Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 87

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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 86. When Blood Awakens, Wind of Gore Descends—Part 2
Bang Jin Bo’s eyes narrowed with intensity.
Before him, blue flames danced and wavered. The flames heated the wok until it shimmered.
“Now!”
Bang Jin Bo seized the moment and thrust the carefully prepared vegetables into the wok.
He worked the wok with a flick of his wrist, stirring the vegetables inside with a large ladle. The oil he’d drizzled in beforehand mixed with the vegetables, and an aroma that tantalized the senses spread in all directions.
When the finely minced meat went in, the fragrance grew even more intense. Bang Jin Bo lost himself entirely in the work, all sense of time forgotten.
There were women watching Bang Jin Bo as he cooked.
A woman with dark bronze skin couldn’t help but exclaim, her nostrils flaring slightly.
“Wow! That’s truly impressive.”
“Right? But the real show starts now.”
En So Cheong offered her encouragement from beside her.
The dark-skinned woman in the tiger-stripe vest was none other than Hwang Hye Ryeong.
“Honestly, when I heard you describe it, I didn’t believe you. But I have to admit it now.”
“Told you? The head chef of Heaven’s First Restaurant herself acknowledged his skill.”
En So Cheong shrugged as if the recognition were her own. At this, Hwang Hye Ryeong smiled.
‘So Cheong really does have that brightness about her.’
En So Cheong, despite being the treasured daughter of En Ha Bo, carried herself with an unpretentious ease. Charmed by her manner, Hwang Hye Ryeong had crossed the boundaries of station to form a genuine friendship with her.
They were now in the ancillary wing of the Seo Pung Guest Inn. En So Cheong had rented the entire wing to herself, then practically abducted Bang Jin Bo and brought him there. She’d said just one thing.
“I’m starving!”
That was why Bang Jin Bo was cooking in the wing.
“Hehe!”
En So Cheong rested her chin on her hand, watching Bang Jin Bo work. Her smile never wavered.
And Hwang Hye Ryeong observed En So Cheong’s expression with fascination. Brightness and liveliness were natural to her, but seeing her so completely unguarded, her heart so openly exposed—that was something new.
“Hmm!”
Just as Hwang Hye Ryeong’s expression turned thoughtful, En So Cheong looked up at her as if something had just occurred to her.
“But is it really alright for you to be wandering around alone like this?”
“It’s fine.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry! Everyone’s so occupied, they won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Hwang Hye Ryeong smiled, and her laughter carried a mischievous edge.
En So Cheong let out a sigh.
“What if the whole Nok Lim territory gets turned upside down again?”
“Il Gwang came with me, so it’s fine.”
Il Gwang, whom Hwang Hye Ryeong mentioned, was her personal guard—one of the most formidable masters in Nok Lim.
“In any case, you really are—”
En So Cheong shook her head helplessly.
Most people didn’t know what Hwang Hye Ryeong truly was.
When people spoke of the Gang Ho, they naturally thought of sects like the Nine Great Sects or the families that dominated it. But becoming a Gang Ho adept didn’t require learning martial arts from a famous sect known to the world.
Anyone who made their living by the sword—all such people were Gang Ho practitioners, and that category included the Nok Lim Bandits.
When people heard the name Nok Lim Bandits, they typically thought of common thieves hiding in mountains and dismissed them outright. But when their numbers exceeded ten thousand, the conversation changed entirely.
The Nok Lim Jip Pal Chae.
The combined force of mountain strongholds that currently dominated Nok Lim. The eighteen strongholds were scattered across Zhong Yuan.
Each stronghold housed between several hundred and over a thousand residents. Though their martial prowess couldn’t match the disciples of the great sects that ruled the martial world, no sect could ignore their overwhelming numbers.
Most of all, the Nok Lim Jip Pal Chae had Hwang Gyeong Moon, the Supreme Stronghold Master.
Hwang Gyeong Moon had devoted himself to Nok Lim at the age of thirteen and, after decades of struggle, had risen to become the supreme leader.
With formidable leadership and martial skill, he guided ten thousand Nok Lim bandits without any difficulty.
His martial prowess was said to be entirely undiminished even when compared to the elders of the Nine Great Sects.
Was it any wonder he’d been given the epithet of Tyrant King Blade?
