Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 5

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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 5. Where Change Exists, So Too Does the Unchanging—Part 2
Dam Ho stepped outside.
His face had grown quite pale over the past few days. He had secluded himself completely, absorbed in the Zhongtan Heart Sutra.
He had memorized the Zhongtan Heart Sutra perfectly after reading it only two or three times. Yet Dam Ho did not stop there—he read it repeatedly, again and again.
During all the time Dam Ho devoted himself to the Zhongtan Heart Sutra, Hyeon So’s training hall never once opened its doors. He knew Dam Ho had entered a Samadhi State.
When Dam Ho emerged, his expression looked remarkably refreshed. For in the Zhongtan Heart Sutra, he had glimpsed a certain possibility—one he had long sought.
There was still nothing certain about it. There was no guarantee he would achieve what he desired. Yet the mere existence of even a glimmer of hope set his heart racing.
“Ahhh!”
Dam Ho breathed in deeply, drawing the clean mountain air into his lungs.
“Disciple!”
A clear, graceful voice suddenly rang out.
As he turned, he saw a woman of elegant bearing. On all of Huashan, there was but one woman who carried such an air.
“Master.”
It was Han So Yoo.
She approached him.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, nothing at all.”
“Then why have you been nowhere to be seen?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You used to traverse Huashan every single day. These past few days, you’ve vanished. I was worried about you.”
“Ah—I had matters to attend to.”
“Is that so? You’re not ill, are you?”
“No, I assure you.”
Han So Yoo gazed directly into Dam Ho’s eyes. He did not look away. At this, she smiled.
“It seems you’re telling the truth. I’m relieved.”
“Is that why you came to see me?”
“I had news to share, so I thought I’d stop by. You haven’t heard yet, have you?”
“Heard what?”
“It seems no one has told you after all.”
A faint crease appeared between Han So Yoo’s brows. She gazed toward Yeonhwa Peak with an expression of mild displeasure.
“Disciple.”
“Ah, I apologize. All the First Generation Disciples are to gather at Jinmu Palace soon.”
“Jinmu Palace?”
Jinmu Palace was the symbol of the Huashan School’s martial power. Every disciple of the Huashan School dreamed of entering those halls. Yet the threshold of Jinmu Palace was high and narrow—it did not admit just anyone.
Even among the First Generation Disciples, only a select few were permitted to come and go. Dam Ho, of course, was not yet among them.
“But why Jinmu Palace?”
“The Jade Sword has finally emerged from seclusion. He has commanded that all First Generation Disciples be gathered.”
Han So Yoo’s face flushed slightly—a sign of her excitement.
Jin In, the Jade Sword, was the master of Jinmu Palace. And he was universally acknowledged as the foremost swordsman of this age.
Six years ago, he had entered closed retreat to organize his insights. It was before Dam Ho had even joined the Huashan School. For that reason, Dam Ho had only heard tales of the Jade Sword and had never seen him in person.
The one who had comprehended the ultimate Way of the Huashan blade.
When his sword unfolds in his hands, it is said that plum blossoms bloom in full splendor.
Some whispered.
That the current Jade Sword possessed martial power comparable to the Heavenly Palace Master of three years past.
Such was the regard in which the Jade Sword was held.
“He himself commanded the disciples to gather?”
“Yes!”
“But for what purpose?”
“He likely intends to impart his Martial Insights to us disciples.”
Han So Yoo’s face glowed with fervent anticipation.
To receive instruction from the Jade Sword, the supreme swordsman of Huashan, was akin to a great opportunity granted by fortune itself. For this reason, the entire Huashan School was now astir with excitement.
“It’s not just the First Generation Disciples either. Later, he plans to meet with the Second Generation Disciples and even the Outer Disciples separately.”
“Ah!”
“So you must prepare yourself well. Who knows? If you catch his eye, he might impart Martial Insights suited to you.”
Her words carried great significance.
Dam Ho nodded silently in response. At his composed reaction, Han So Yoo let out a soft laugh.
“You really are taciturn, aren’t you? Well, I should go. I’ll send someone to fetch you when the time comes. See you then.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Han So Yoo waved her hand as she departed into the distance.
Dam Ho watched her receding figure for a long while.
Han So Yoo was one of the few people among the many disciples of Huashan School who saw him as he truly was. Her eyes held no glimmer of pity, no shadow of condescension. She regarded him simply as a fellow disciple of Huashan, nothing more or less. For that, he was grateful.
“The Profound Sword Master…”
Dam Ho gazed toward the summit of Undae Peak. Hidden behind dense vegetation, he could not see it directly, but somewhere up there stood Jinmu Palace. And somewhere within that palace dwelt Jin In.
He had no way of knowing what teachings Jin In might impart, but Dam Ho lacked the mental energy to dwell on it now.
The meeting with Jin In was something that had not yet come to pass—there was no sense in letting anticipation scatter his focus prematurely.
