Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 78

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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 77. Those destined to meet again will meet again—Part 2
Dam Ho’s eyes narrowed to slits.
Pedestrians crossing the street transformed into assassins.
A merchant, an old woman—they drew short blades and attacked Hae So Wol. A peaceful, ordinary scene had shattered into something that threatened her very life.
Hae So Wol’s response to the sudden onslaught was nothing short of dazzling. The moment her sword left its sheath, brilliant flickers of light scattered in all directions.
Whish-whish!
Her blade unfurled like a fan’s ribs, sweeping the space around her. The old woman and the merchant were thrown backward by the wall of steel.
Blood sprayed from their chests. Hae So Wol’s sword had already passed through them.
The Chuang Hai Duan Bo Jian—the name of the sea-sword technique that only a handful of disciples in the Hae Nam Sect could master.
The Chuang Hai Duan Bo Jian was a perfect integration of offense and defense.
Defense became attack, and attack became the ultimate defense—that was the sword Hae So Wol pursued.
Shee-shee-shiek!
Her blade carved through empty air with terrible grace.
Hae So Wol’s waist bent fluidly. Her sword bit into the very grain of the wind.
To the eye it was beautiful beyond measure, yet the malice woven within it was impossible to describe.
“Ah!”
Fang Jin Bo, ignorant of the truth, gasped at what he saw. To him it looked as though a celestial maiden had descended from heaven to dance with a blade.
But Dam Ho saw through it all—the ferocity and the intent to kill coiled within. Whoever had first conceived this sword technique must have possessed a killing intent of terrible power.
One needed only to observe how relentlessly the forms targeted the blood vessels to understand.
The sword’s raw power was flawless.
The problem lay with the person wielding it.
‘Her intent to kill is insufficient.’
The technique had been forged for death. Yet the sword’s owner lacked the will to take it. So the technique could not unleash its full potential.
In Hae So Wol’s blade there lived respect and courtesy toward human life. Because of this, though opportunities for swift killing had presented themselves, she held back—sparing their lives even as she struck them down.
Shee-gwak!
Her blade slashed through empty space again and again.
Each time, assassins fell in sprays of blood. All bore deep sword wounds. Yet not one had lost their life.
The Duan Bo You Xi, the Jian Pai Hai Yi—move after move unfolded in sequence.
When at last Hae So Wol’s sword dance concluded, no one remained standing in the square.
Where the wave of steel had passed, she alone stood. The wind from Dong Jeong Lake caressed her hair softly.
It was a presence worthy of the Byeol Ho they called her.
People erupted in applause at the sight of her.
“Wow! That was incredible!”
“Who is she?”
They burned with curiosity about her identity.
She had felled twelve assassins in a single display of martial prowess, and her beauty was blinding to behold.
“Ah, she’s Hae So Wol.”
“A female swordmaster from Hae Nam Do? Then—Goo Mu Ryong?”
Her rough indigo robes woven from coarse cotton and the Bi Sang Sword—several people recognized her by these marks.
Those who knew her identity cheered even more passionately.
The Gang Ho celebrates heroes. When that hero is handsome or beautiful, their adulation becomes all the more blind and absolute.
Hae So Wol possessed both superior martial skill and extraordinary beauty. She deserved nothing less than the roaring acclaim of the crowd.
Though the people cheered, Hae So Wol showed no sign of excitement. Her cultivation ran deep and wide; she would not be shaken by such things.
“Uugh!”
The assassins, barely alive, clutched their wounds and writhed on the ground. Those who had lurked in the lake and ambushed her all bore grave injuries.
Shling!
“Who sent you?”
Hae So Wol sheathed her blade and approached them.
Her eyes blazed with a chill sharper than ever. But the assassins clamped their mouths shut and would not answer.
Their eyes glowed with bitter hatred as they glared at Hae So Wol. She seized one of them, intent on extracting the truth about who lay behind this attack.
At that moment, one of the assassins suddenly drew a round object from his robe in silence. The instant Hae So Wol saw it—saw the iron sphere—her pupils dilated.
‘A Bi Ryeok Tan?’
She had never seen such a thing before, yet intuition seized her in that instant.
The assassin holding it smiled thinly.
‘You’re coming with us.’
That was what his eyes seemed to say.
A Bi Ryeok Tan called the Jin Cheon Noe. Once it detonated, destruction would consume thirty paces in all directions. Hae So Wol alone was not the concern—hundreds of innocent lives in the vicinity would vanish in a single instant.
“Madness!”
Hae So Wol drew the Bi Sang Sword once more and rushed at the assassin.
She had grasped her own error.
‘I let my guard down.’
Before entering the Gang Ho, his master had warned him countless times that carelessness was forbidden, yet he had allowed himself to become intoxicated by his own martial prowess and forgotten that wisdom entirely.
The price came back to haunt him—and it was lethal.
Even as Hae So Wol drew the Bi Sang Sword and swung it, her eyes clamped shut.
Bang!
In that instant, a deafening sound rang out and her body lurched slightly. But the impact wasn’t nearly as violent as she’d expected.
Hae So Wol’s eyes flickered open. A black shadow materialized before her.
Beyond that shadow, she glimpsed the assassin being hurled toward Dong Jeong Lake.
Boom—crash!
A real explosion erupted in the next moment, and the shock wave swept over her and everyone in the vicinity.
“Ahhh!”
“Ugh!”