Even the martial artists of upright orthodox sects, who typically scorned the Nok Lim bandits, dared not mock Hwang Gyeong Moon.
Hwang Gyeong Moon had a daughter born to him late in life.
Her name was Hwang Hye Ryeong—the very woman now sitting with En So Cheong.
Hwang Gyeong Moon was said to treasure Hwang Hye Ryeong beyond measure. Should even the slightest harm come to her, he would mobilize the entire Nok Lim Jip Pal Chae to punish whoever had wronged her.
Whether aware of this or not, Hwang Hye Ryeong smiled at En So Cheong.
Then Bang Jin Bo arrived at where the two women sat, bearing a plate.
“There you have it. The meal is ready.”
“Wonderful!”
En So Cheong broke into a wide smile at the sight of the dish piled high on the plate.
“I’ll eat it with pleasure. Jin Bo.”
“You’re welcome!”
The two women picked up their chopsticks and began to eat the dishes Bang Jin Bo had prepared.
“Look how tender this meat is.”
“How did he season this? I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
The dish Bang Jin Bo brought out was Dong Po Pork.
Hwang Hye Ryeong had eaten Dong Po Pork often enough to tire of it, and she thought she knew the taste well. But the Dong Po Pork that Bang Jin Bo served was different.
“How does such ordinary Dong Po Pork achieve a taste like this?”
“Because the cook is anything but ordinary.”
En So Cheong answered Hwang Hye Ryeong’s question simply.
“I see.”
“I told you, didn’t I? You wouldn’t regret it.”
“You’re absolutely right. It does seem I made the right choice staying here.”
“I knew it!”
En So Cheong nodded vigorously, then suddenly fixed her gaze on Bang Jin Bo.
“But where’s that man who was with you?”
“That man?”
“Oh, there’s this man who travels with Jin Bo. But he’s really, really scary.”
“Is he?”
Hwang Hye Ryeong’s expression grew listless.
Having grown up among rough people as the daughter of a Nok Lim Bandits leader, she scarcely understood the meaning of fear.
Indeed, her martial prowess was exceptional—among the Nok Lim Bandits themselves, there were few who could match her.
But En So Cheong, who had witnessed Dam Ho’s martial power firsthand, was different. Though young in years, she felt keenly how terrifying Dam Ho truly was.
“Where is he?”
“He said he had business and went out. It might take several days.”
“What kind of business?”
“I don’t know.”
Bang Jin Bo’s expression grew troubled.
Dam Ho had said he would return soon, but facing solitude for the first time, Bang Jin Bo felt anxious about everything.
The thought that Dam Ho might not return at all filled him with unease in every possible way.
En So Cheong noticed Bang Jin Bo’s troubled thoughts and gently patted his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be back soon.”
“You think so?”
“I’m sure of it!”
Bang Jin Bo’s face brightened at last.
‘Come back soon, brother.’
On Hyung San stood the Hyung San Pai, one of the Hunan Five Great Sects.
At its height, it had boasted power that rivaled the Nine Great Sects. But now its influence had dwindled to barely merit inclusion among the Hunan Five Great Sects.
Still, it held enough strength that people spoke of it as the hegemon of Hyung San and central Hunan Province. At least within this region, there was no person or sect that could afford to ignore the Hyung San Pai.
Jwa Mun Hyo, the Sect Leader of the Hyung San Pai, was legendary for a temperament as fierce as flame. He was particularly devoted to his own people—once a deep bond was formed, he would nurture it until death.
In the great hall, Jwa Mun Hyo sat with the Hyung San Pai’s elders, engaged in heated debate.
“Sect Leader, is this truly the moment to construct a Grand Imperial Hall?”
“This is the perfect opportunity. Once the Grand Imperial Hall is complete, we can demonstrate the Sect’s enduring strength and recruit far more disciples.”
“But we lack the financial means.”
Chae Gyu, an elder of the Hyung San Pai, shook his head.
Chae Gyu oversaw the Sect’s finances. The Hyung San Pai’s treasury was nearly exhausted. Yet Jwa Mun Hyo insisted on constructing a new hall—and the grandest, most ornate one in the entire region at that.
His plan was to attract new disciples by displaying the Sect’s magnificence. The other elders could not help but view Jwa Mun Hyo’s resolve with apprehension.
“Do not worry about finances.”
“How so?”
“I have already spoken with several influential families who would support us. They will provide their backing.”
