Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 6

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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 6. Where There Is Change, There Is Also Constancy—3
“He’s just arrived at Zhenwu Palace.”
A boy who looked to be barely thirteen or fourteen was watching Dam Ho. It was Won Yul, the Second Disciple of the Huashan Sect.
There was scarcely two or three years’ difference between Dam Ho and him, yet in rank it was vast. Dam Ho was the First Disciple; Won Yul was the Second. Dam Ho was his senior. Yet in Won Yul’s eyes as he regarded Dam Ho flickered a malevolent light.
Won Yul’s lips curled upward in a sneer.
‘This cripple, my senior? I could never accept it.’
Dam Ho was unaware that within the Huashan Sect, his nickname was the Running Dog—the dog that cannot run. It was a cruel reference to his condition as a cripple.
Many of the First Disciples believed Dam Ho had simply been fortunate enough to reach their rank. The Second Disciples, close to Dam Ho in age, refused to acknowledge him as their senior.
The Huashan Sect pursued strength above all. Especially in swordsmanship, its name rang through the realm. For such a sect to accept Dam Ho—who could not even properly deploy a single sword technique due to his nature—was far from easy.
Above all, Dam Ho had almost no contact with the other disciples of the Huashan Sect. Ordinarily, a First Disciple would teach the Second Disciples, but Dam Ho rarely appeared. His absence bred misunderstandings among them.
Many disciples believed Dam Ho was receiving special treatment without merit. They grudgingly acknowledged him as their superior due to rank, but they did not call him their senior. This was the pride of Won Yul and the other Second Disciples.
Dam Ho stared at Won Yul for a moment. Won Yul did not flinch from his gaze; instead, he met it with provocation.
Suddenly Won Yul shuddered.
Those eyes were unusually deep and black as pitch, and within them lay not a trace of emotion directed at Won Yul. Yet Won Yul felt a chill he could not explain.
‘What was that?’
As he searched for an answer—
“Go on.”
Dam Ho passed in front of him. The inexplicable chill vanished as if it had never been.
‘Was it my imagination?’
Won Yul tilted his head in confusion.
Meanwhile, Dam Ho walked on ahead. Won Yul, with no time to think further, hurried after him.
‘Has it been nearly a month?’
It had been almost a month since Han So Yu had told him he would be summoned to Zhenwu Palace. In that time, Dam Ho had been so absorbed in mastering the Jungheon Heart Method and bamboo-leaf techniques that he’d forgotten this summons entirely.
‘Master Hyeon Geom, then.’
He was curious what sort of person he might be; on the other hand, he resented losing time that could be spent refining the Jungheon Heart Method. Yet when the sect elders summoned him, he had no choice but to go.
Dam Ho suddenly lifted his gaze, surveying the surroundings. The plum blossoms that had painted Huashan white not long ago were no longer visible.
He missed their delicate fragrance, though he felt no particular regret. Only the sense that time had already slipped away grieved him.
Meanwhile, Won Yul’s face, following behind Dam Ho, showed bewilderment. At first the gap had been negligible, but as time passed, the distance between them widened steadily.
Dam Ho was clearly limping as he walked. Yet the distance between them only grew. No matter how quickly Won Yul hastened his steps, the gap did not narrow at all.
At last Won Yul had to deploy his Lightness Skill. Only then could he catch up with Dam Ho. But by that time, Dam Ho was already nearly at the front gate of Zhenwu Palace.
Dam Ho turned to look at Won Yul.
“Shall I simply go in from here?”
“Ah? Well… yes, that’s right.”
“Thank you for showing me the way. I’ll see you again.”
Dam Ho stepped through the gates of Zhenwu Palace. Watching his receding figure, Won Yul muttered to himself.
“Did he learn some special Lightness Skill?”
It seemed possible. After all, despite being treated as the Running Dog, he was still a First Disciple.
“To receive such advantage… is that what it means to be a First Disciple?”
Won Yul bit his lip hard.
