Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 185

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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 184. The Age of Dragon and Tiger—3
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren was one of the current elders of the Hua Shan Sect, bearing the character Hyun. A naturally quiet man and the youngest among those bearing his generational character, he rarely appeared in any official capacity.
Because of this, few within the Hua Shan Sect beyond the First-generation Disciples even knew of his existence.
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren was a man who scarcely left the gates of Hua Shan in his daily life. Yet now he had not only departed those gates—he was lodging in Luoyang in Henan Province.
He stayed at the Huayang Inn, located near the south gate of Luoyang. The Huayang Inn was the largest and most luxurious inn in all of Luoyang, a place where the poor and wandering swordsmen dared not set foot.
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren was staying in the inn’s Separate Building.
“Sigh… I always thought I would never leave Hua Shan in my entire life.”
He exhaled a quiet breath.
“Do you have some worry on your mind, Master?”
Ho Gyeong, standing nearby, asked.
Ho Gyeong was Hyun Gwang the Zhenren’s only disciple. He too possessed a quiet disposition much like his master’s, and had accompanied him to serve his needs.
Ho Gyeong had spent his entire life on Hua Shan. This was his first time stepping beyond its gates.
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren gazed at Ho Gyeong with a benevolent smile.
“It is nothing. You are not uncomfortable here, are you?”
“Not at all.”
“I have dragged you along and made this inconvenient for you.”
“Not at all. I am actually happy to be here with you, Master.”
“Your words alone give me thanks.”
“They are not mere words.”
“I know.”
His disciple’s sincerity allowed Hyun Gwang the Zhenren to forget his cares for a moment.
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren had descended from Hua Shan and come to Luoyang specifically to make contact with the Shaolin Temple.
The Sect Master of Hua Shan, Hyun Cheon the Zhenren, desired closer cooperation with Shaolin Temple. The reasoning was that coordinating with Shaolin Temple—the towering pinnacle of the Murim—would allow them to respond to the Demon Cult more readily.
The key personnel of Hua Shan Sect were currently occupied with various critical duties and had no spare capacity. Thus they had sent the relatively unoccupied Hyun Gwang the Zhenren to discuss cooperation with Shaolin.
Ho Gyeong asked.
“Master, will we ascend to Shaolin Temple tomorrow, then?”
“We will not be ascending to Shaolin Temple.”
“Pardon?”
Ho Gyeong’s expression turned puzzled. He did not immediately understand.
“Shaolin will send someone to us.”
“Here, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I cannot say with certainty, but surely they would not send anyone of lesser importance?”
“Would it not be simpler if we simply ascended to Shaolin ourselves?”
“The Demon Cult’s gaze reaches even here. If they learn that Hua Shan is making contact with Shaolin, do you think they would remain idle?”
“I see.”
Only then did Ho Gyeong nod, as if understanding at last.
Having spent his entire life within the walls of Hua Shan, Ho Gyeong possessed a purity that was almost fragile. Because of this, he knew nothing of the world’s corruption or its machinations.
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren wished, if at all possible, to shield his own disciple from the taint of worldly affairs. Yet with the chaos that now gripped the land, he could not forever cling to such selfish desires. This regret weighed heavily upon him.
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren gazed out the window.
With the emergence of the Demon Cult, chaos had begun to grip every corner of the land. Yet Luoyang, as if a separate world unto itself, blazed like a city that never slept.
It was certainly more subdued than before, but countless people still wandered the night streets, drinking wine and indulging in pleasures.
This sight filled Hyun Gwang the Zhenren with a peculiar incomprehension. To a man who had spent his entire life on the mountain, such behavior among the common people seemed alien.
“By the way, have you heard that story?”
“What story do you mean?”
“About Senior Brother Yun Gyeong.”
“Hmm?”
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren tilted his head in puzzlement. Ho Gyeong continued.
“Senior Brother Yun Gyeong is said to be staying in Sakju.”
“Why would he be in Sakju? Could it be he is searching for Senior Brother Hyun So?”
“I cannot say for certain. I only know that he sent word that he would be staying there for some time.”
“Hmm.”
Hyun Gwang the Zhenren’s expression hardened.
Hyun So the Zhenren was his senior brother. Yet they had never been particularly close. It was simply that each served a different master, and both of them preferred to avoid entanglement with others.
