Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 122

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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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Chapter 121. The Thread of Fate Weaves in Ways No One Can Predict—3
The first thing Dam Ho did upon waking that morning was to find the Stable Barn where Black Ghost was kept.
A contented neigh rang out!
Black Ghost whinnied in greeting, and Dam Ho reached up to gently pat the beast’s neck.
Black Ghost’s eyes narrowed in pleasure, and through the contact of his hand, Dam Ho felt the creature’s contentment flowing back to him.
“Good.”
Dam Ho closed his eyes as well.
Nearly three months had passed since he and Black Ghost first came together, and in that time, their connection had only deepened.
After lingering with Black Ghost for a while longer, Dam Ho made his way back down to the dining hall on the first floor of the inn, where he found Bang Jin Bo engaged in spirited conversation with Jong Moon Yeon, the proprietor’s cook.
The previous night, Bang Jin Bo had spent his hours in the kitchen of the Pungcheon Inn. Jong Moon Yeon was the cook’s name—the husband of the inn’s proprietress and the one responsible for overseeing the kitchen.
As befitted a man of many years in the trade, Jong Moon Yeon possessed an extensive knowledge of all aspects of cooking.
Rather than dismissing Bang Jin Bo at their first meeting, he had engaged him in lengthy conversation and even offered direct instruction. Enchanted by the joy of cooking, Bang Jin Bo had spent the entire night awake.
Yet now, as Dam Ho entered, Bang Jin Bo showed not a trace of exhaustion—only a broad, beaming smile, so thoroughly had he lost himself in the pleasure of his craft.
“You’re here!”
Bang Jin Bo’s face lit up at the sight of Dam Ho.
“Yes.”
“Will you be having breakfast?”
“I will.”
“Hehe! Jong the cook has just prepared mapo tofu—it’s absolutely exquisite.”
“I see.”
“Do have a seat. I’ll bring it out right away.”
“Thank you.”
Dam Ho made his way to a table by the window.
The hour was still early, so the dining hall remained quite sparse. Only five or six patrons occupied tables, each absorbed in their meal without a word. The quiet afforded Dam Ho the peace to enjoy his tea undisturbed.
But that peace would not last long.
“Seal off this sector.”
“We must capture the witch at all costs.”
The shouts of men outside grew louder, and soon a group of armed figures came pouring into the inn.
Those in Daoist robes and temple hats were unmistakably Daoists, and they radiated an ominous, menacing aura as they surveyed the interior.
At this sudden intrusion, Jong Moon Yeon stepped forward to meet them.
Having lived here long, he recognized who these Daoists were.
“Pardon me—what brings the honored Daoists of the Gugung Sect to this humble establishment?”
“We are hunting a witch who attacked our sect.”
The eldest-looking Daoist among them stepped forward.
This old Daoist’s name was Cheol Gwan; he was a disciple of the Zhenren Cheol Yang and the chief of the Nine Elders of the Gugung Sect.
“A witch, you say?”
“Last night, our Sect Leader—the Zhenren Cheol Yang—was attacked by this witch and sustained grave injuries.”
“What?”
Jong Moon Yeon’s eyes widened in shock.
The Sect Leader of the Gugung Sect was none other than Cheol Yang the Zhenren—a most respected figure in all of Tongsang and the surrounding region, a true master among Daoists.
“We have intelligence that the witch responsible remained at this inn last night.”
“Is that so? I can hardly believe—”
Jong Moon Yeon’s face drained of all color.
There had been only one woman staying here the previous night.
“Where? Which room did she occupy?”
“T-the Private Room, toward the back.”
At Jong Moon Yeon’s answer, Cheol Gwan’s eyes blazed with predatory intensity.
“No one in this inn leaves until we have captured the witch.”
“Understood!”
Several of the Daoists responded in unison and immediately moved to block the main entrance of the inn.
A savage, violent aura emanated from their very bodies.
For the Sect Leader to be attacked and gravely wounded here, at the very heart of the Gugung Sect’s domain, was an affront beyond bearing—a shame that could not be washed away.
They had no choice but to capture and punish the witch who had attacked the Sect Leader. Only then could they hope to restore even a measure of their tarnished honor.
Cheol Gwan and his Daoists stormed into the Private Room, only to find it empty. There were no signs of occupancy—it seemed the witch had never entered it at all.
“The witch—!”
Cheol Gwan ground his teeth together in fury.
“Seal every exit from Tongsang. I want not a single ant to slip through.”
“Yes!”
A handful of Daoists rushed out to obey his command, while Cheol Gwan returned to the first-floor dining hall.
The dining hall was now filled with everyone who had been staying at the inn the night before. The Gugung Sect’s Daoists had roused them all from their rooms.
Those dragged from their sleep bore faces full of resentment. Yet they dared not voice their displeasure openly.
They had heard enough to understand the situation—at least in outline.
The Sect Leader of Gugung Sect had been attacked. One wrong move, and they risked drawing the enmity not merely of Gugung Sect, but of every righteous faction in the region.
The Daoists of Gugung Sect closed ranks around the assembled guests. Most of them wilted beneath the weight of that aura, words dying before they could form.
Cheol Gwan spoke at last.
“You’ve heard the bare bones of it, I trust. We seek the beast who struck down our Sect Leader. We ask only that you cooperate without resistance.”
“But we know nothing of her,” the small-framed Merchant protested, his tone wounded.
Yet Cheol Yang’s reply came cold as winter frost.
“That will be for us to judge. You need only speak what you know.”
