Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 39

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 39. Taking Rest to Travel Far—Part Two
“Ugh!”
Bang Jinbo stirred in his sleep, groaning softly. By now his body was drenched through with cold sweat.
Damho watched him in silence. Ever since returning from his massacre of Gyeongcheongsaeng and his men, Bang Jinbo had fallen ill.
High fever robbed him of consciousness more often than not, and sometimes he saw things that weren’t there. He’d retched so much that now only bile came up.
His eyes had lost all brightness, and sudden ringing in his ears sent him into convulsions. Once unconscious, he sometimes didn’t wake for three or four days.
Bang Jinbo was fading, bit by bit. If time continued to pass without any intervention, he would fail to recover his vital energy and would simply die.
Damho hadn’t told Bang Jinbo that he’d killed them. But Bang Jinbo had sensed it instinctively—because of the foul killing aura that clung to Damho’s body.
When a man takes a life, both killing aura and murderous intent seep into his flesh. Damho was no exception.
Yet Damho’s body and spirit were strong enough that he remained unaffected. Bang Jinbo was different. Bang Jinbo was just an ordinary boy.
He’d never studied martial arts, his willpower was no stronger than anyone else’s—the kind of youth you could find anywhere. Precisely because he was so ordinary, he couldn’t bear the killing aura and murderous intent radiating from Damho’s frame.
Damho studied Bang Jinbo’s sleeping face, then stepped outside.
Where he and Bang Jinbo were staying was a sizeable Horse Ranch located not far from Hapbil.
It was no ordinary ranch—the place where horses were actually reared. During spring and summer the people here stayed put, but when autumn came they migrated south with their herds to escape the cold.
Only a skeleton crew remained at the Horse Ranch to maintain it. The owner had given Damho and Bang Jinbo the Guest House, which was used to accommodate visitors.
The Guest House sat on the ranch’s perimeter, making it wonderfully isolated.
A soft whinny cut through the air.
As Damho stepped out, Heukgwi approached him.
Heukgwi didn’t stray from Damho’s side even when untethered.
At that moment, someone drew near.
“What a magnificent animal. I’ve worked at this ranch my whole life, but I’ve never seen one this fine.”
The old man marveling aloud was Geumgwancheon, the Horse Ranch’s owner. He was a native of this land, having built the place over a lifetime, but now he’d passed everything to his son and managed the ranch alone.
Spring had come, so his children and their herds should be returning soon. He waited for their return.
Geumgwancheon’s age belied the pure light in his eyes as he gazed at Damho and Heukgwi.
Damho patted Heukgwi’s shoulder and looked toward Geumgwancheon.
“Thank you for letting us stay.”
“The boy is ill, isn’t he? It’s the least I could do.”
Geumgwancheon smiled.
It was a warm, entirely selfless smile.
“But what will we do if the boy doesn’t recover?”
“Is there a physician nearby?”
“As you can see, it’s endless grassland—there’s no physician for a hundred miles.”
At the manager’s reply, Damho’s brow furrowed.
Those who reached a certain level of martial mastery could channel their inner qi into another’s body to restore their vital energy. But Damho could not.
The inner qi he’d accumulated through the Dark Soul Heart Technique was far too wild and destructive. The moment it entered Bang Jinbo’s body, his heart meridians would tear apart.
Then Geumgwancheon spoke.
“There is one way, though.”
“……”
“Have you ever heard of the Honglinquaiae?”
Damho shook his head. Geumgwancheon nodded as if he’d expected as much.
“You’ve likely never heard the name before. Few people here know of it either. I myself saw one only once, long ago.”
“……”
“If you travel north from here about five hundred leagues, you’ll reach the Red River. The soil is so red that even clear water appears crimson. Deep within those waters lives the Honglinquaiae—a creature that excels above all others at restoring a person’s vital energy. Catch one and stew it well, then feed it to him, and he’ll bounce back in no time.”
“Five hundred leagues north?”
“Yes. Finding the path shouldn’t be too difficult, I think. The real problem is that this creature is both elusive and vicious—catching it is no small feat. A full-grown one reaches nearly half a man’s height, making it nearly a monster. Because of that, the people living near there treat the Honglinquaiae as a spirit beast and refuse to even approach the river.”