Countless people were caught in the blast wind and sent tumbling across the ground. Yet not a single soul among them lost their life to the explosion.
Hae So Wol swept her disheveled hair back and straightened her hunched spine. Her face bore the unmistakable mark of shock.
She glanced urgently around. Then she saw ripples and smoke rising from the lake’s surface—the Bi Ryeok Tan had detonated in the water.
Because of that, though some were injured, not one person died from the blast.
“Who on earth…?”
The moment her eyes had closed had lasted mere fractions of a second.
In that brief span, the assassin holding the Bi Ryeok Tan had vanished, and the explosion had occurred in the lake instead. Someone had clearly either thrown or struck the assassin carrying the Bi Ryeok Tan into the water.
Hae So Wol rushed toward the other assassins. Their faces had already turned a sickly black—they had bitten down on Poison Pills held in their mouths just before the explosion.
She quickly thought of someone and scanned the surroundings. But he had already disappeared from view.
‘That man.’
The one in the black robe who had been with the corpulent boy.
Hae So Wol recalled him.
Dam Ho and Fang Jin Bo slipped away from the street where the explosion had occurred.
“Big brother!”
Fang Jin Bo called out to Dam Ho. But Dam Ho gave no answer.
It was Dam Ho who had hurled the assassin carrying the Bi Ryeok Tan into the lake.
With a single Chung Bo followed by Pa Seong Chu, he’d sent the assassin flying into the water. The assassin never understood how death came for him—the impact was so swift that even those standing beside him failed to notice.
Dam Ho had killed the assassin precisely because Fang Jin Bo was there. Eliminating the threat was far more efficient than trying to flee with the boy in tow.
“Thank you, big brother. I’m sorry for putting you out like this…”
Fang Jin Bo looked up at Dam Ho.
Unlike most others, Fang Jin Bo understood well enough: Dam Ho had little interest in other people’s affairs.
The fact that he had acted at all was solely because of Fang Jin Bo himself.
Dam Ho ruffled the boy’s hair with his large hand without a word. Fang Jin Bo burst into a broad smile.
“There.”
“Hurry.”
A group of martial artists came rushing toward them. They were from the Ak Yang Sword Gate. They swept past Dam Ho and Fang Jin Bo, racing toward the site of the explosion.
It wasn’t only the Ak Yang Sword Gate. Every sect with a presence in Ak Yang was surging toward the blast site. The entire city was stirring.
“Big brother, look there.”
How long had they been walking? Suddenly Fang Jin Bo pointed to a spot ahead.
At the place Fang Jin Bo indicated, the Night Market was in full swing.
Countless merchants had lit their lanterns and were hawking food. While the explosion at Dong Jeong Lake had nearly claimed many lives, here the night still belonged to the crowds enjoying themselves.
Dam Ho was drawn into the Night Market by Fang Jin Bo.
The street overflowed with food of every kind. Vendors had arranged their homemade dishes on stalls, enticing passersby with their wares.
Fang Jin Bo could not resist the vendors’ allure and dashed forward.
“Wow!”
An exclamation burst from Fang Jin Bo’s lips. He quickly turned to Dam Ho.
“Big brother, can I try some of these?”
When Dam Ho nodded, Fang Jin Bo’s excitement grew, and he began circling the stalls. His hands were soon full of food—steamed buns, fried cakes, and other delicacies from the vendors.
Dam Ho followed silently behind the boy.
All the way to this point, Fang Jin Bo had been growing steadily. He loved food above all else, and he longed to bring happiness to others through the dishes he created.
His heart was purer than most. And he possessed a passion that Dam Ho, despite a lifetime of effort, could never attain.
Everyone yearns for what they do not possess.
Perhaps that was the deepest reason Dam Ho chose to walk alongside Fang Jin Bo.
It was then.
A man walking toward them caught Dam Ho’s attention.
Of ordinary build, with modest dress. Yet there was nothing ordinary about his bearing.
Most striking was his face—carved like a marble sculpture, beautiful and distinguished, with eyes of deep black that held an ineffable sorrow.
On his back he carried a large Wooden Armor, and five sword hilts protruded above it, arranged like a peacock spreading its tail feathers in full display.
A considerable number of people fixed their attention on the man’s unusual appearance. Though bearing the weight of so many gazes, he ought to have felt some embarrassment, yet instead he walked forward with an easy stride, a faint smile playing at his lips.
The man passed Dam Ho without a glance.
In that instant, Dam Ho’s nose wrinkled. An extraordinarily intense scent emanated from the stranger.
‘Blood.’
A reek that assaulted the senses—the sharp, metallic odor of gore.
Dam Ho turned to look back. But the man had already vanished into the crowd in a heartbeat.
First Hae So Wol, now this man bearing that peculiar Wooden Armor. Skilled masters were flowing into Ak Yang one after another.
Whether it was mere coincidence or some unseen force at work, he could not say—but the fact that they had all arrived in perfect synchrony with his own entry into Ak Yang troubled him.
A memory surfaced: something Hyun So had once told him.
“There is no word in this world more deceptive than ‘coincidence.’ When countless causes are woven together like warp and weft, and the net of consequence is finally formed, only then does necessity masquerade as chance. And when such things occur, one must always examine what lies near. Omens always accompany them.”
Wind was rising from Dong Jeong Lake.
Wind that had been blowing since the moment he entered Ak Yang. Dam Ho wished it would not touch him.

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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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