as the medium.’

Just as condensed Qi could form Sword Force and Force Qi Rrbs, willpower too grew stronger the more tightly it was focused. Spread it wide, and you could claim a domain and play god, but that only worked against opponents far below your level.

The second application reminded Il-mok of his late Master when he first saw him deploying the Heavenly Demon Sovereign Stride.

Against a true peer, concentrating everything onto a single point was the far better play.

It also explained why, even wrapped in the same Force Qi, masters of the Realm of Truth had always got swatted away like annoying flies when they fought the Divine Monk. And why that monk's mere Force Qi Armor had withstood the World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm when Hwangbo Ak's armor would have been torn through like wet paper.

BOOM!!!

Their blades met again, and Il-mok gave a step.

As he retreated, the Great General stepped forward to press him with a follow-up attack.

In that instant, Il-mok hauled up the energy of all three dantians at once.

On pure skill with will itself, he couldn't match this man yet.

But there was a way to brute-force the gap.

BZZZZT!

The screeching crackle of electricity exploded along the blade of the Ascension Sword. Two energies of opposing nature tangled and braided together, crossing and recrossing like warring serpents.

The Soul-Annihilating Primordial Sword Thunder.

The technique that had cut the Divine Monk in half.

The fundamentally incompatible energies violently rejected one another, howling as they fought to detonate right there in his hands.

BZZZZT!

The feedback was so intense that the Ascension Sword itself screamed under the strain.

Then sword met saber once more.

KABOOM!!

When the dust cleared and Talib saw that Il-mok hadn't yielded a single inch, his eyes widened with genuine intrigue.

"Well, look at that. You’ve got another trick for weaponizing incompatible aethers."

And it wasn't for show.

The recoil traveling down the saber was enough to make every muscle and bone in his body howl. If he didn't commit his full strength, he might actually start losing the contest of raw power. He hadn't felt this kind of threat since the day he received the second blessing of his Allah.

And maybe because, underneath the fancy Grand General title, he was just a battle-crazed martial artist at his core, he loved it.

CLANG!!

With a thrilled grin plastered on his face, Talib unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of strikes.

Every time their weapons met, the air shattered with the deafening screech of explosions and grinding steel.

Il-mok was suffering.

Holding down two opposing energies that wanted nothing more than to explode was giving him a blinding headache. The only upside was that he was technically winning the raw power struggle.

He gritted his teeth.

‘I just need to stall him out until the rest of the army secures the walls.’

But the second that thought popped into his head, Talib suddenly dropped his excited grin and let his enthusiasm visibly cool.

"This one's the same as that orb of yours. Poor stability."

With their weapons locked together, Talib's leg lashed out without warning at Il-mok's flank. Pouring everything into the Sword Thunder as he was, Il-mok had no leeway to counter with a kick of his own.

Snap.

Forced to hop back to dodge the kick, Il-mok suddenly found himself at a distance.

Instead of pursuing Il-mok, Talib began whipping his saber through the empty air. Saber Force and Force Qi Orbs came screaming in at him in an unbroken stream.

Il-mok had to throw himself into frantic dodges and desperate parries with the Ascension Sword just to survive.

BOOM!!

Every time he blocked a strike, the jolt from the impact sent the wildly unstable Sword Thunder into a rampage, and suppressing the imminent explosion took so much raw effort that the veins on Il-mok’s forehead looked like they were going to pop.

Then, mid-barrage, Talib abruptly stopped.

He simply stood there with his saber leveled at Il-mok.

A moment later, a heavy wave of Qi began flowing out from him toward Il-mok from every direction at once.

Talib was cutting off his moving space with his Domain.

Since Il-mok’s brain was already overloaded from just keeping his sword from blowing up, he didn't have the mental bandwidth to project his own Domain and fight back, nor could he draw the energies back into his body. Those energies had already begun to repel each other; pulling them inside would simply blow him apart from within.

"Damn it."

He spat a quiet curse and swung the Ascension Sword at the empty air with everything he had. The Soul-Annihilating Primordial Sword Thunder coiled around the blade tore free and streaked straight for Talib.

Talib twisted aside through the air as if he'd been expecting exactly that. The Sword Thunder detonated with the fury of a World-Destroying Primordial Jade Palm, but Talib raised a barrier of Force Qi laden with will and smothered the blast.

The blast did scatter the Domain that had been constricting him from all sides, but Il-mok now looked like a beggar pulled from a ditch. The Sword Thunder's energy had gone off at arm's reach. He'd thrown up a force barrier in time, but there was nothing clean about it, nothing like Talib's effortless smothering of the explosion.

With his clothes singed and his hair blown wildly in every direction, Il-mok swallowed a bitter sigh.

‘He's good.’

Seizing space by flooding it with willpower. Amplifying power by focusing willpower to a single point.

Il-mok could do both, without question. The difference was speed and precision.

What Il-mok managed only by dragging his concentration to its absolute limit, this man did as casually as flexing a finger.

After brushing off the Sword Thunder's blast, Talib swung his saber at the empty air. Only this time, there was no Force Qi or Saber Force. Not even a basic Saber Qi.

To anyone else, he just looked like a crazy guy slashing at the wind. But Il-mok instantly felt his blood run cold.

The instant that saber swept the air, a blade of densely compressed willpower was already flying at his neck.

If he had to name it, he'd call it a Mind Blade.

Il-mok swung the Ascension Sword loaded with his own willpower, and it struck something in the empty air where nothing should be.

And while he was busy deflecting the Mind Blade—

Tap!

Talib had already slipped inside his guard with his saber carving toward him.

BOOM!

Sword met saber three times in rapid succession, and Il-mok clenched his jaw against the blood surging up his throat. If he just kept trading blows like this, the internal hemorrhaging was going to shred his organs.

To survive the strength contest, he hauled up all three dantians once more.

BZZZT!

The Soul-Annihilating Primordial Sword Thunder took shape along the Ascension Sword.

KABOOM!!

The fourth time steel met steel, Talib used the recoil to hurl himself backward. From that new distance, he resumed spamming Force Qi Orbs through the air at Il-mok, or spreading his will to limit his moving space.

‘That sword is dangerous.’

It was a martial art so devastating that even he found it burdensome to clash against it head-on. 

But it didn't matter.

All Talib had to do was never clash with it directly.

The man was reaching for power beyond his level, which meant stability was inevitably his weak point.

‘In that sense, I might as well call it sorcery.’

Homing in on that fatal flaw, Talib ruthlessly cranked up the pressure.

His goal was to make the Avatar of the Evil God lose control of his own power and destroy himself.

Under the relentless assault, Il-mok went from looking like a ragged beggar to a walking corpse. His clothes were shredded meat, blood wept from dozens of shallow cuts across his body, and a steady stream of red dripped from his chin.

‘Any second now.’

Either he would fail to control the opposing energies and burst apart, or he would die a beat too slow to keep up. Talib settled into the mood of a predator slowly squeezing the life from its prey.

How long he kept up that leisurely hunt, he couldn't say. But eventually, something began to gnaw at him.

‘He's... getting faster?’

Outwardly, the Avatar of the Evil God looked every bit the walking corpse. But somehow, he was handling his willpower and his Qi with greater and greater ease than at the start.

KABOOM!!

Right as their blades locked against each other one last time, Il-mok exhaled a heavy breath.

"Finally. I can see it now.”

The dying Avatar of the Evil God opened his mouth, and his expression was not one of despair.

It was relief.

"The view beyond the wall."

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