Dam Ho first fastened a Sand Pouch around his left ankle. This was the work he had abandoned when he unexpectedly obtained the Zhongtan Heart Sutra—he intended to resume climbing and descending Huashan.
Weighted with the Sand Pouch, he descended the mountain. Making one’s way down the sheer gorges of Huashan proved far more treacherous than climbing. A single misstep could mean a fatal plunge.
The path that taxed even able-bodied men, Dam Ho traversed at great speed. His compromised leg was no impediment.
Five years of grueling effort had honed his sense of balance to an extraordinary degree. Thanks to this, Dam Ho made his descent safely.
He paused to steady his breath. Once his breathing had begun to settle, he started climbing again.
Descending required exquisite balance; ascending demanded iron legs and lung capacity. Dam Ho gritted his teeth and climbed, step by agonizing step.
Time elapsed. His entire body was drenched with sweat. The Sand Pouch on his left ankle made the ascent even harder, yet Dam Ho did not relent.
By the time he reached his dwelling, he was utterly spent. He collapsed on the ground, gasping for air in ragged heaves.
“Hah—hah—hah—”
His mouth tasted of blood. His heart felt as though it might burst. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony. Yet Dam Ho forced himself to rise.
Once his breathing had steadied, he twisted and stretched his body, loosening the tension. Still in this exhausted state, he resolved to practice forms.
The first technique he deployed was the Bamboo Leaf Hand. Any disciple of Huashan School aspiring to martial mastery learned it first.
He began with the opening sequence of the Bamboo Leaf Cutting Sky.
Whissh!
The Bamboo Leaf Hand as Dam Ho executed it was razor-sharp. His palms sliced through the air as his torso spun like a top.
Next came the Flying Leaf Thousand Miles.
His hand movements flowed like waves, yet the momentum they generated was unmistakably cutting, merciless.
Whoosh!
The final sequence was Leaf Pierce Sun, the last posture of the Bamboo Leaf Hand. Dam Ho’s hands carved through empty space like lightning.
As he performed the Bamboo Leaf Hand, his movements were graceful. Yet the sharp force radiating outward cut like a blade.
His body returned to the beginning. He executed the opening sequence, Bamboo Leaf Cutting Sky, once more.
The air shimmered as the second posture, Flying Leaf Thousand Miles, flowed seamlessly into the third, Leaf Pierce Sun.
Dam Ho lost himself in the rhythm, repeating the Bamboo Leaf Hand over and over, unaware of time’s passage.
The Bamboo Leaf Hand’s greatest virtue was that it required no special footwork to execute. At first, Dam Ho kept both feet planted firmly, moving not at all, simply flowing through the hand forms.
When the Bamboo Leaf Hand reached its peak intensity, Dam Ho carefully began to shift his feet.
One step forward. One step back.
A simple, monotonous shuffling—hardly what one could call refined footwork. Using his injured left foot as a brace, he stepped forward with his right. Had the elders of Huashan seen this crude, limping gait, they would have issued harsh censure. But for Dam Ho now, this was his best effort.
Thud!
Each time he planted his left foot, his face twisted slightly.
The visible wounds had healed, it seemed, yet pain still radiated from within. Dam Ho gritted his teeth and pushed the ache from his mind.
‘This much pain will not stop me.’
He drove his left foot down with renewed force.
Thud!
In that instant, his momentum shifted.
The Bamboo Leaf Hand transformed into the Tiger Pounce Fist. The sharp, cutting force gave way to something heavier, more brutal.
The Tiger Pounce Fist was modeled after a tiger’s movements. Nowadays it was known as a mere foundational technique practiced mainly by Outer Disciples, yet in truth, it was a supremely crafted fist art.
Dam Ho had wondered about it.
‘Is a tiger’s only weapon its fangs and claws? Is rending and slashing all it can do?’
He thought not.
‘That massive body is the tiger’s ultimate weapon. The awe and crushing weight of that frame hurling through the air—that is what leaves prey paralyzed with terror. If so, the Tiger Pounce Fist must not merely swing the limbs about, but harness every fiber of the human body to its fullest.’
Whoosh!
Dam Ho’s fist carved through the air.
To unleash the Tiger Pounce Fist’s full ferocity required iron-hard legs. They had to absorb the tremendous recoil such power generated.
Still his footwork remained unchanged—forward, then back in swift retreat.
When the Tiger Pounce Fist reached its zenith, his movements suddenly exploded. His fists extended in all directions at once.
The Six Unity Fist.
Alongside the Bamboo Leaf Hand and Tiger Pounce Fist, it formed the trinity of Huashan’s foundational boxing arts. The transitions were simple, lacking variation, but the ferocity compressed within was overwhelming.
Lost in his exertion, Dam Ho threaded the three boxing techniques together in an unbroken flow.
Of all Huashan’s vast repertoire, Dam Ho devoted himself most deeply to these three fundamental fist arts.
He had drilled them daily for five years until he could execute them with his eyes closed. Now he poured his full spirit into each movement.
