Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 125

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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 124. A Butterfly’s Wing Stirs a Storm – Part 3
The man’s laughter carried an elegance that drew admiration from those who witnessed it. Yet while his mouth curved upward, his eyes—sharp and glittering—told a different story altogether.
A man smiling without truly smiling.
At his arrival, Eum Yu Gyeong withdrew her blade and stepped back.
“Phew!”
Only then could she draw breath again. The pressure emanating from Dam Ho had weighed upon her shoulders like ten thousand pounds, crushing down relentlessly.
“Master!”
“I had no idea you were sparring here. I’ve been waiting quite some time. Ha ha!”
The man laughed with easy confidence.
“You?”
Dam Ho took a step toward the man.
“Is our young friend here feeling unwell? Why is he sweating so much?”
The man wiped away the beads of sweat trickling down Bang Jin Bo’s forehead with his sleeve—a gesture so natural it seemed they were old companions.
But Bang Jin Bo, whose shoulder was now gripped by that arm, couldn’t move an inch. Like a frog frozen before a serpent.
The man, who had been carefully wiping Bang Jin Bo’s sweat, suddenly lifted his head to gaze at Dam Ho.
He grinned.
“My regards to you. I was wondering why our master was taking so long, and it seems a handsome gentleman has been keeping him occupied. But what to do about it? Our master has a prior engagement, you see.”
“Are you also a warrior of the Demonic Cult?”
“To be precise, I come from Singyeo. My name is Shin Mu Wol. And you?”
“Dam Ho.”
“Ah! A Gwonma!”
The man who had introduced himself as Shin Mu Wol let out an exclamation. Yet beneath the apparent sincerity lay a unmistakable edge of mockery.
“It’s an honor to meet you. To finally lay eyes upon the Gwonma Dam Ho, whose name echoes throughout the realm. Remarkable!”
Shin Mu Wol continued his stream of breathless admiration.
At first glance, he appeared artless and childlike. But anyone who knew him even slightly would never harbor such an impression.
Shin Mu Wol’s epithet was the Peacock Ghost Sword.
He wielded his blade as brilliantly as a peacock displays its plumage, yet with the sinister cunning of a phantom.
The Peacock Sword Case strapped across his back bore this name for the very same reason.
Within it lay five blades, each possessing a distinct technique. And Shin Mu Wol was adept at wielding each of these differently-shaped swords with equal skill.
One of them rested in his hand now, wavering dizzingly before Bang Jin Bo’s eyes with every word he spoke.
A clear threat—yet Shin Mu Wol never once let his smile falter.
Dam Ho, observing this, spoke quietly.
“If that boy is harmed, you die.”
“Yes, I understand. I have no intention of killing this child either.”
So he said—yet he did not lower his blade.
Dam Ho’s expression grew colder still.
It was the sort of gaze that would stop an ordinary man’s heart cold. But Shin Mu Wol showed no sign of strain whatsoever.
“Calm yourself. I have no desire to make an enemy of you here. I simply wish to leave this place quietly with my master. Don’t you agree? Master.”
“Yes.”
Eum Yu Gyeong nodded and moved toward Shin Mu Wol’s side.
Dam Ho simply watched her go.
If he moved now, Bang Jin Bo would die. He might then kill the two of them, but no act of will could bring the boy back.
“I’ll let you both leave this time. But you leave the boy behind.”
“Thank you. I was rather nervous, I must admit. But you’re a reasonable man—someone you can actually talk to. The rumors said you were stubborn, someone who wouldn’t listen to reason. Ha ha!”
Shin Mu Wol possessed a talent for making idle remarks that scraped at the nerves. Yet for all his mockery, Dam Ho’s expression remained unchanged.
Finally, Eum Yu Gyeong stood at Shin Mu Wol’s side.
She spoke to him through Telepathic Transmission.
―The Golden Horse Lion?
―We lost him.
―The master?
―More cunning than I expected. I’ll need your help.
―Hmm.
―The Sacred Object?
―Not yet. But I found a lead.
―We need to obtain the Sacred Object quickly. That’s the only way to stop the Cult Leader’s tyranny. We’ve received word that the Cult Leader has sent So Cheon San.