Because of this, even knowing that Hyun So the Zhenren was taking Dam Ho as a disciple and facing difficulties, he had not stepped in to help. That sequence of inactions had left a weight upon his conscience.
“I wonder if he is faring well. I do hope nothing troublesome befalls him.”
“What could possibly happen to him? He is still an elder of Hua Shan Sect.”
“Yet he has not trained in martial arts, so he has not even the minimum means of self-defense, has he?”
“I wonder how Dam Ho ever came to be a disciple under such a person.”
Ho Gyeong knew of Dam Ho.
The Hua Shan disciple who limped.
The elders had rejected him, and the disciples mocked him.
Shamefully, Ho Gyeong was among them. Watching Dam Ho’s halting gait, he thought only that the cripple muddied Hua Shan’s waters.
Because of that, when Dam Ho never returned to Hua Shan thirteen years ago, Ho Gyeong felt no great regret. He had even forgotten that Dam Ho existed at all.
It was only a few months ago that Dam Ho, forgotten in the depths of memory, surfaced once more into the world.
A Martial Criminal named Gwang Hae had earned a dark reputation throughout Jianghu, toppling countless warriors—and he was none other than Dam Ho, the shame of the Hua Shan Sect.
At first, Ho Gyeong could not believe the rumor. But when Myeong Gyeong, the Hua Shan Sect’s greatest genius, admitted his defeat at Dam Ho’s hands, there was no choice but to believe.
Dam Ho, once despised by all, had become a supreme master of the highest order, recognized not only by Hua Shan but by the entire Murim.
Though he was hunted as a Martial Criminal and cast aside, the martial might that dominated the realm was undeniably real.
Hyun Gwang exhaled slowly.
“Alas! We were all wrong. How could those who walk the path of the Dao judge a person by mere appearance and reject him so thoroughly?”
“I am ashamed. I too kept my distance from Dam Ho based solely on what I saw.”
“And now, what face do we have to draw that child back to Hua Shan? I cannot fathom the Sect Leader’s thinking. Moreover, did not the Murim Alliance itself designate him a Martial Criminal?”
“Perhaps he believes such risks are acceptable. Besides, we do not fully trust the Murim Alliance in the first place.”
“True enough. People’s hearts shift like clouds, but I never thought Hua Shan would come to this.”
Hyun Gwang was shaking his head when—
Knock, knock.
Someone suddenly rapped at the door of the Separate Building.
The moment tension flashed across Hyun Gwang’s and Ho Gyeong’s eyes, a voice rang out.
“Hyun Gwang, I am Gwang Mun, come from Shaolin.”
“Gwang Mun?”
Hyun Gwang and Ho Gyeong exchanged glances.
The character “Gwang” indicated the elder generation rank of Shaolin.
Hyun Gwang hastened to open the door. An old monk appeared, his long white beard grown to his chest.
Nine crimson ordination marks adorned his forehead, and his eyes held a luminous wisdom.
Without explanation, one could instinctively sense that this old monk was a priest of Shaolin Temple.
“Amitabha Buddha! I am Hyun Gwang of Hua Shan. It is an honor to meet such an eminent master of Shaolin.”
“Eminent? I am unworthy of such praise. Properly, my elder brother Gwang Mun should have come, but he suffered an unforeseen injury, so I have come in his place.”
“Good heavens! What befell him?”
Gwang Hae answered with a bitter smile.
Unknown to the wider world, Shaolin Temple was now gravely wounded. Not long ago, intruders had struck, leaving not only the 108 Arhats but even Gwang Mun with severe internal injuries. And So Cheon, who was called Shaolin’s hope, lay under treatment for critical wounds.
The invaders numbered only two. Yet in truth, only one man—a single male warrior—had inflicted real damage upon Shaolin. Because of this, the temple now carried the atmosphere of a house in mourning.
Shaolin had deliberately chosen Luoyang as the meeting place to avoid displaying the sect’s wounded state.
Behind Gwang Hae, a dozen young monks were visible—first and second-generation disciples of Shaolin who had accompanied him. They regarded Hyun Gwang and Ho Gyeong with curious eyes.
Hyun Gwang turned to Ho Gyeong.
“Go outside and watch the Separate Building alongside them.”
“Yes, Master.”
Ho Gyeong bowed and stepped out.
It was his master’s kindness, offering him a chance to forge bonds with the young monks of Shaolin. Though Ho Gyeong by nature preferred quiet, he could not ignore such consideration from his teacher.