Geumgwancheon continued to explain everything he knew about the Honglinquaiae to Damho in detail.
“I’ll ask you to look after the boy while I’m gone.”
“Don’t worry yourself. Even a stray animal that finds its way to my door I couldn’t turn away—how much less a person’s child. I’ll care for him well. I only hope you’ll manage to catch the Honglinquaiae.”
“Mm.”
Damho mounted Heukgwi without hesitation, without a moment’s doubt or a shadow of uncertainty.
Geumgwancheon watched him go with admiration.
‘This man is the type who acts the instant he decides.’
Countless people move through the world, but few among them translate thought into action. And among those few, even fewer possess the strength and ability to make their desires reality.
Geumgwancheon suspected Damho belonged to that rarest breed. The feeling was strong and clear.
Heukgwi burst forward at a terrifying pace.
Heat shimmered in waves from the horse’s entire body, as if heat-haze were rising into the air itself.
Damho and Heukgwi became one.
Five hundred leagues was a considerable distance. Yet Damho harbored no great worry. He had Heukgwi.
At Heukgwi’s full speed, he could reach the Red River where the Honglinquaiae dwelled before noon the next day. The real question was whether Bang Jinbo would endure until then.
‘Hold on.’
After a full day and night of hard riding, Damho arrived at the Red River that the administrator had mentioned.
Whinnying!
Heukgwi snorted heavily, exhausted. Damho stroked the creature’s mane.
“You’ve done well. Rest now.”
From here on, the work was his alone.
Damho released Heukgwi to roam freely and approached the Red River’s edge.
Just as Geumgwancheon had said, both the water and the surrounding soil were the color of blood. Because of it, what should have been clear river water appeared entirely crimson.
Damho knelt on one knee and plunged his hand into the current.
It was bitterly cold. Though the wind carried the promise of spring, the river water itself seemed still trapped in winter’s grip.
Damho rose and surveyed the river.
The Red River was vast and stretched on endlessly—precisely the sort of place where a Honglinquaiae could thrive.
The real question was where in this river it lived. First, he needed to find its haunt.
Damho’s eyes scanned the surface with predatory intensity.
Drip. Drip.
Blood streamed from the object in his hand—a goose he’d hunted nearby.
He cast the goose into the water and waited. He’d swept the entire length of river before arriving, but found no trace of the Honglinquaiae. Finding one hidden in the depths seemed nearly impossible.
Yet Damho did not give up. He hunted ducks and geese from the nearby shore, threw them into the river, and watched for any response.
It was grueling work, but he persisted. This was already the twentieth attempt.
After a long wait, the surface remained unchanged. Just as Damho was about to move to another spot—
Bubble! Bubble!
Suddenly foam began rising on the water’s surface.
Damho’s eyes sharpened with focus.
Splash!
An enormous spray erupted as something massive burst from the depths. It was a monstrous fish, nearly the length of a man.
Its surface bore bright crimson scales, as though a giant snakehead had been enlarged beyond all reason.
Damho knew instinctively that this was the Honglinquaiae. His reflection gleamed in its vast pupils.
The Honglinquaiae disappeared back into the water with the goose still in its jaws, moving with unhurried grace. Everything had happened so quickly, and in the river’s center, that Damho had no chance to act.
Yet disappointment did not touch him. Simply knowing its feeding ground was a victory.
The question now was how to catch it.
As he had seen the creature, so too had it seen him.
Success or failure would depend entirely on how it judged him.
Damho gathered branches and driftwood along the riverbank.
He wove together useless scraps of timber into a crude raft, and carved a sturdy piece of wood—thick as a man’s forearm—into a wooden spear.
After rough preparations, Damho poled his raft out to the river’s center. There, in the middle of the small vessel, he sat in cross-legged meditation.
And he waited with his eyes closed.
One hour passed, then two. He waited until evening fell, but the water showed no sign of change.
Normally, rivers and their banks teemed with life.
Insects, fish, wild beasts drawn by water.
But here—not a whisper of it. Insects did not sing. Beasts did not venture near. Even common fish left no trace. Only silence remained.
