Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 88

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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 87. When Blood Boils, the Wind Howls with Gore—3
Dam Ho lifted his head.
Jwa Mun-hyo and the martial artists of the Hyungsan Sect came into view. They radiated a sinister, oppressive presence. Yet it stirred nothing in Dam Ho.
Dam Ho’s gaze fixed on the corpse sprawled at his feet—once known as An Gyo-ik.
The man had been a member of the Black Tiger Gang.
After the Black Tiger Gang dissolved, An Gyo-ik had drifted through the Murim before settling here. For a brigand, he was remarkably shrewd.
He possessed considerable wealth, and he knew how to spend it.
First, he established a grand estate, then endeared himself to the locals through generosity. Afterward, he cultivated relationships with influential figures in the region, gradually expanding his reach.
Through shrewd business dealings, he accumulated substantial wealth and reinvested it in powerful sects. One of them was the Hyungsan Sect.
An Gyo-ik played the part of a generous patron, yet suspicion gnawed at him constantly. While feigning camaraderie, he investigated the weaknesses of those around him, recording every secret in a hidden ledger.
Distrusting everyone, he never married, choosing instead to live alone. This vast An Estate had servants, but not a single blood relative—all by design.
Yet for all his suspicion, An Gyo-ik lacked patience. He was not made of sterner stuff than No Cheol. The moment he was seized, he confessed everything.
The problem was that he knew far less than Dam Ho had hoped. That was why Dam Ho’s mood had soured.
Dam Ho addressed Jwa Mun-hyo.
“What is it?”
“What is it? You audacious fool! To commit such atrocities in the An Estate and then have the nerve to ask?”
Jwa Mun-hyo’s voice rang out sharply, echoing across the grounds.
He strode toward Dam Ho in long, purposeful strides. He confirmed that the corpse sprawled on the ground was indeed An Gyo-ik.
His eyes blazed with fury.
He had lost his greatest patron. With An Gyo-ik dead, plans to rebuild the Hall of the Primordial Sovereign would have to be postponed indefinitely.
Every delay in constructing the Hall meant delays in accepting disciples. More than that—all of Jwa Mun-hyo’s carefully laid schemes had crumbled to dust.
“Who are you? To commit murder in the domain of the Hyungsan Sect—have you lost your mind?”
Dam Ho stared at Jwa Mun-hyo with an unwavering gaze. It infuriated him, yet at the same time filled him with an inexplicable unease.
Dam Ho opened his mouth.
“Do you know something?”
“Know what?”
“That you don’t meddle in old vendettas in the Murim.”
“Are you threatening me, Jwa Mun-hyo, Sect Leader of the Hyungsan Sect?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s advice.”
“You insolent wretch. Let’s see what backing you have for such arrogance.”
“You’ll regret it.”
Dam Ho’s voice dropped to a cold whisper. In stark contrast, Jwa Mun-hyo’s voice rose.
“In all my years, no one has dared speak to me thus. Not even a Sect Leader of the Nine Great Schools would presume such impertinence.”
“Sect Leader.”
Chae Gyu, standing nearby, attempted to calm Jwa Mun-hyo. But his anger was not the kind that could be easily soothed.
Chae Gyu recognized that the man before them was no ordinary martial artist. Though purchased with coin, the An Estate’s martial artists were formidable. Yet dozens of such warriors lay slaughtered by this single man.
No ordinary martial artist could achieve such a feat.
‘Is there a martial artist of this caliber in the Murim?’
Chae Gyu searched his memory but could conjure no one matching the man before him.
Jwa Mun-hyo shouted.
“What are you waiting for? Seize him at once! I want him alive, kneeling before me. I will render judgment myself.”
“Yes!”
The martial artists of the Hyungsan Sect responded in unison. Before Chae Gyu could even attempt to intervene, they surged toward Dam Ho.
A hundred Hyungsan Sect warriors could annihilate a minor or mid-tier sect. Through their strength, the Hyungsan Sect maintained its position among the Five Great Schools of Hu Nam.
“Hah!”
The lead disciple of the Hyungsan Sect charged toward Dam Ho with a cry, sword raised. His face burned with ambition.
Yet Dam Ho remained motionless. The disciple’s confidence surged.
‘He is mine.’
Bang!