Within Huashan, there was no other who labored so intently over these basic techniques. Most sought higher, more spectacular arts—and the School possessed many such secrets.
“Hah—!”
The clearing rang only with Dam Ho’s ragged breathing and the sound of air splitting under his fists.
Thus his hours passed.
When Hyeon So returned to the dwelling that night, he found Dam Ho sprawled across the sleeping mat, barely conscious, locked in deep sleep.
Jin In did not look surprised. For the past five years, he had witnessed this sight every single day. Instead, he gazed at the traces left behind on the ground.
Footprints marked the open space—Dam Ho’s footprints, arranged in a perfectly straight line.
Jin In looked at Dam Ho with an approving gleam in his eyes. Dam Ho remained deep in sleep.
He sat carefully beside Dam Ho and began to massage the boy’s legs.
“Repetition in daily practice may bring tedium, but those who overcome that tedium through repeated training grow sturdy in spirit and body, my boy.”
Jin In worked the muscles of Dam Ho’s legs with meticulous care.
Five years of repetition had brought his Acupressure Technique to a considerable level of mastery. He loosened the tightly knotted muscles and gently worked the joints.
His greatest attention fell upon Dam Ho’s left foot. It was not in normal condition, and the knots there ran particularly deep.
As Jin In’s hands worked Dam Ho’s left foot, they carried warmth within them. Whether sensing that warmth or lost in the depths of sleep, Dam Ho’s lips curled into a faint smile.
Only when Jin In felt the cramped muscles beneath his hands loosen and ease did he finally withdraw.
Exhale.
Jin In rose to his feet with a heavy breath.
The night was deep, yet his work remained unfinished. He drew a book from his robes.
The Heavenly Yin Alchemy Treatise.
It was a text that had lain buried in the Yeongbo Palace of the Huashan School.
A book he had read long ago—now retrieved again, this time for Dam Ho’s sake.
Jin In immersed himself in the Heavenly Yin Alchemy Treatise until dawn. Beside him, Dam Ho slept on, unbothered.
＊＊＊
Dam Ho stirred and sat up.
A sound of satisfaction escaped him.
His entire body felt refreshed, as if he had just bathed. He stretched lazily, then caught sight of Jin In sleeping nearby.
“Master has done it again…….”
He needed no confirmation. He already knew—Jin In had performed the Acupressure Technique for him once more.
Beside Jin In lay a book Dam Ho had never seen before. He closed it carefully and, with equal care, helped Jin In into the adjoining chamber to rest.
Only after ensuring Jin In could sleep in comfort did Dam Ho step outside. The night sky still glimmered with stars.
The wind carried the fragrance of plum blossoms. Dam Ho began his Cultivation practice on a platform drenched in that perfume. Over the past few days he had devoted himself to studying the Zhongtan Heart Sutra, but this was his first time actually putting it into practice.
Though it might seem reckless to enter a Samadhi State on one’s first attempt, Dam Ho did not hesitate. He dove into the depths of cultivation.
A path unexplored for centuries lay open before him—a road no one had ever traveled.
Even Dam Ho could not know what awaited him at the end of such a path.
The wind, laden with plum-blossom fragrance, caressed his body with gentle touch, yet Dam Ho noticed nothing of it, lost as he was.
The Zhongtan Heart Sutra was not a method that built Internal Energy rapidly. It lacked the boundless versatility of the Xiaoqing Heart Sutra, which the core disciples of the school cultivated.
True to its name, the Zhongtan Heart Sutra was heavy. Where the Xiaoqing Heart Sutra generated Internal Energy light and airy as wind, the Zhongtan Heart Sutra made it sluggish and viscous, like marsh mud. This made cultivation extraordinarily difficult.
Beads of perspiration gathered on Dam Ho’s brow. Yet the cool breeze swept across and dried them just as quickly.
Dam Ho lost all sense of time, absorbed entirely in the Zhongtan Heart Sutra.
Dam Ho opened his eyes again when the sun touched the ridge of Yeonhwa Peak. He had begun his Cultivation practice in the early dawn, and now morning had fully arrived.
As Dam Ho finished, he shook his head slowly.
“This will not be easy.”
With any other Heart Sutra, he would have completed at least three Circuit Cycles in that span of time. But Dam Ho had managed only one. His Internal Energy accumulated three times more slowly than with other methods. Yet because each increment possessed far greater density, when he eventually reached the same level as others, his power would be far more formidable.
The true problem was how to accumulate Internal Energy at the same level—or beyond—as everyone else.
Dam Ho shook his head again.
“I must reduce my sleep.”
Sleep less than others, cultivate with greater diligence. That was the conclusion Dam Ho had reached.
From that day forward, Dam Ho cut his sleep further still.
He allowed himself only a single watch of the night—then rose to immerse himself in Cultivation practice until dawn. In the mornings, he ran the slopes of Huashan to condition his body. Afternoons and nights he spent mastering the martial arts of the Huashan School that he already knew.
Thus Dam Ho’s days flowed onward.

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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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