“That is… well….”
“Is that clear?”
“Yes… perfectly clear.”
The Merchant’s shoulders hunched. His spirit had broken.
“You shall begin. Tell me of her.”
“All I know is that she arrived here yesterday evening, quite suddenly. She dealt with several ruffians who were pestering her, then took her meal alone.”
“Did anyone else speak with her?”
The Merchant shook his head.
“No one. After that, she uttered not a word. Once she finished eating, I did not see her again.”
“You are certain?”
“I am.”
Cheol Gwan pressed several others with similar questions. Their answers mirrored the Merchant’s exactly.
“Ugh!”
Finding nothing, Cheol Gwan’s face twisted with frustration.
His gaze suddenly fixed upon Dam Ho, who sat at one corner of the dining hall. While every other soul bore the grim mask of one cowed by Gugung Sect’s presence, Dam Ho alone continued his meal with untroubled calm.
“You there!”
Cheol Gwan advanced upon Dam Ho. But Dam Ho gave no sign of hearing, his chopsticks still moving.
“Did you not hear me?”
Cheol Gwan’s voice thundered through the hall.
Only then did Dam Ho set down his utensils and look up.
A chill ran through them all.
In that moment when their eyes met, Cheol Gwan felt it—that prickling dread, as though his neck lay bare before a predator.
His hand found the sword at his hip.
“What is your business, elder?” Dam Ho asked mildly.
At the sight of Cheol Gwan’s stance, the Gugung Sect Daoists surged forward and ringed Dam Ho about. Yet Dam Ho himself remained unmoved, his expression empty of all feeling as he regarded Cheol Gwan.
“What is this?”
“Ugh! Did you not hear my words? I asked if you knew anything of the witch. Speak!”
“I don’t.”
“What did you say?”
“So I have nothing to tell.”
A hiss of breath escaped Cheol Gwan’s lips.
His face crumpled in fury.
The younger Daoists flared with anger first.
“How dare you! Do you mock the elder’s words?”
“Mock?”
Dam Ho’s eyes slid toward the young Daoist who had spoken. The boy flinched and stumbled backward.
In that glance, the young Daoist glimpsed his own death. Sweat bloomed down his spine.
‘What… was that?’
He trembled.
He could not tell if what he had seen was real or illusion. But the creeping horror was undeniable.
Dam Ho rose to his feet.
In that instant, Cheol Gwan and the other Daoists felt as though a vast shadow of black had interposed itself between them and the world.
‘This cannot be…’
Cheol Gwan and the young Daoists understood now: the man before them was no ordinary martial master.
Disheveled black hair. A long robe black as pitch. Eyes deep and fathomless as obsidian.
They seemed to recall tales of such a man—whispered in legend. Yet the memory would not come clear.
Dam Ho took a step toward them.
The moment they saw his left foot—how it dragged ever so slightly—cries tore from their throats.
“Is it… Gwonma?”
That legendary name, the one that shakes the Murim even now.
Gwonma’s renown had spread far through Hubei Province. To sects like Gugung, he was a mark of peril itself.
It was widely known that Gwonma acted purely as he pleased, without distinguishing between righteousness and evil. Neither the code of Jianghu nor the principles of the Dao held any sway over him.
Cheol Gwan’s expression hardened into stone.
“You are Dam Ho, the Gwonma Great Hero, are you not?”
“So what if I am?”
“Hmm!”
Cheol Gwan found himself at a loss for words.
Everything he had heard about the man standing before him was uniformly sinister and incredible. One thing was certain: among all the sects and martial artists who had faced him, not a single one had walked away unscathed.
Cheol Gwan glanced sideways at his disciples.
The moment he saw their faces drained pale as lambs before a tiger, he could only sigh. Yet he could not blame them alone. He himself felt an overwhelming weight pressing down upon him.
It was unthinkable that ordinary martial artists like these could withstand the presence of an Absolute Master such as Dam Ho.
When he had remained silent, it was bearable. But the moment his true identity was revealed, an enormous presence seemed to pour forth. Still, he could not simply retreat without speaking another word.
“I had no idea the Great Hero was staying in this place. I apologize for troubling you, but we desperately need information about the witch. Would you be kind enough to share anything you might know of her?”
“I already told you. I don’t know anything.”
“Is that truly the case?”
“Why would I have reason to lie to you?”
“Then what brings you to Tongsang?”
“Just passing through.”
“And your destination?”
Dam Ho did not answer.
He found Cheol Gwan’s interrogative tone grating.
Cheol Gwan pressed the question once more.
“Where are you headed?”
“Why should I tell you that?”
“To clear away any misunderstanding between us. It’s not such a difficult thing, is it?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“What did you just say?”
“Want me to repeat it? I said it’s ridiculous.”
“How dare you!”
“Planning to fight?”
Dam Ho fixed Cheol Gwan with an unwavering stare.
Cheol Gwan could not hold that gaze and quietly lowered his eyes.
“Hmm!”
“If you want to catch the criminal, use your legs. Stop harassing innocent people.”
“Tsk!”
Cheol Gwan’s face crumpled pathetically at Dam Ho’s caustic words. The younger Daoists bristled at this, but they did not move.
Cheol Gwan bowed to Dam Ho.
“As you say, we shall search on foot. And speaking from an abundance of caution, I sincerely hope you have no connection with that witch. This comes from the heart.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Then I wish you safe travels.”
After bowing, Cheol Gwan turned and left.
Crunch, crunch.
He ground his teeth so hard they nearly broke.

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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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