Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 20

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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 20. Rising from the Fall—Part 2
“We’ve arrived.”
Im Horyeong had led his group to a desolate ravine five days’ journey from Napo Bakho. The barren expanse, where not a single blade of grass took root, exhaled an atmosphere of deep foreboding.
Cheongeo Jinsa tilted his head.
“Are you certain this is the enemy’s base?”
“Certain. I’ve verified it with my own eyes.”
“Hmm.”
Cheongeo Jinsa let out a low hum at Im Horyeong’s resolute answer.
A place where people dwell always carries its own particular atmosphere. Yet here, no trace of human habitation—no lingering presence—could be felt at all.
‘Either Horyeong has misread the signs, or the enemy has covered their tracks with meticulous care.’
Cheongeo Jinsa leaned toward the latter explanation.
Im Horyeong was a man driven by bitter hatred. It seemed unlikely he would have led them astray.
“I watched with my own eyes as the enemy carried goods from Bukro Merchant Guild into this ravine.”
“Then their base must lie deeper within, far beyond the ravine’s mouth.”
“That much I’m certain of.”
“Understood.”
Cheongeo Jinsa turned to face the Wudang disciples.
“All of you have heard. The remnants of the Demonic Cult may yet linger here—proceed with extreme vigilance.”
“Yes!”
The Wudang disciples answered in unison.
Yeom Junghwa addressed his own Songnan disciples.
“We stand with Wudang in this. Han Su, you bear responsibility for protecting the disciples.”
“Understood.”
Mu Gyeong issued his own warnings to the Huashan disciples, commanding their utmost caution.
Leading the way, the Wudang disciples advanced into the nameless ravine, followed by those of Songnan and Huashan.
As they penetrated deeper into the ravine’s bowels, the atmosphere grew steadily more oppressive. With scarcely any light filtering through, it seemed as if night itself had fallen around them.
Then one of the Wudang disciples pointed to the ground and spoke.
“There. Cart wheel marks.”
As he said, the earth bore scattered traces where wheels had passed.
With this, Im Horyeong’s words were vindicated. Without doubt, those who had attacked Bukro Express House were here.
A gleam of excitement kindled in the eyes of several younger martial artists. They began to whisper among themselves.
“The Demonic Cult, no less. This is truly exhilarating.”
“If we distinguish ourselves here, our names will echo through the Jianghu.”
“I’ll cleave any Cult lackey in two with a single stroke. Hah!”
Not only Wudang, but the younger martial artists of Songnan and Huashan alike burned with excitement.
Hyeonso Jinsa, hearing their whispers, furrowed his brow.
These were a generation that had never confronted the Demonic Cult; they seemed to harbor little true fear.
Those who had lived through the Cult’s terror understood how terrifying they were, but those who had not could not yet grasp that dread.
‘I hope none of them commit rash folly.’
Hyeonso Jinsa’s expression grew anxious as he sought out Dam Ho—worried whether he too might be caught up in their fervor.
Yet the moment his eyes found Dam Ho’s face, Hyeonso Jinsa realized his concern had been needless.
Dam Ho’s gaze lay deep and still. No glimmer of excitement showed anywhere in his features.
He moved cautiously, keeping pace with the group while never straying more than two paces from Hyeonso Jinsa’s side.
Then one of Huashan’s second disciples approached him and whispered.
“Master, would it not be better if you held back and let us advance? That way you won’t obstruct us in our confrontation with the enemy.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you stand in front, master, it may hinder us as we engage the foe.”
His voice was exquisitely polite. Yet the intent beneath those words was anything but.
In the instant Dam Ho’s eyes narrowed, a voice like frozen steel cut through the air.
“Won Ho, speak no more foolishness. Do you dare insult the standing of our Sect Leader?”
The voice belonged to Un Gyeong.
Won Ho flinched, his face draining of color.
“I, I would never—”
“Step back.”
“Yes!”
Won Ho bowed and retreated, while Un Gyeong watched him disappear into the crowd with a cold, measured gaze.
Once Won Ho had vanished among the others, Un Gyeong turned to look at Dam Ho.
“Do you see? This is your place in Huashan. Do not let them underestimate you again.”
“I will… bear it in mind.”
Dam Ho’s voice emerged fractured, barely held together.
Un Gyeong slipped past Dam Ho and took his place beside Mu Gyeong. Mu Gyeong clicked his tongue.
“You’re too cold about it, that’s the problem.”
Mu Gyeong cast a sideways glance at Dam Ho, his expression betraying concern for any wounds the other might have sustained. But Dam Ho’s stolid face remained unchanged, revealing nothing of what lay beneath.
In truth, Dam Ho had barely heard Won Ho’s words at all. Or rather, he’d had no leisure to. From the moment they’d entered the Ravine, his senses had grown unnaturally sharp and alert, and his mood had sunk accordingly.
‘What is this?’
Doubt flickered across Dam Ho’s face in that instant.
Whistle-whistle-whish!
Suddenly a piercing sound of projectiles cut through the air.
“Argh!”
“Ambush!”
The gathering descended into chaos. In the confusion, several martial artists fell, blood spraying from their bodies as Projectile Weapons embedded in their flesh.
“Everyone stay calm.”
Cheongeo Jinsa and Yeom Junghwa stepped forward, deflecting the projectiles and shouting orders. As they moved, the panic began to subside.
“Who are these dogs?”
Cheongeo Jinsa stood shielding his disciples and bellowed the question. At that, black-clad figures emerged from various points in the Ravine. Every one of them bore a tunic embroidered with a burning flame across the chest.
Cheongeo Jinsa’s expression twisted.
“Can it truly be the Demonic Cult?”
……
But the attackers gave no answer, instead drawing their weapons in unison.
