Appearance of the Heavenly Demon - Chapter 1

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 1
Prologue. A Child, A Child?!
At the summit of Seolhon Mountain, in the northeast of the Shipman Mountain Range, where eternal snow blankets the land year-round and never melts.
Namgung Unjeon gazed down at the mountain ranges buried beneath pristine white snow.
Vast expanses of white filled his entire field of vision.
As if displaying the traces of his lifetime spent walking the path of righteousness unblemished by stain, the snow-covered peak gleamed in perfect purity.
The Emperor’s Sword, Namgung Unjeon.
There was no one in the Martial World who did not know his name.
He was the Clan Head of the Namgung Clan, said to be the strongest in the current Martial World, and soon to ascend to the position of Alliance Leader.
He bent his head amid the profound silence and exhaled a long breath. The vapor, tinged with faint warmth, rose from his lips like a delicate mist.
Thump. Thump-thump. Thump!
Five or six figures positioned themselves around him. Their breath crystallized into the air in unison.
Exhaustion was plainly written across their faces as they struggled to steady their ragged breathing.
The Hyeoldan Jangsan Poison—that wretched toxin which blocked all the blood meridians of the body and slowly melted the organs, finally severing life itself.
That he had endured so long after being poisoned by such a virulent toxin, lethal enough to fell an ordinary man in a single breath, was extraordinary.
It was proof that the rumors of him having reached the realm of Hwa Gyeong were no fabrication.
“So even you, my brother, who is said to possess such penetrating insight into the Gangho, cannot foresee what stands before your own eyes.”
From behind the gathered figures emerged a single man.
Upon seeing him, Unjeon’s pupils trembled visibly.
“……?”
“Abandon this fight now, brother. There is nowhere left for you to retreat.”
Namgung Mohyeon, the eldest elder of the Namgung Clan and the blood relation Unjeon trusted most in this world.
Namgung Mohyeon spread both arms wide.
His bearing was confident, as though ten thousand celestial armies stood at his back.
“Open your eyes and look! See who stands here! This is the will of the Gangho!”
“Brother. Let us slay the Heavenly Demon and purge the Demonic Path. With you having reached the realm of Hwa Gyeong, should the Martial World unite its strength, the dream of Martial World Unification would not be impossible to achieve.”
When word came that the Heavenly Demon would emerge from the Shipman Mountain Range and strike at Cheongseong, when he declared it an opportunity—Unjeon had harbored not a trace of doubt. That was precisely why.
The sight of these supreme masters gathering from the great clans and sects had seemed to him as though the entire Martial World had unified its strength to capture the Heavenly Demon.
So who could have imagined it?
That these men had conspired together to administer poison and murder him.
“Do you not think there are many in this Martial World who would welcome an Alliance Leader without firm resolve?”
Namgung Mohyeon clicked his tongue in reproach—tsk, tsk.
“You already secured the position of Clan Head, married, and fathered a precious child. You should have been content to live modestly. Instead, you reached for something far beyond your station.”
Beneath the tone of regret lay a mockery he could not conceal.
In that instant, the earth quaked and the heavens trembled. A wind from somewhere sent the snows of the peak swirling around Unjeon.
Namgung Mohyeon reflexively stepped back, taking a combat stance. The faces of all around him hardened with tension.
‘The Emperor’s Sword form…!’
Tremendous sword force compressed the very air. It was power no dying man should possess.
“The breath of heaven flows toward evil.”
From his eyes, tears began to stream down.
They were tears tinged with crimson.
His lips too had turned the color of blood.
The poison had melted his organs, and their blood poured forth from every aperture of his body.
The lethal toxin obscured his vision as though he looked through fog.
Unjeon closed his eyes.
The entire world filled with white light.
“Those who should walk the path of Righteousness and Integrity have instead chosen the Tyrant’s Path. Where then does heaven itself flow?”
Unjeon’s Internal Energy gathered into his sword.
As the Internal Energy of Hwa Gyeong converged into a single point, the resonance of that power became tremendous beyond measure.
The swirling snowflakes wrapped around Namgung Unjeon like a raging blizzard.
For all others present, it was a tempest so violent they could scarcely open their eyes.
Yet at the center of that maelstrom where he stood, an even deeper silence prevailed.
Within that tranquil stillness, Unjeon began to unfold the Namgung swordsmanship he had devoted his entire life to master.
‘The blue sky is vast and far, its end unknowable.’
Like the heavens themselves, whose depths and breadths cannot be fathomed, so would he wield his sword.
The sky is Namgung, and Namgung is the sky.
Because it is the sky, it is all the more upright.
Because it is the sky, it is all the more azure.
Following his movement, a path of blue sword light traced itself across the air.