―Ten Li Without Life—that monster?
―Yes.
The two exchanged words in an instant, leaving no trace that Telepathic Transmission had passed between them.
No one, that is, except Dam Ho.
Though they believed their exchange through Telepathic Transmission was concealed, every word rang clear and distinct in Dam Ho’s ears.
‘Sacred Object? The Cult Leader’s private collection?’
It was a combination of unfamiliar words.
Questions arose, but Dam Ho gave no sign of it.
Shin Mu Wol turned his head to look at Dam Ho.
“You’ll keep your word, yes?”
“I don’t speak with two tongues.”
“I know. It’s just that the world’s grown so treacherous lately, and there are so many who break their promises. I’m simply confirming.”
Shin Mu Wol withdrew the arm draped across Bang Jin Bo’s shoulders. Only then did Bang Jin Bo exhale with relief.
“Go on then, my young friend. Though for your health’s sake, you ought to shed some of that weight. Haha!”
Shin Mu Wol patted Bang Jin Bo’s broad back with the flat of his palm, pat-pat.
Bang Jin Bo’s expression soured as he walked toward Dam Ho.
In that moment, Eum Yu Gyeong and Shin Mu Wol departed the battlefield.
Dam Ho watched them recede into the distance, and they did the same—watching him with equal intensity.
Neither side released the tension that bound them.
Only when Dam Ho finally vanished from sight did they unfold their Lightness Skill and slip away from the arena.
“I’m sorry, friend.”
Bang Jin Bo bowed his head before Dam Ho.
He felt as though he’d become a burden to Dam Ho through no fault of his own.
“It’s fine.”
“But—”
“There was nothing you could have done.”
Though Bang Jin Bo had been used as a hostage, Shin Mu Wol’s skill was genuine.
He was the very embodiment of the Smile Hiding Blade—one who knew how to conceal steel beneath laughter. In some ways, he might even be more difficult to contend with than Eum Yu Gyeong.
Dam Ho harbored no regrets.
What was done was done. And as long as he lived in Jianghu, he would meet them again someday.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes!”
The two set out once more.
The construction of the Murim Alliance proceeded smoothly.
The appearance of the Golden Horse Lion had paradoxically become the catalyst for the Alliance’s founding. As the Demonic Cult’s invasion became reality, each sect sent numerous martial artists to Akyang, where the Murim Alliance was taking shape.
The Alliance’s buildings were now substantially completed.
What remained was to establish subordinate organizations and select the leadership.
The leaders of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans engaged in fierce debate over this matter.
They agreed that the Demonic Cult’s invasion required uniting the entire Murim under one banner, but none wished to surrender even a fraction of their own interests and authority.
The larger sects—particularly the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans, which had invested so much—clung most tenaciously to their gains.
Day after day, heated voices clashed, and an acrimonious atmosphere settled over the proceedings. Yet as time passed, the Alliance’s structure gradually took shape.
First, they decided to appoint the Alliance Leader not from the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Clans, but a renowned martial master from outside their ranks.
It was a measure to forestall public criticism that the Alliance’s key positions were monopolized by the great sects and clans.
The Alliance Leader’s authority was formidable indeed.
The right to dispatch martial artists to each sect in emergencies, the power to personally appoint the commanders of the Alliance’s major auxiliary forces, and even the transcendent authority to issue a general mobilization order across all Murim in times of crisis.
Yet even so, the Alliance Leader did not possess absolute power. To check the Leader’s potential autocracy, an Elder Council was established.
The Elder Council comprised twenty members in total, the vast majority of whom came from the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans.
The Council could raise objections to the Leader’s decisions, and if two-thirds of its members agreed, it held the authority to remove the Leader from office.
This was the substance of what had been agreed upon thus far.
“Phew!”
Namgoong Chang exhaled heavily.
In mere days, he felt as though he’d aged years—such was the toll this had exacted from him.
The past few days had been warfare for him.
Nor was he alone in this. Most of the martial artists gathered to discuss the Alliance’s framework felt the same strain.
They had come as representatives of their respective sects’ interests.
