Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 175

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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 174. Even a fierce wind cannot erase the scent of blood—3
An unprecedented cold had gripped the winter that year.
It was said to be the worst in decades. Snow piled higher than an adult’s height, and the temperature plummeted relentlessly; those who froze to death were countless.
Because of this, most people refrained from venturing outside and were forced to remain shut indoors. The snow-covered streets fell silent of human presence.
While the vast majority of the world observed this caution, a single class stood apart.
They were the ones called warriors, or Kangho people.
The previous winter, the Murim Alliance and the Demon Cult had clashed throughout the Central Plains.
The greatest collision occurred in Baek Eun in Ganshu Province—a major county situated mere steps from Nan Zhou, the provincial capital.
The Murim Alliance had established a branch there, and it was this outpost that warriors of the Demon Cult attacked.
The Baek Eun branch had held some four hundred warriors, yet more than a thousand from the Demon Cult launched a surprise assault.
Initially, the Demon Cult held the obvious advantage—overwhelmingly superior in both numbers and quality.
Facing the Demon Cult’s relentless offensive, the Baek Eun branch teetered on the brink of annihilation. Then reinforcement came from the Gong Dong Faction, based in the same province.
The Gong Dong Faction sent five hundred elite warriors to aid the branch, and only then could Baek Eun push back the Demon Cult and draw a breath of relief.
But the Demon Cult did not retreat gracefully. After regrouping their forces, they attacked the Baek Eun branch again.
Fierce battle ensued, and casualties mounted rapidly. The Baek Eun branch found itself in crisis once more.
At that moment, reinforcements from the Jong Nam Sect struck the Demon Cult’s rear as they pressed their assault on Baek Eun, forcing the cult to withdraw with heavy losses.
Though the Demon Cult was repelled, the price paid by the Murim Alliance, the Gong Dong Faction, and the Jong Nam Sect was staggering—nearly a thousand warriors dead or wounded.
The war between the Demon Cult and its enemies at Baek Eun sent shockwaves throughout the realm. People trembled in fear, and the economy of Ganshu Province ground to a halt.
Beyond Baek Eun, the Murim Alliance and the Demon Cult clashed in countless other places.
White snow was stained red with blood, and the groans of wounded warriors echoed across the heavens.
The Kangho people understood: this was merely the beginning.
The leaders of the Demon Cult—including Ten-Li No Life and So Cheon Mountain—had yet to reveal themselves. When they did, the true Righteous-Demon Great War would commence.
When that day came, no one could even fathom how many more would perish.
And so the realm entered an era of chaos.
The Murim Alliance and the sects of Kangho moved with greater urgency than ever before, scrambling for survival.
Yet while all rushed about, one of the Five Great Clans took the opposite course: the Namgoong Clan.
For reasons unknown, the Namgoong Clan had locked its gates and recalled all its warriors from abroad, maintaining only minimal forces dispatched to the Murim Alliance.
Rumor had it they had suffered grievous losses in a clash with the Demon of Authority. Their secret organization, Geom Wang Dae, had been obliterated, and the clan leader himself, Namgoong Cheon, had sustained critical injuries—thus the clan was forced into this posture.
People hungered for truth, but the Namgoong Clan sealed their gates and offered no answers.
In their silence, people presumed the rumors held weight.
All eyes now fixed upon the Demon of Authority, Dam Ho. Yet the very subject of these whispers had vanished from Kangho without a trace.
Though Dam Ho did not show himself, his name had claimed a place at the pinnacle of Kangho.
People began to regard Dam Ho as equal to the Sect Leaders of the Nine Great Sects, or perhaps even their superior. Thus Dam Ho was becoming a legend of Kangho.
Sak Zhou lay to the north of Shanxi Province. Though smaller in scale than Tae Won, the provincial capital, it boasted well-developed roads and waterways, making it an important city in Shanxi.
Yet despite its geographic significance, Sak Zhou was desolate—situated at the remote northern border adjacent to Mongolia and built upon barren soil.
Few people had lived there. But when the Murim Alliance established a branch the previous winter, circumstances changed.
The Murim Alliance, recognizing Shanxi’s strategic importance, created this branch and poured vast resources and manpower into it.
With resources and labor came money; with money came merchants and courtesans. In no time, Sak Zhou transformed into a city of pleasures.
Walking the streets, one encountered warriors with ease, and these same warriors were lured by courtesans in houses lit by red lanterns.