In an instant, a shock like a thunderbolt struck—as though lightning had split the earth itself. Dam Ho’s Wave Sound Pestle detonated.
The disciple, transformed into a mass of gore, flew backward like a cannonball, colliding with those who followed behind him.
“Kraaagh!”
“Damn it!”
A dozen warriors tangled together, writhing on the ground.
Dam Ho advanced toward where Jwa Mun-hyo stood.
Right foot planted, left foot dragged—the motion repeated. Ordinarily, such a hobbling gait would have drawn mockery.
But Jwa Mun-hyo could not laugh. As Dam Ho drew closer, an ominous pressure bore down upon him.
Jwa Mun-hyo cried out again.
“What are you doing? Seize him now!”
The Hyungsan Sect martial artists, who had faltered momentarily, surged toward Dam Ho once more.
“It’s just one man. No need to be afraid.”
“Haaaa!”
The roar of the Hyungsan Sect disciples echoed across the An Estate.
Watching them descend like a flock of geese, Dam Ho murmured to himself.
“If you wish so badly to see hell…….”
Thud!
Dam Ho kicked off the ground with explosive force.
“Then I’ll show you.”
His body collided directly with the lead Hyungsan Sect martial artist.
Crack!
With a sickening sound of bone fracture, the Hyungsan martial artist’s body flew backward. Blood erupted from his seven vital points. The immense pressure and impact delivered in an instant had ruptured every blood vessel in his body.
It was only the beginning.
Each time Dam Ho’s fist cut through the air, someone fell. Not one of them could withstand a single blow.
Those who raised their arms to block shattered like dried reeds; those who tried to defend with their legs had their joints crushed.
“Aaaah!”
“Argh!”
Agonized screams erupted from all corners.
Dam Ho was like a tiger plunging into a flock of sheep. No matter how many sheep there were, they could never wound the tiger—and the Hyungsan disciples could not draw even a scratch from Dam Ho’s body.
A violent wind swept across the An Estate. In its wake lay only the corpses of Hyungsan Sect martial artists.
“Insane.”
Jwa Mun-hyo and Chae Gyu, watching the spectacle, found themselves uttering the word without thought.
Boom!
With a sound like thunder tearing the sky, three or four martial artists flew backward in a spray of blood. The sight seemed beyond reality.
Like a crumbling dam, the Hyungsan disciples were collapsing, and Dam Ho was advancing relentlessly.
Black hair drifting in the wind.
Between the strands, eyes that gleamed with an endless darkness. And a billowing black leather robe.
Nothing about him was ordinary.
Only then did Jwa Mun-hyo realize that Dam Ho was no ordinary martial artist. This was not an opponent to be trifled with. But his realization came too late.
Already, half of the disciples he had brought with him had become bloodied masses beneath Dam Ho’s fists. The disciples writhing on the ground as pulped corpses became unnaturally vivid in his sight.
Among them was Myo Gong, Jwa Mun-hyo’s direct disciple, his neck bent at an impossible angle, his tongue lolled out. He had been sharp-witted, a student whom Jwa Mun-hyo had invested his heart in teaching.
And there was Ju Un-pyeong, a boy with exceptional natural talent, beloved by all, now lying with his chest caved in, blood streaming from his nose and mouth.
Many others he had brought with him were dying. Unable to bear it any longer, Jwa Mun-hyo hurled himself toward Dam Ho.
“Stop! You demon!”
In his hand now gleamed the Hyungsan Sect’s treasured sword, the Qingping Sword.
Jwa Mun-hyo unsheathed the Profound Heaven Water Flow Sword, the secret Supreme Technique of the Hyungsan Sect.
Whoosh!
Sword energy crystallized along the Qingping Sword’s blade.
The hazy energy took on a distinct form, then split into dozens of strands that shot toward Dam Ho.
It was the Lightning Flying Sword, the pinnacle technique of the Profound Heaven Water Flow Sword.
Despite his fiery temperament, Jwa Mun-hyo was the foremost master of the Hyungsan Sect. The sword energy contained in his blade held enough power to cleave a massive boulder in two with a single stroke.
The Lightning Flying Sword aimed for Dam Ho’s neck.
Dam Ho, who had just crushed a Hyungsan martial artist beneath his foot, lifted his head to regard the Qingping Sword descending toward him.