Inside Zhenwu Palace were gathered some fifty First Disciples of the Huashan Sect. For a massive sect like the Huashan Sect, bringing even its First Disciples together in one place was nearly impossible.
The First Disciples were the core strength that drove the sect forward, stationed at various Taoist temples or palaces, where they taught disciples and carried out official duties.
For this reason, having most of the First Disciples gather in one place was unprecedented. At least, that was Dam Ho’s understanding.
Though many First Disciples filled the chamber, not one of them opened his mouth. So grave was the atmosphere that hung over the hall.
As Dam Ho entered, Mu Gyeong, the senior among equals, offered a faint smile in acknowledgment. Given the solemnity of the moment, Dam Ho simply bowed his head in return.
Several others nodded in recognition, some regarded him with pitying expressions, and still others frowned as if displeased.
But Han So Yu was different. She gazed at Dam Ho with a subtle smile. Dam Ho bowed his head to her as well.
Creak!
At that moment, a rusted hinge shrieked, and the doors of Zhenwu Palace swung open. A middle-aged Taoist stepped forward.
At first glance he seemed ordinary, but the Taoist emanated a sharp aura like a perfectly honed blade.
His gaze swept across the First Disciples. The moment their eyes met his, they felt as though they stood naked in the midst of a snowy waste, assailed by piercing cold.
Dam Ho felt it too.
A chill crawled up his spine and across the backs of his hands. His lips began to tremble involuntarily.
The middle-aged Taoist had spoken no word, yet Dam Ho recognized him at once—Hyeon Geom, master of Zhenwu Palace and the greatest expert of the Huashan Sect. No one else could emanate such an aura.
The middle-aged Taoist finally opened his mouth.
“I am pleased to see you all. I am Hyeon Geom.”
“We greet Master Hyeon Geom.”
The voices of the First Disciples resonated through Zhenwu Palace. Within their chorus lay reverence for this master.
After the wave of greeting had subsided, Hyeon Geom spoke again.
“I have gathered you here at the command of the Sect Leader. He wishes me to impart my teachings to you as fully as possible.”
At that moment, the First Disciples stirred with excitement.
Many believed that if they could gain even a fraction of Hyeon Geom’s teachings, they would achieve tremendous progress. But the voice that followed was cold enough to extinguish their fervor entirely.
“However, I have no need for several who are merely somewhat better than others. I need only one who stands out.”
Hyeon Geom’s eyes gleamed with sharp intent.
He had entered the Huashan Sect as a boy barely able to walk, and had walked the path of the sword for more than fifty years. While his senior brothers of the same era turned their attention to worldly affairs or grew negligent in their martial arts, Hyeon Geom alone had devoted himself entirely to that singular path.
A swordsman who lived by the blade and would die by it.
For Hyeon Geom, whose ultimate aim was to reach the realm of immortal transcendence through the sword, mediocre talent held no value.
What he sought was exceptional talent capable of inheriting his teachings.
“There will be a trial. The single person who passes will become my direct disciple. It matters not whether you are a First Disciple or Second Disciple. Even a lay disciple—if they display outstanding talent, they shall become my student and inherit everything.”
A thunderous murmur rippled through the crowd.
Hyeon Geom’s declaration was nothing short of shocking.
It meant he would overturn the hierarchy and rank that most martial sects held sacred.
If a lay disciple became Hyeon Geom’s student, they would instantly become a First Disciple. It was an unprecedented breach of convention.
The faces of those who had been smiling with ease moments before turned rigid. Among them were Mu Gyeong and Un Gyeong, the senior figures among the First Disciples.
They too had not anticipated that Hyeon Geom would lay down such radical conditions.
Mu Gyeong, speaking on behalf of the First Disciples, asked the question.
“How exactly do you intend to select your disciple, Master?”
“Why, you too have ambitions? Mu Gyeong. With you already initiated into the Saha Divine Art, my teachings should be of little consequence to you.”
Mu Gyeong was a disciple of Hyeon Cheon, the Sect Leader of the Huashan Sect. Given that he was certain to become the next Sect Leader, he must have been initiated into the Saha Divine Art, the supreme martial art of Huashan.