“But…….”
“Since the financial burden is resolved, I hope the elders will raise no further objections to constructing the Grand Imperial Hall. This is not merely my whim—it is for the good of all the Hyung San Pai. Let us proceed together.”
“Very… well.”
“Sigh.”
Chae Gyu and the other elders replied with expressions of resignation. With the financial burden lifted as Jwa Mun Hyo said, they could hardly mount blanket opposition.
‘Even so, building a grand hall to flaunt power? What an absurd notion.’
A sect’s fortune or ruin had nothing to do with the size of its buildings. It was the Sect Leader’s guidance and philosophy that exerted the greatest influence.
The Hyung San Pai’s decline stemmed largely from the misguided policies of past leaders. The problem arose from always choosing the martial strongest as Sect Leader.
Currently, the strongest in the Hyung San Pai was Jwa Mun Hyo himself. But regrettably, his mind had not developed as much as his body. That, if anything, was the tragedy of the Hyung San Pai.
As Chae Gyu was sighing deeply, someone suddenly knocked on the great hall’s door and cried out.
“Sect Leader!”
“What is it?”
“So Jin Pung the Great Wanderer has arrived.”
“So Jin Pung?”
Jwa Mun Hyo rose from his seat.
The name was one he knew well. So Jin Pung’s martial prowess was unremarkable, but his reputation in the Gang Ho was sterling—the sort of man worth cultivating ties with. And Jwa Mun Hyo had maintained that acquaintance for years.
When he opened the great hall’s doors, So Jin Pung appeared alongside a martial artist from the Hyung San Pai.
Having ridden hard through the distance, So Jin Pung was drenched in sweat from head to foot, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“What brings you, Jin Pung?”
“A disaster—a terrible disaster. The An Ka Jang has been attacked.”
“The An Ka Jang?”
Jwa Mun Hyo’s face contorted.
An Gyo Ik, the Estate Master of the An Ka Jang, was one of the Hyung San Pai’s greatest patrons. That Jwa Mun Hyo had suddenly proposed the renovation of the Grand Imperial Hall owed no small part to the considerable sum An Gyo Ik had sponsored.
“What manner of fools would dare assault the An Ka Jang without fear?”
“It was a single man.”
“A single man?”
“That one man laid waste to the entire estate. I alone managed to escape and came to warn you.”
“Preposterous!”
Fire seemed to kindle in Jwa Mun Hyo’s eyes.
In this region, no one was ignorant of the fact that the An Ka Jang stood under the Hyung San Pai’s protection. To strike at it despite knowing this was nothing less than a deliberate mockery of the sect itself.
“Summon the disciples at once. We ride for the An Ka Jang immediately.”
“Sect Leader! But surely we should gather more information first before—”
“To insult the An Ka Jang is to insult the Hyung San Pai. How can those who walk the paths of the Gang Ho endure such dishonor?”
Jwa Mun Hyo’s words held merit, and Chae Gyu could offer no further objection.
“Hah…”
His sigh echoed hollow and bitter.
Jwa Mun Hyo led some hundred martial artists out from the Hyung San Pai with all speed.
The distance from the Hyung San Pai to the An Ka Jang was scarcely thirty leagues—a journey of less than half a shichen using the Gyeong Gong.
In truth, Jwa Mun Hyo and his men reached the An Ka Jang well before that time had elapsed.
“What in heaven’s name—?”
The eyes of the Hyung San Pai martial artists trembled as they took in the sight.
The An Ka Jang they knew had been a place of considerable beauty. Since An Gyo Ik had settled there as Estate Master, he had lavished his care upon its grounds with meticulous devotion.
But now, before their eyes, the An Ka Jang lay in such devastation that nothing of its former glory remained recognizable. The ruins of the estate were littered with corpses crushed as though struck repeatedly by some titanic hammer.
Though they belonged to the Hyung San Pai, one of the Hunan Five Great Sects, such direct contact with death was rare enough to count on one’s fingers.
Several of the martial artists turned away, unable to bear the sight of the remains.
“Where is he?”
Jwa Mun Hyo rushed deeper into the An Ka Jang.
There, he found what he sought.
One mangled corpse. And before it, a single man sitting quietly.
“Who are you?”
Jwa Mun Hyo’s voice rang out across the An Ka Jang like a bell.

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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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