It was clear and righteous force, with the Namgung spirit of integrity fully dissolved within it.
‘…!’
Through the howling blizzard, Namgung Mohyeon’s eyes widened as he gazed at the figure before him, barely managing to keep them open against the onslaught.
The Cangqiong Wuya Swordsmanship—one of the techniques that only a Clan Head could master.
He had glimpsed it a handful of times before, but never had he seen a sword stroke so beautiful, so achingly blue.
Lost in wonder at the swordplay, he forgot entirely that he was in the midst of battle—and it was then that Unjeon’s voice echoed through his mind.
– The sword of Namgung must arise from a heart that is honest and unashamed, one that stands upright.
‘….’
– You have no right to inherit the name of Namgung.
In that instant, the sound of wind being split cut through the blizzard.
‘…!’
Namgung Mohyeon twisted his body belatedly, drawing his blade. But he could not deflect Unjeon’s sword completely.
Screech—!
“Ahhh…!”
Unjeon’s blade carved through Namgung Mohyeon’s right eye and shoulder, then split open his chest.
He had barely evaded the vital points, yet the wound was fatal.
“Block it! Stop him! Defend against the Emperor’s Sword!!”
The Martial World practitioners who witnessed Namgung Mohyeon’s attack unleashed their own techniques in a frantic rush.
And in that moment, the perfect arc of the blue sword stroke froze, as if time itself had stopped.
A silence so profound it lasted only the blink of an eye enveloped everything.
Then.
Boom—
The Sword Wind he had generated shattered the blizzard and surged toward the practitioners as one.
“Ahhh!”
“Ugh…!”
A tempest swept across the slope.
It was as though the very heavens were raining down upon them.
Rumble—
The cliff where Unjeon and the practitioners stood shook.
Masters of the highest caliber were flung helplessly into the air, and those among them who boasted of their strength could do nothing but endure the crushing force.
Namgung Unjeon’s final strike left no one untouched—every last one of them bore internal wounds.
Crack—
The snow mountain crumbled, and avalanches poured down.
While the practitioners fled in panic, Unjeon remained standing upright, his gaze turned toward the heavens.
A final breath escaped between his lips. And at that moment—
Rumble—!
His world came crashing down.
* * *
Whisper. Whisper.
Scattered snowflakes drifted down onto Namgung Unjeon’s head.
His unfocused eyes blinked slowly, their gaze obscured by the small, cold currents that dissipated the heat.
Beyond his blurred vision, a pristine white sky came into view.
It was like the world of Righteousness and Integrity he had once yearned to create.
‘…How exhausting.’
To finally end this miserable, dreary life—
Tap.
‘Tap?’
In that moment, a small shadow abruptly appeared, half obscuring the white sky above him.
But Unjeon’s consciousness was already fading, leaving no room to identify the shadow’s owner.
With the shadow tilting its head down at him, it was his last sight before darkness took him.
* * *
Blink. Blink—
Unjeon’s eyes opened.
The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was the shabby ceiling of an old house.
It took a long time for him to comprehend the fact that his eyes had opened at all.
Why?
Because he was dead!
“……!”
Unjeon jolted awake and pushed himself upright.
But immediately, pain cascaded through his entire body, and he trembled, clutching at his chest.
‘This… how….’
A mountain… is this real? Am I alive?
How? Why am I still breathing?
It’s impossible.
He had swallowed the Hyeoldan Jangsan Poison and was dying.
Even if he’d shaken off his pursuers with that final strike, he should have been dead….
‘Wait.’
Now that he thought about it, he’d seen something while buried in the snow, dying.
Something small and round, tilting its head,
‘A child…?’
A child? A little girl?
No more than six or seven years old?
The moment that memory surfaced, fragments came flooding back like a dam breaking loose.
Small hands forcing bitter herbs into his mouth—the agony of it.
Those same hands shoving a rice ball down his throat until he nearly choked to death.
Those hands dumping a water jug over his face, his body shaking at the shock.
Those hands tearing at his hair—
‘This… this can’t be….’
What kind of memory was this…?
Unjeon pressed his forehead with a bewildered expression.
From these fragmented recollections alone, he couldn’t tell whether the child had been trying to kill him or save him.
His eyes were trembling like aspen leaves as confusion consumed him—when suddenly.
Bang—
The door swung open without warning.
Beyond the threshold stood the girl from his memory, wearing a straw sack slung across her shoulders, perfectly composed.
Startled by the child’s sudden appearance, Unjeon hadn’t even realized he’d failed to sense her presence.
Their eyes met.
A suffocating tension hung in the air between them.
Chomp. Chomp.
The girl was chewing on dried meat.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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