The Murim Alliance’s Sak Zhou branch stood on the outskirts of the city. Its walls towered three zhang high, and the perimeter stretched a hundred zhang, resembling a small fortress.
A dozen warriors stood guard at the main gate, their eyes and bearing radiating lethal vigilance.
News of the Baek Eun branch’s battle had reached here. Consequently, the Sak Zhou branch’s guard stance had reached its highest alert.
Light of caution kindled in the warriors’ eyes.
A group of warriors approached in the distance, heading toward the Sak Zhou branch. Wrapped entirely from head to toe in cloth against the bitter wind, about a dozen of them appeared, and the gate guards tensed.
‘Demon Cult?’
It was the first thought that came.
Their grips tightened on their weapons. The one in the rear readied an emergency horn to sound.
The unit commander shouted toward the approaching strangers.
“Who are you? Identify yourselves.”
The warriors approaching the branch halted. One of them lowered the cloth covering his face and spoke.
“We are warriors from the Hua Shan Sect.”
“Hua Shan Sect?”
“Indeed. I am Yun Gyeong, a First-generation Disciple of Hua Shan.”
“Yun Gyeong? You truly hail from the Hua Shan Sect?”
The commander’s voice dropped slightly.
The position held by a First-generation Disciple of the Hua Shan Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects, was far from insignificant.
The commander had memorized the roster of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans, and he knew precisely where Yun Gyeong stood within Hua Shan’s hierarchy.
‘A disciple of Elder Mu Gyeong and successor to Hua Shan’s future leadership.’
Assuredly, within no distant time, Mu Gyeong would become Hua Shan’s Sect Leader. When that happened, Yun Gyeong would certainly become an Elder of Hua Shan.
To the commander, it was a station far beyond what he dared to regard.
Yun Gyeong tossed a proof token symbolizing his status as a disciple of Hua Shan Sect to the gatekeeper.
‘So it is true,’ he thought.
The gatekeeper’s expression shifted to one of recognition.
He returned the token respectfully and spoke. “Confirmed. Daoist Name Yun Gyeong. We received no word of your arrival in Sak Zhou. What brings you?”
“I was passing through Shanxi Province and thought to seek assistance, so I stopped by.”
“Assistance, you say?”
“I would prefer to explain the matter to the branch chief inside, if you don’t mind.”
“Ah!”
The gatekeeper, who had been speaking casually, suddenly flushed with embarrassment.
The man before him was certainly of the highest rank—an Elder of Hua Shan Sect. To keep such a person standing here after confirming his identity was a grave breach of courtesy.
“My apologies. I shall show you in at once.”
“Much obliged!”
Yun Gyeong followed the gatekeeper into the Sak Zhou branch, trailed by the Hua Shan disciples.
As they walked, Yun Gyeong surveyed the interior and nodded in approval. The warriors he glimpsed throughout the space carried themselves with sharp, alert eyes.
The gatekeeper escorted Yun Gyeong and his men to the Guest Hall.
“You may wait here comfortably.”
“Thank you!”
“Then!”
The gatekeeper hurried out, leaving only the Hua Shan disciples in the Guest Hall.
“Whew!”
Only then did Yun Gyeong release a long breath.
At this signal, the Hua Shan disciples unwound the cloth they had been holding over their mouths and noses.
“Ah!”
“This cold is relentless. I cannot fathom how anyone survives in such a place.”
The disciples spoke in low voices, one comment after another.
The journey here had forced them to endure a severity of cold that even Hua Shan had never tested them with, and the hardship was considerable.
As the Hua Shan disciples were still murmuring, the door opened and someone entered.
A slender, graceful woman of striking beauty. Yun Gyeong’s expression grew puzzled at the sight of this woman, who appeared to be only in her early twenties.
From what he understood, the branch chief of Sak Zhou was a warrior in his forties.
The woman performed a Fist Salute to Yun Gyeong.
“Hae So Wol of Haenam Sect bows to our honored guest.”
“Ah! So you are the lady Hae. I am Yun Gyeong of Hua Shan Sect.”
Yun Gyeong returned the Fist Salute.
The woman before him was a member of Gu Mu Yong, said to be the finest seedbed of talent in all the Jianghu. He had heard rumors last year that she had been dispatched to Shanxi Province, but he had not expected her to still be here.
