Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 40

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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 40. Rest to Go the Distance—3
“Mm!”
When Bang Jin-bo opened his eyes with a faint groan, the first thing he saw was Dam-ho’s face.
“Brother!”
“Are you all right?”
“What happened?”
“You collapsed.”
“Me?”
Bang Jin-bo shook his head slowly.
His head still throbbed. He remembered suffering through high fever, but couldn’t recall why he was here.
“You’re not fully recovered yet.”
“Brother! Thank you so much.”
Bang Jin-bo instinctively knew that Dam-ho had treated him.
Dam-ho rose from his seat with an impassive expression.
“Rest a while longer.”
“Yes.”
Dam-ho left the room, leaving Bang Jin-bo alone inside.
“How is the boy?”
Geum Gwan-cheon’s question drew a silent nod from Dam-ho, and relief washed across Geum Gwan-cheon’s face.
In Geum Gwan-cheon’s gaze fixed on Dam-ho burned a light of reverence.
To capture a Hong-rin Goe-eo was already a feat, yet Dam-ho had brought back one with an Inner Core. Though Geum Gwan-cheon knew little of the Murim, he understood that something capable of forming an Inner Core was no ordinary creature.
Even a common Hong-rin Goe-eo was difficult to catch; he could hardly imagine what capturing one that possessed an Inner Core would entail.
Dam-ho was the man who had caught such a creature. He was a being far beyond Geum Gwan-cheon’s ordinary comprehension.
“Rest now. I’ll bring some rice porridge for Jin-bo.”
A tray of porridge sat in Geum Gwan-cheon’s hands. As Dam-ho nodded, Geum Gwan-cheon entered the room where Jin-bo lay.
Dam-ho walked toward the vast, boundless grassland. He felt no fatigue. For the past twelve years, having lived in what seemed like hell itself, the journey to capture the Hong-rin Goe-eo had been neither particularly difficult nor remarkable to him.
Dam-ho seated himself on a flat stone that jutted suddenly from the grassland. At once, as if it had been waiting, Heuk-gwi approached.
Though they had traveled far, Heuk-gwi showed no signs of exhaustion. Dam-ho lay back on the stone and gazed up at the sky.
Clouds drifted swiftly across the endless expanse above. The feeling was quite different from the clouds he had seen at Hwa-san.
If Hwa-san had been somehow still, this place emanated a sense of dynamism.
Dam-ho suddenly reached his hand toward the sky. He made a gesture as if to grasp a cloud. But nothing came into his palm.
Dam-ho stared at his empty hand for a moment. Then his gaze fixed on a wound now faint with only traces remaining.
It was a wound he had inflicted on himself to catch the Hong-rin Goe-eo. A wound that could only be made after channeling Internal Force—it was already healing.
He couldn’t say when it started. Wounds began to close quickly, and eventually he barely bled at all.
Whether it was from physical conditioning or from the combination of moss and creatures he had eaten to survive in the Underground Cavern, Dam-ho could not say.
Back then, it was commonplace to suffer high fevers for days on end. Crossing the threshold between life and death dozens of times over, Dam-ho clung to survival with grim determination. With each threshold crossed, he grew stronger bit by bit, and at some point, pain ceased to touch him entirely.
From being isolated alone for so long, the boundary between good and evil had blurred. In the brief journey to reach this place, he had killed many. Yet he felt no guilt.
‘Am I still human?’
Dam-ho’s eyes grew dim.
The thought had simply arrived.
He had killed so many just reaching here, and if he were to cross Zhongyuan with Jin-bo, how many more would he have to kill?
When he was at Hwa-san, such actions were unimaginable. Yet now he could not turn back.
Whoosh!
At that moment, Heuk-gwi, bored perhaps, huffed hot breath across Dam-ho’s face. Thanks to this, Dam-ho could escape from his pointless ruminations.
Dam-ho was sitting up when it happened.
Far across the grassland, an enormous cloud of dust rose into the air. The dust cloud approached at tremendous speed toward the Jin Ma-jang where Dam-ho sat.
Dam-ho sharpened his Keen Sight and peered through the dust. Countless horses emerged, raising the cloud as they thundered forward.
Mounted riders circled the herd, their reins keeping the horses in formation as they advanced.
As they drew closer, the ground trembled beneath them.
Feeling the vibration, Geum Gwan-cheon opened the door and stepped outside.
“They’ve finally returned.”
Joy unmistakably gleamed in his eyes.
His children and horses, absent all winter from the Jin Ma-jang, were returning home. This was the moment Geum Gwan-cheon, who had guarded the ranch alone, had been waiting for.
“Father!”
The figure leading the procession cried out in a loud voice and rode forward. He was a middle-aged man astride a white horse without a single blemish.
Geum Gwan-cheon waved toward him.
“Jung-gwang!”
“Ha ha ha! Father, we’ve come home.”
The moment Geum Jung-gwang dismounted, he embraced Geum Gwan-cheon tightly. Geum Gwan-cheon closed his eyes and felt the warmth of his son.
“You must have worked hard. How is your health?”
“I’m in good health. There’s no need to worry.”
“And your wife and children?”
“They should arrive soon. They’ve all been missing you terribly.”
“I’ve missed them just as much.”
Geum Gwan-cheon smiled.
As Geum Jung-gwang enjoyed their reunion, his gaze shifted toward Dam-ho at his side.
“And who might this be?”
“A guest who visited when I grew lonely. One of his companions fell ill, so he’s been staying here for a while.”
“Is that so?”
Geum Jung-gwang approached Dam-ho and clasped his fist in greeting.