The moment their sect’s advantages faced even the slightest compromise, they would leap forward and voice their objections, making any orderly discussion impossible.
Yet that even this degree of consensus could be reached owed greatly to Namgoong Chang’s efforts.
He had poured everything into harmonizing the views of so many. Of course, his intent in managing all this had not been purely altruistic.
He had to secure maximum advantage for himself while avoiding the scrutiny of others. Especially after Dam Ho had cost the Namgoong Clan its guard force, he could not afford to be careless.
Fortunately, through a delicate balancing act, he had achieved most of his objectives. Meanwhile, the Namgoong Clan had sent replacements for the forces that had been annihilated.
A contingent many times larger than the Gold Sword Guard that had escorted him before. Among them were martial artists who would serve with the Murim Alliance.
Now, at last, Namgoong Chang could breathe freely. With them to rely upon, he could raise his voice and influence within the Alliance.
“If only it weren’t for that Gwonma…”
A shadow fell across Namgoong Chang’s face.
Though considerable time had passed since Dam Ho had humiliated him, that day’s memory had not faded in the slightest. No—with each passing day, his fear of Dam Ho only deepened.
The problem was that he could show none of this.
He was not a man who could afford to waver.
Namgoong Chang shook his head, trying to brush the thoughts away.
“I need a drink.”
He was reaching for the wine bottle on the table when—
“Uncle.”
A young man burst through the door, his right wrist bound with white cloth, his voice cutting and urgent.
It was Namgoong Su, Namgoong Chang’s nephew.
“What is it?”
“Important intelligence has come in.”
“Important intelligence?”
“Yes, sir.”
At his nephew’s reply, Namgoong Chang’s brow furrowed briefly. He had wanted to spend this time alone and undisturbed.
But he quickly composed himself and pressed further.
“What is it?”
“It concerns the Nokrim Eighteen Fortresses.”
“Nokrim?”
“Yes! Word has come that Hwang Gyeong Mun’s Daughter, the supreme leader of the Nokrim Eighteen Fortresses, has arrived in Akyang.”
“What?”
Namgoong Chang’s face went pale.
Hwang Gyeong Mun, supreme leader of Nokrim, was already a legendary figure in the Jianghu.
It was common knowledge that the formidable Nokrim of today owed its very existence to him.
Should Hwang Gyeong Mun command it even now, tens of thousands of Nokrim bandits would throw their lives away without hesitation.
Namgoong Chang had once heard intelligence that Hwang Gyeong Mun had a beloved daughter—so precious to him that she was rarely allowed out of his sight.
“Is this confirmed?”
“The information comes from a reliable source.”
“Hmm.”
“There are also witnesses who claim to have seen her on the streets of Akyang.”
“But why would she come here?”
Namgoong Chang muttered, his expression one of bafflement.
He could hardly be ignorant of the fact that a gathering was taking place here to establish the Murim Alliance. Nokrim and the Alliance were natural enemies.
Yet Hwang Gyeong Mun had sent his only daughter, his sole surviving child, to this place. To Namgoong Chang’s mind, it made no sense.
As he turned the matter over in his thoughts, a single conclusion began to crystallize.
“Could it be that Nokrim is trying to sabotage the Alliance?”
It was entirely plausible.
Once a powerful orthodox faction like the Murim Alliance took shape, both the Demonic Cult and Nokrim would suffer. A united force naturally seeks outlets for its strength, and Nokrim made an excellent target for demonstration.
In fact, Namgoong Chang himself had been planning to conduct experimental suppression operations against a few Nokrim strongholds once the Alliance was formed and had stabilized. Now, with this new possibility in mind, all the pieces seemed to fall into place.
The more he considered it this way, the more the scattered details aligned.
“First, determine her location. We can investigate the details afterward.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Remember this: find her whereabouts and observe only. Under no circumstances are you to make contact.”
“It shall be done as you say.”
Namgoong Su bowed deeply.
His eyes burned with sharp intent.
Ever since Dam Ho had broken his wrist, Namgoong Su had been a man stripped of face, unable to walk with his head high.
This was his chance to reclaim it. He swore to himself that he would not squander this opportunity.

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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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