Last summer, Hae So Wol had come to Sak Zhou on a mission to locate the stronghold of the Demon Cult. For months, she and her disciples had wandered the northern reaches of Shanxi Province.
But they had found no trace of the Demon Cult’s base. The disciples of Cho Yeon Yun and Baek Jeon Mun, who had been searching the southern regions, had fared no better.
After months of fruitless effort, they had intended to return directly to the Murim Alliance’s headquarters. But the situation changed when the Alliance decided to establish a branch in Sak Zhou.
The Murim Alliance ordered Hae So Wol to remain in Sak Zhou until the branch became stable. As a result, she found herself forced to endure the winter here against her wishes.
For Hae So Wol and the disciples of Haenam Sect, who had lived their entire lives in the warm south, the harsh rigors of the north had proven far from easy. Yet with the Demon Cult capable of striking at any moment, she could not refuse on personal grounds.
That was why Hae So Wol remained here now.
“Where is the branch chief, then? Surely not you handling his duties?”
“He is away temporarily, so I have taken his responsibilities in the interim.”
A bitter smile flickered across Hae So Wol’s lips.
She had lost count of how many months she had been wasting away in this place. But because the branch chief proved to be a man of limited capability, she remained shackled here.
She longed to wander the Jianghu freely as a swordswoman, but the world of the Jianghu kept imposing ever greater responsibilities upon her.
Composing herself, Hae So Wol asked, “But what brings Hua Shan to call without warning?”
“We require assistance with a matter, and I have come boldly to seek it.”
“If Hua Shan makes the request, we are of course obliged to help.”
“I wonder—might someone here know of a place called Cheong Ryoo Valley? We need to find it, but we are unfamiliar with the geography of these parts.”
“Cheong Ryoo Valley?”
Hae So Wol’s brow furrowed in thought.
The name sounded familiar, as if she had heard it spoken somewhere before.
After searching her memory for some time, Hae So Wol finally recalled where.
‘Cheong Ryoo Valley of Buk Gye Mountain.’
Hae So Wol’s eyes brightened.
Buk Gye Mountain was a fairly tall peak located on the outskirts of Sak Zhou. She had heard that a small valley in its northern reaches bore the name Cheong Ryoo Valley.
“You seem to know of it?”
“I have heard it mentioned.”

“Excellent. Will you guide us there?”
“Guiding you would not be difficult, but may I ask why you’re seeking Cheong Ryoo Valley?”
“Because there is someone we’re looking for in that place.”
“May I know who?”
“I cannot tell you yet. I’m not certain whether he’s there. But if he is, you’ll understand soon enough.”
“Very well. I shall guide you.”
“Thank you, Hae So Wol.”
Yun Gyeong bowed respectfully.
“Let’s go at once.”
Hae So Wol rose from her seat. With the branch leader absent, she had found herself confined to the branch headquarters far longer than she’d wished, and the confinement had begun to wear on her.
The moment Hae So Wol stepped outside the branch, she unfurled her Light Footwork. Yun Gyeong and the Hua Shan disciples followed suit, trailing behind her.
Cheong Ryoo Valley lay hidden deep within Buk Gye Mountain, so secluded that without a guide, one might wander for days without finding it.
Hae So Wol and the Hua Shan disciples made their way up the valley.
Winter had not yet ended, and everything lay bare and desolate, yet when spring came and flowers bloomed, this place would surely be beautiful.
‘Is Cheong Ryoo Valley really like this?’
Even Hae So Wol found herself marveling at the valley’s landscape.
One of the Hua Shan disciples pointed toward a sandy bank along the valley edge and cried out.
“There are signs of people here!”
Human footprints were scattered across the sand in confusion.
“Here too!”
Another disciple had found traces as well.
A low hum escaped Yun Gyeong’s lips.
“Hmm! Is he truly here?”
That was when it happened.
“Master Yun! There——!”
One of the disciples suddenly called out loudly. Following the direction he pointed, a fairly spacious clearing came into view.
In the clearing, about ten children were playing.
“Wahhh!”
The children’s lively voices echoed through the valley. And in their midst stood an old man whose face Yun Gyeong recognized.
“M-Master?”
Yun Gyeong’s voice rang out loudly through the valley. The old man lifted his head and looked toward Yun Gyeong.
The old man’s eyes trembled so noticeably that Yun Gyeong could discern it even from a distance.
“Yun Gyeong?”
“Master Hyun So.”
The old man’s Daoist name was Hyun So.

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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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