The Honglinquaiae devoured everything that approached. This was its domain, which is why no other creature dared to trespass.
According to the administrator, several Honglinquaiae inhabited this place. Yet now, Damho sensed only the single massive one from before.
One fact alone spoke to this.
‘Has it devoured all of its own kind?’
The creature he’d seen was easily four times larger than what the administrator had called a monster. At that size, calling it a true monster would be no exaggeration.
It did not move. But Damho knew the truth: it was watching him.
It too was deliberating. How to dispose of this fearless human who had entered its domain.
Damho was the first living thing to enter its territory in a long time. Naturally, hunger stirred within it. Yet it hesitated to strike—held back by something ominous that radiated from Damho’s very being.
Damho realized that at this moment, he could not easily draw it out. He needed a stronger lure.
He drew a short sword from his robes and cut his arm.
Scrape!
The razor-sharp blade only rang against the steel of his skin without leaving so much as a scratch. Damho had no choice but to channel his inner force into the cut.
Only then did a wound open and blood spill. He did not stop the bleeding, instead submerging his arm in the river.
His blood dispersed into the current. Though the amount was small, it was enough to lure the Honglinquaiae.
Ripple!
Concentric waves spread across the surface—so subtle that an ordinary person would never notice.
Damho opened his eyes.
His gaze had grown heavy and profound.
Whoosh!
Water erupted as the Honglinquaiae shot upward. Its enormous jaws opened wide—’Crunch!’—aimed straight at Damho.
The creature could not resist the lure of blood scent and had launched its attack.
An attack laden with tremendous weight befitting the creature’s massive frame—a sheer oppressive force that no living thing could withstand bore down upon Damho.
In that instant, Damho hurled himself into the air.
Bang!
His knee struck the creature’s head, narrowly avoiding the Honglinquaiae’s gaping maw. The creature’s head snapped backward.
The violent impact caught the beast off guard, its eyes reeling. In that moment, it understood instinctively that Damho was no ordinary prey.
The Honglinquaiae meant to flee into the depths. But Damho would not allow it.
Crack!
His fist, already pressed against its body, shattered through the creature’s hardened scales and drove deep into soft flesh.
The Honglinquaiae thrashed violently, its eyes wild with pain and terror. It fought desperately to dislodge Damho and escape into the water.
Splash!
The creature bolted toward the depths in frantic desperation. But Damho’s fist, now buried in its flesh, would not relent.
Clinging to the creature’s flank, Damho was dragged down into the river’s fathomless darkness.
The swift current and crushing pressure closed around him. Yet Damho held firm, never loosening his grip.
Water and depths held no terror for a hunter who had stalked creatures like this through underground caverns until the very act had become second nature. He understood the river’s nature intimately, and he knew precisely how to kill such a beast.
Damho raised the Wooden Spear high above his head.
Inner Force drawn from the Dark Soul Divine Technique surged into the weapon. In a single motion, he drove the spear downward with all his strength.
Crunch!
The spear pierced deep into the creature’s body, leaving only the haft exposed.
The Honglinquaiae convulsed wildly.
Boom!
Damho’s fist struck the creature’s skull with devastating force.
The impact erupted like a thunderbolt detonating beneath the surface, sending a tremendous spray of water skyward as the entire river ran even deeper red.
Moments later, Damho broke the surface. He emerged with one hand clamped around the creature’s gills, dragging it from the water.
The Honglinquaiae’s great head was simply gone—annihilated without trace.
Thump!
Damho cast the enormous Honglinquaiae onto the bank with casual ease. It landed limp, not a single scale twitching.
Now all that remained was to carry it back. Yet a problem presented itself: the creature was simply too vast. The caretaker had mentioned simmering the Honglinquaiae whole, but no pot in existence could contain a specimen of this magnitude.
After pondering the matter briefly, Damho decided to take his chances and split open the creature’s belly.
Squelch!
Among the entrails, a small stone-like object tumbled free.
‘Its Inner Core.’
A spiritual creature of this size would certainly cultivate an Inner Core within its body. Though the Core had not yet reached full maturity judging by its size, it possessed sufficient potency to heal Bang Jinbo’s ailment.
Now there remained only the journey home.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————