Mu Gyeong smiled.
“Honestly, if I harbored no desire for your teachings, that would be strange indeed. You are the finest swordsman in Huashan. But as you say, I have already been initiated into the Saha Divine Art. Our paths are bound to differ from your martial way.”
“You understand well.”
“Whoever inherits your teachings will become the sword that represents Huashan. How could I not take notice?”
Hyeon Geom smiled. Mu Gyeong’s words were sound.
“Everyone here will participate in a martial competition.”
“Will the final victor inherit your teachings, Master?”
“Think of it as you will.”
At Hyeon Geom’s cryptic answer, Mu Gyeong’s brow twitched. But he soon laughed.
“I have no confidence I could win without embarrassing myself before my peers, so I shall withdraw.”
“Do as you please.”
Hyeon Geom nodded.
He did not want Mu Gyeong. Mu Gyeong, as the chief disciple of Huashan, had received much already. He walked a different path toward his own completion. Taking him as a direct disciple would only bring headaches.
The other disciples merely watched one another warily and did not withdraw. Though each already served their own master, inheriting Hyeon Geom’s teachings would be great honor.
Broadly speaking, they were all of the same sect, so their existing masters would not oppose their inheriting Hyeon Geom’s knowledge.
“Time is short. We will begin the competition now.”
As if prepared in advance, Hyeon Geom designated the first competitors.
“First, Seom Gyeong and Won Gyeong. Prepare yourselves.”
“Yes? Yes!”
Seom Gyeong and Won Gyeong, shocked at being called, stepped forward. They had not expected to compete first.
Their faces betrayed clear signs of tension.
Seom Gyeong belonged to Geumcheon Palace, while Won Gyeong belonged to Taeplyeong Palace. Though they had trained together in their youth, as they aged and their affiliations diverged, they had few opportunities to test themselves against each other.
What they knew of one another was information a decade old. Only direct confrontation would reveal their current level.
‘I will win without fail.’
‘I will inherit Hyeon Geom’s teachings.’
They burned with fighting spirit. Their resolve transmitted to the other First Disciples.
Two figures faced each other on the training grounds before Zhenwu Palace. The other First Disciples formed a circle around them, watching intently.
“Begin.”
At Hyeon Geom’s command, Seom Gyeong and Won Gyeong circled each other warily across the grounds.
Both inherited the martial arts of Huashan. Though their direct capabilities remained unknown, they knew which techniques the other excelled in.
“Hah!”
Won Gyeong moved first, deploying the Seven Star Sword Technique. In an instant, his wooden sword hurtled toward Seom Gyeong’s chest.
Seom Gyeong unfolded the Nine Palace Step to evade the onslaught. As the wooden sword whistled past empty air, he deployed the Plum Blossom Fist.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
The open ground was instantly filled with their whirling shadows.
The two men utilized the expansive space to their fullest, each striving to overwhelm the other. They unfolded the secret arts of Huashan in succession, and the other disciples gasped at the nearness-to-sorcery of their movements.
Dam Ho stood among the other First Disciples, watching the competition. His eyes burned cold and bright.
‘This is my chance.’
Solitary training and actual combat against an opponent were worlds apart. Now they had no choice but to reveal the true strength they had kept carefully hidden.
Seom Gyeong, wielding the Plum Blossom Fist, sought to close the distance by any means, while Won Gyeong, using the Seven Star Sword Technique, struggled to maintain space.
Watching the clash between a martial artist of the fist and one of the blade, Dam Ho was learning how to respond. He was gathering knowledge with every movement they made.
For someone like Dam Ho, who trained alone, this was an rare and precious opportunity. He focused every ounce of his consciousness so as not to miss a single moment of their duel.
The thought of inheriting the teachings of Hyeon Geom held no place in Dam Ho’s mind. He was utterly absorbed in the duel unfolding before his eyes.
Each time the two swordsmen clashed, his shoulders flinched.

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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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