“I’m Geum Jung-gwang, the owner of this Jin Ma-jang. Since you’re Father’s guest, you’re my guest as well. Please, rest comfortably before you leave.”
“Thank you kindly!”
“No thanks needed! Ha ha ha! Today is a most joyous day. You must enjoy it with us!”
Geum Jung-gwang laughed heartily.
He seemed to possess a character as open and generous as his appearance suggested.
“Father!”
“Grandfather.”
Before his laughter had even faded, his family arrived in succession.
A composed-looking woman who appeared to be Geum Jung-gwang’s wife greeted Geum Gwan-cheon, and a dignified young man and a girl who looked scarcely more than thirteen quickly dismounted their horses.
“There you are! You’ve all come.”
“Grandfather, So-hye came too.”
“Oh, my dear child!”
Geum Gwan-cheon took his granddaughter into his arms. His face bloomed with a beatific smile.
It had been such a long time since they’d last seen each other—a moment he had anticipated with longing throughout the harsh winter.
Dam-ho watched the family’s reunion in silence. For the first time, something stirred in those eyes that had once seemed devoid of feeling.
Their joy awakened in him memories of a time he had nearly forgotten—a time when he too had known such happiness. But that time had ended as swiftly as a dream on a summer’s night.
Dam-ho knew all too well how easily the peace of ordinary life could vanish without warning.
He found himself silently wishing that such sorrow would never visit this family. One soul bearing such a burden was enough; the world need not create another.
Following Geum Jung-gwang’s family, a vast number of horses and workers poured into the stables.
“You’ve finally arrived.”
“Master, have you been well all this time?”
“You seem to grow younger with each passing year, Master.”
The workers greeted Geum Gwan-cheon, and he received each greeting with a warm smile.
Though they spent barely half the year together, they had maintained their bond across decades. It had long since transcended a mere employer-and-worker relationship—they felt like brothers to him.
“But tell me, what’s this handsome creature? One your father acquired?”
Geum Jung-gwang’s gaze had fixed upon Heuk-gwi.
Geum Gwan-cheon shook his head.
“This is the horse that Dam-ho rode in on.”
“Magnificent beast! I’d wager there’s Dae-wan-gu bloodline mixed in there.”
“I thought the same.”
The Dae-wan-gu was a horse breed originating from the Western Regions and the Dae-wan Kingdom—legendary creatures known as Heavenly Steeds, also called Cold-Blooded Horses. The ancient general Guan Yu’s own mount, the Jeok-to-ma, was said to have been a Dae-wan-gu of this caliber.
“If only we could secure breeding stock from a creature like this, it would be extraordinary.”
Undisguised longing flickered across Geum Jung-gwang’s face.
The stables generated revenue through the sale of horses. Naturally, the better the bloodline, the higher the price and the greater the profit.
For generations his family had run these stables, yet never once had they raised a horse to match the caliber of the one Dam-ho had ridden in on.
Geum Jung-gwang approached Dam-ho.
“Dam-ho!”
……
“Would it be possible, during your stay here, for us to arrange a breeding between one of our mares and your horse? I assure you the compensation would be substantial.”
Dam-ho’s eyes flickered with intensity.
The raw power in his gaze was so overwhelming that Geum Jung-gwang stumbled backward.
‘What kind of eyes are those……’
Only then did Geum Jung-gwang realize that the man before him was no ordinary person. Cold sweat began to trickle down his spine without his awareness.
Dam-ho’s gaze turned toward Geum Gwan-cheon, who stood behind Geum Jung-gwang.
He was the one who had allowed Bang Jin-bo to stay without asking for anything in return, the one who had cared for him.
“If the horse is willing.”
“Of course—I would absolutely never force it. Please, don’t worry. I will care for Heuk-gwi with the utmost diligence.”
Dam-ho nodded.
Only then did Geum Jung-gwang release a breath of relief.
Geum Gwan-cheon expressed his gratitude to Dam-ho.
“Thank you! I know that wasn’t an easy favor to ask.”
Dam-ho simply nodded in silence.
“Mister!”
Someone grasped Dam-ho’s hand.
Feeling the unfamiliar warmth, Dam-ho looked down to find Geum Gwan-cheon’s granddaughter gazing up at him.
A child with unusually large eyes—Geum So-hye.
“Mister, mister!”
Geum So-hye blinked her wide eyes and called to Dam-ho repeatedly.
“So-hye, you must show proper courtesy to our guest. That’s not how we behave.”
Her flustered mother tried to scold Geum So-hye, but the girl paid no mind, her small lips moving in protest.
“Mister, can’t I ride that horse too?”
Geum So-hye pointed to none other than Heuk-gwi.
Among the countless horses, Heuk-gwi stood out distinctly. Hundreds of horses kept their distance, cowed by his presence and authority.
‘How magnificent!’
Geum So-hye had grown up alongside horses since birth, so despite her young age, her eye for them rivaled any adult’s.
To those discerning eyes, Heuk-gwi was nothing short of magnificent.
Dam-ho gazed intently at Geum So-hye—at those large, dark eyes looking back at him without a trace of fear.
Dam-ho, who feared no one under heaven, found it strangely difficult to meet the gaze of this child.
Dam-ho turned his head away, looking toward Heuk-gwi.
Heuk-gwi stood as majestically as ever. Every other horse watched only for his slightest sign.
“Perhaps another time…….”
“Mister?”
Dam-ho released Geum So-hye’s hand.
The hand still carried the deep scent of blood. It had affected Bang Jin-bo as well.
But Geum So-hye, knowing nothing of this, watched Dam-ho’s retreating figure with eyes that threatened to spill tears at any moment.

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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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