“Amitabha Buddha!”
Shaolin’s young monks greeted Ho Gyeong with warm smiles.
Once all the disciples had left, Hyun Gwang and Gwang Hae sat across from each other and began to consult.
These two represented their sects—Hua Shan and Shaolin. They began to convey their respective sect’s positions and coordinate their views.
Meanwhile, Ho Gyeong spoke with the Shaolin disciples at the entrance of the Separate Building.
“How fares Hua Shan? Being in the vanguard, you must feel considerable unease.”
“It is true. Given what transpired thirty years ago, we react with heightened sensitivity.”
“I see. The Demon Cult’s assaults grow fiercer by the day. It troubles us greatly.”
“But surely the Murim Alliance holds the line well? After all, it is a body where the strength of the entire Murim is united, whatever anyone says.”
“Amitabha Buddha!”
Whether Shaolin or Hua Shan, both harbored deep unease.
Above all, Ho Gyeong and the young disciples of Shaolin were still young. Young enough to brim with boldness, yet confronted with an unknowable future, their hearts could not help but shrink.
As they spoke thus in low voices—
“Forgive the intrusion, but is this the place where Shaolin and Hua Shan are holding their secret meeting?”
“Ah!”
The sudden voice startled Ho Gyeong and the Shaolin monks into shock.
Turning their heads, they saw an old man with crimson hair and crimson beard standing before them, smiling faintly.
Behind the old man stood more than a dozen martial artists.
“When did you—?”
Disbelief was written across Ho Gyeong’s face.
Although they had been conversing at leisure, they had not entirely closed their senses to the world. Yet the old man and his martial artists had crept to within arm’s reach, their approach masked as completely as if they had never been there at all.
If the old man had chosen it, they would already be as good as dead.
Ho Gyeong swallowed hard, forcing the words out.
“W-who are you, elder?”
“Heh heh! A junior with no manners, I see. Though it was I who asked the question first—whether Shaolin and Hua Shan were holding a meeting in this place.”
Ho Gyeong and the monks exchanged glances. At this, the old man broke into a wide smile.
“I seem to have asked something unnecessary. Look—there are shaven heads right before my eyes. Of course you’ve come from Shaolin Temple. And you others, you must be from Hua Shan Sect.”
The old man continued smiling. But the moment Ho Gyeong and the monks beheld that smile, they felt a nameless dread creep through them, and their bodies shuddered involuntarily.
They unfolded their lightness arts and retreated, crying out.
“Ambush!”
“Tsk! Truly, such rude fellows you are.”
The old man waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away an insect—a simple gesture, yet it carried within it a tremendous wave of internal force.
Crack!
The air tore open with violent impact.
“Ugh!”
“Gah!”
Ho Gyeong and the monks spewed blood, falling to one knee.
Black Heart Demon Hand—the name of the martial art the old man had unleashed.
It was an art passed down through a single lineage of transmission, and its power was formidable beyond measure.
“Ho Gyeong!”
“Hyun Cheon, So Cheon.”
Hyun Gwang and Gwang Hae burst forth.
Upon seeing their disciples collapsed on the ground, they wasted no time—each unleashed their ultimate technique toward the old man.
Plum Blossom Pure Heart Palm and Enemy Extermination Claw.
These were among the most formidable ultimate techniques within Hua Shan Sect and Shaolin Temple alike.
Boom!
Tremendous internal force erupted from the palms and claws of the two, surging toward the old man.
Bang!
Yet the martial arts they had deployed were easily shattered by the old man’s Black Heart Demon Hand.
“Hhgh!”
“Amitabha!”
They stumbled backward, their footfalls heavy. Deep footprints were gouged into the floor beneath them.
A luminous smile played across the old man’s face.
“Pointless resistance only multiplies your suffering.”
“Who are you?”
Hyun Gwang wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve as he spoke.
“And yet you ask, as though you did not already know?”
“The Demon Cult?”
“My name is On Sang Cheon.”
On Sang Cheon neither confirmed nor denied it. He merely smiled, enigmatic and thin.
From his response, Hyun Gwang knew with certainty that he was indeed a martial artist of the Demon Cult—for none else would have cause to ambush them.
On Sang Cheon spread both hands wide, and as he did, they turned black as ink. Sensing the ominous shift, Hyun Gwang and Gwang Hae exchanged a glance and joined their forces.
Boom!
A deafening roar shook through the Huayang Inn.

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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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