Im Horyeong cried out as he saw them.
“It’s them! They’re the ones who raided the Bukro Express House and stole the shipments!”
Im Horyeong had already drawn his weapon and was charging toward the attackers. Cheongeo Jinsa’s voice rang out.
“Subdue them!”
“Hyaaaah!”
The martial artists of the Wudang Sect surged forward, and simultaneously the fighters from Huashan and Songnan moved into action.
Hyeonso Jinsa closed his eyes.
“Is it truly the Demonic Cult? Original Celestial Worthy, I beseech you…….”
Dam Ho watched the battlefield unfold.
Before his eyes, the martial artists of the Wudang Sect, Huashan Sect, and Songnan Sect were locked in combat with those presumed to be remnant members of the Demonic Cult.
Cheongeo Jinsa’s swordplay was nothing short of miraculous.
Whisk!
Each time his blade clove the air, someone invariably fell, blood scattering.
The martial artists of Wudang fought valiantly in his wake. Among them, the one who stood out most brilliantly was Yeon Soha.
She deployed the Wudang Sword with dazzling footwork.
Clang-clang-ring!
Blade met blade, and sparks flew in all directions.
The violent impact contorted Yeon Soha’s expression.
Though she had grown steadily under Cheongeo Jinsa’s instruction, this was her first taste of true combat.
Swish!
Blood erupted from her opponent’s shoulder.
She had felled many trees, but this was the first time she had drawn blood from a human being. The chilling sensation made her stomach churn, but Yeon Soha forced herself to endure it.
On the verge of tears, she committed every ounce of her strength to the fight. Spurred by the sight of her struggle, the martial artists of Wudang gave their utmost as well.
“You bastards! Reveal your identity!”
Yeom Junghwa unleashed the Cheonha Sword, the signature technique of Songnan, and pressed his opponent hard. His blade carried a vicious killing intent.
Crunch-tear!
One of the attackers fell without even a scream, his body sundered at the waist.
The savage killing power infused in his swordplay was so overwhelming that even the martial artists of Wudang and Huashan on his own side held their breath.
‘So this is Songnan’s blade.’
Dam Ho committed the sight of Yeom Junghwa’s sword to memory.
Meanwhile, the martial artists of Huashan, led by Mu Gyeong and Un Gyeong, were also engaging the enemy.
Seven of them formed pairs and deployed the Seven Star Sword Formation.
“All of you, maintain the formation.”
Un Gyeong commanded from the center, his voice steady despite the chaos of the melee.
Since their sect consisted of younger martial artists compared to the others, he had no choice but to be cautious. Should he lose his composure, the disciples executing the Seven Star Sword Formation would follow suit. For that reason, Un Gyeong strove to keep his emotions in check and maintain a clear, cold judgment.
While Un Gyeong commanded the Seven Star Sword Formation, Mu Gyeong was facing an attacker directly.
True to his position as First Disciple of Huashan, he displayed formidable martial prowess. The Taiqing Sword Technique, which normally only a master of elder rank or above could freely employ, blossomed under his hands.
Whisk!
Through this encounter, Mu Gyeong was proving that Huashan yet lived.
Splatter!
His opponent’s blood sprayed across Mu Gyeong’s face.
Mu Gyeong’s face twisted in anguish. As the First Disciple of Huashan Sect, he had steeled himself to the knowledge that one day he would have to cut someone down—but he’d never imagined the act itself would turn his stomach like this, leaving him chilled to the bone.
Mu Gyeong clenched his teeth.
‘Original Celestial Worthy, I beseech you—forgive this disciple his killing. All of this is done for the peace of Jianghu.’
It was all for Huashan.
Once this venture into Jianghu was over, the disciples of Huashan would grow stronger still.
In the midst of all the demons tearing wildly at each other, there stood Hyeonso Jinsa and Dam Ho.
The two of them were a reserve force, those who needed protecting.
Everyone thought the same, and so they kept the two of them in the center, shielded. The Second Disciples, including Won Ho, took on that duty.
‘Is… is this what real Jianghu combat looks like?’
Won Ho and the other Second Disciples trembled as they watched the battle unfold before their eyes.
The pride they’d carried as martial artists of Huashan, the martial skills they’d honed so carefully—none of it came to mind. It was as though their heads had emptied out, leaving them dizzy and unmoored.
“Aaaah!”
“Help me!”
The screams of the dying bored through their eardrums.
They wanted to weep. They wanted to hide. But they couldn’t—and that helplessness was all the sadder for it.
Then someone approached where they stood.
One of the attackers. But there was something different about this one from the others.
They were far smaller in build, and an icy chill seemed to radiate from them.
The masked attacker rushed toward where Hyeonso Jinsa and the Huashan disciples were positioned.
Tap, tap!
In barely two bounding leaps, the attacker closed the distance to the Huashan disciples in an instant.
“B—block them!”
Won Ho shouted.
The Huashan disciples tried to unfold the Seven Star Sword Formation. But the attacker was faster.
Crash-crash-crash-bang!
The attacker’s hands seemed to split into dozens of fragments, erupting outward in all directions.
“Guh!”
“Hack!”
The Seven Star Sword Formation collapsed in an instant, and the Second Disciples went flying in all directions. Before anyone could react, the attacker was already at Won Ho’s throat.
Whoosh!
The attacker’s hand lashed out like a viper toward Won Ho’s neck. Won Ho forgot entirely that he should have drawn his sword—he simply squeezed his eyes shut in terror.
Bang!
A thunderous sound exploded, and Won Ho’s body jolted backward. But he felt no pain.
Won Ho cautiously opened his eyes. And there before him unfolded a sight he could scarcely believe.
“M—master?”

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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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