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Once every fifty years, negative ghosts, phantoms, pass through their sect, which are generally harmless if not touched. They are generally harmless beings that pay no attention to anyone, migrating to wherever they need to go. Of course, the Huashan disciples didn't know about this, they could be understood, the last time only their sect leader, Hyeon Jong, had caught this, even without his saje who hadn't joined the sect back then.
They were practicing when these strange creatures came through the wall instead of their personal devil, and their hearts nearly stopped: what was this? Another attack? A diversion? Where are the enemies? How many of them? — questions rushed through their heads in Cheong Myeong's stern voice.
Even though they were preparing to attack... nothing happened, the creatures just walked in a straight line, not turning towards anyone and not stopping; the only thing was that there were as many of them as fish in the sea, so some of them didn't have time to move away before they fell to their knees, dropping their swords.
"I'm nothing," they hear a voice full of self-humiliation, "mom, I'm sorry I grew up so talentless..."
While many of the third and second generation Huashan chose to bounce away, grabbing the injured comrade by the ankles, there was also one who decided to swing a sword at the phantoms.
The third generation had never doubted Jo Geol-sahyong's ability to find trouble for himself when the Yun Jong-tesahyong was distracted by something else.
"Why was I born...?" lamented Jo Geol doomedly from the ground as Yun Jong called him an idiot from a distance, but didn't rush into the stream of phantoms; smart move.
As far as they can tell, it doesn't matter how many creatures pass through you, it doesn't get worse or better because there's no soul to get Jo Geol-sahyong out of there.
You have to hand it to the second generation, they tried; apparently they weren't used to the fact that not all evil can be defeated.
It ended predictably.
"I should never have been born..."
"Who ever entrusted me with a sword..."
"I'm nobody and my name is nothing..."
"I'm so ugly..."
Spewed from all sides from their elders, and the third generation simply left them to their own devices, staring at the abruptly opened door.
"Stay away from them!" shouted their sect leader belatedly, which the man was already able to notice himself.
Remarkably, the sect leader simply stood beside them at a safe distance, making no attempt to save the brave souls.
"These are negative ghosts or hollows", Hyeon Jong explains to them, gesturing for Elder Hyeon Sang to step around the semi-circle of self-harming spectacle that appeared before them, "they're harmless, but extremely powerful beings if you need to be knocked down. They go through the sect once every fifty years, and you just have to wait it out, it usually doesn't take more than an hour", they all ignore the others' wailing; whispers of misery, the past couple years, it's the norm of life for Huashan, "I think I might have missed the exact date..."
The third generation looks at their sect leader. Hyeon Jong averts his gaze. Well, it's not for them to judge.
"Who gave you permission to lie around, you slackers?!" shouts a familiar voice to everyone in the sect; they raise their heads, Cheong Myeong flying swiftly from somewhere above, straight into the crowd of phantoms. Those with qi pointed at their eyes can see that moment of transition from the usually frantic expression on their saje's face to understanding.
"Oh fu!—" and their saje lands in the middle of the phantoms, right on Baek Cheon-sasuk's hunched back; they can only pray for their elder's spine.
While they certainly shouldn't think or feel such a thing, they can't help but gloat that their Mad Dog will calm down for a moment and come down from his pedestal like any mortal.
"I asked a question: what are you laying around for, you brats?!" it seems that sounds of violence were heard; they don't know, they cowardly and doomedly averted their eyes.
But surely, if there is anything impossible, Cheong Myeong will do it.
Of course.
In the next instant, a shadow fell over the third generation, and they had to urgently catch their elders, whom Cheong Myeong threw at them as if they weighed nothing.
"How could you even fall for such a small thing, huh?!" yelled their personal asura at them.
"You're right, we are worms..."
"We are not worthy to live..."
"We are less than worms..."
"Stop sniveling, you bastards!"
Even self-deprecation doesn't save anyone from the hands of their devil.
(Huh, — Cheong Myeong thinks, seeing off the negative ghosts with an unreadable stare, — they used to bring me to my knees easily.
Cheong Myeong shrugs his shoulders, brushing it off as everything in the last few years.
He knows without phantoms that he is insignificant.)