So this was the Sect Leader of Hyungsan. The leader of a sect with centuries of history—surely there should be formidable pressure radiating from him. At least, that’s what Dam Ho had thought.
The sword technique was sharp, and the force behind it considerable, but nothing more. Within it, he sensed neither the will to kill his opponent nor the aura of one who would crush him through sheer strength.
A martial artist who had found his own sword path could never wield a blade like this. This was a dead sword technique.
Dam Ho launched himself toward the rain of sword energy.
The moment his feet left the ground, his body had already traced a single, perfect line.
At the end of that black streak cutting through the air stood Jwa Mun-hyo.
Bang!
The Wave Sound Pestle detonated.
But Jwa Mun-hyo was no mere opponent. By the thinnest margin, he raised the sword’s spine to block the frontal strike.
Dam Ho’s fist struck the Qingping Sword’s blade, bowing it like an archer’s bow. Simultaneously, Jwa Mun-hyo’s body was hurled backward.
“Ungh!”
A pained groan escaped Jwa Mun-hyo’s lips.
The impact that pierced his body made it feel as though his entire inner organs were resonating. He could see cracks forming along the Qingping Sword’s blade.
“I will not forgive this.”
As Jwa Mun-hyo righted himself, he unleashed the pinnacle techniques of the Profound Heaven Water Flow Sword in succession.
Shik-shik-shik!
Now Jwa Mun-hyo too was fighting with desperation. The killing intent in his sword had deepened accordingly.
“Sect Leader!”
Chae Gyu cried out as he watched Jwa Mun-hyo.
He wanted to throw himself into the fight. But Jwa Mun-hyo’s momentum was so fierce and murderous that he didn’t dare interfere.
The expression on Jwa Mun-hyo’s face, as seen through Chae Gyu’s eyes, was desperate beyond measure. In all their years together, Chae Gyu had never seen him like this.
“Die!”
Jwa Mun-hyo’s cry rang out sharply.
The Sword Energy clinging to his blade unfurled like a fan, sweeping down toward Dam Ho.
In that instant, Dam Ho’s left leg drove through the ground. His waist twisted in rotation, and his right leg spun outward like a top.
Demon Bouncing Kick.
The Supreme Technique that the Demonic Sect had abandoned in the underground cavern was now unfolding through Dam Ho’s body.
The name was the same, but it was different from the Demonic Sect’s Demon Bouncing Kick.
This was Dam Ho’s own version, remade in his image.
Crack-crack-crack!
Jwa Mun-hyo’s Sword Energy scattered and vanished, swept away like a sandcastle crumbling before rolling waves.
“This can’t be!”
Jwa Mun-hyo’s eyes wavered at the impossible sight.
Dam Ho’s palm opened wide like a blooming plum blossom. Jwa Mun-hyo lunged with the Qingping Sword to sever Dam Ho’s hand.
In that moment, Dam Ho’s palm contracted slightly and met the Qingping Sword. And then the impossible occurred.
Ting!
The Qingping Sword shattered like glass. The Five Finger Rock Breaking Energy had been unleashed.
“Ugh!”
Jwa Mun-hyo spat blood. The shock of the sword’s destruction had dealt internal injuries. But Dam Ho’s assault was far from over.
Dam Ho drove three successive punches straight at Jwa Mun-hyo’s chest, his opponent defenseless.
Three Strike Cannon Shadow Fist.
This, too, was a martial art left behind by the Demonic Sect. And Dam Ho had likewise reinterpreted it in his own way.
“Stop!”
Chae Gyu cried out too late.
Bang-bang-crack!
Dam Ho’s fists struck Jwa Mun-hyo’s chest in rapid succession. All in the exact same spot.
The first punch shattered his ribs entirely. The second crushed his organs completely. And the third stopped his heart.
Jwa Mun-hyo collapsed, coughing blood from his mouth.
“Ugh…”
Jwa Mun-hyo, sprawled on the ground, gazed up at Dam Ho with dimming eyes. The touch of death had already settled upon him.
Not even a god from the heavens could have snatched him back from death’s grip now.
Dam Ho’s cold gaze looked down upon Jwa Mun-hyo.
“I told you.”
“W-what?”
“Not to meddle recklessly in the Hidden Grudges of the Murim.”

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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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