Heavenly Demon Divine Saint - Chapter 105
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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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Chapter 105
A sharp metallic screech tore through the air!
Cheon So-hyun arched his back urgently, evading the strike.
A lock of his hair fell away as the sword qi sliced through empty space with devastating force, the beam of light continuing unimpeded to cleave a pillar behind him cleanly in two.
‘…Damn it.’
Cheon So-hyun regained his balance and prepared a counterattack, but abandoned the thought just as quickly.
Jin Gong-han’s blade curved like a serpent, targeting his ribs.
A sharp tearing sound echoed!
Cheon So-hyun’s robe split open, and crimson blood sprayed forth.
‘…Why?’
Even as I twisted my entire body to evade, confusion flooded my mind.
‘Why in the world is he here?’
It made no sense whatsoever.
Where had the Shaolin brothers gone, and what was this Wudang Sect master doing here?
Could Jin Gong-han have actually harmed them…?
‘No, he’s not that kind of person.’
Though his carefree nature often exasperated the Wudang masters, he was not inherently evil.
-A so-called Taoist who can’t even stop drinking—is that acceptable?
-Ah, who taught me this in the first place? Why complain? After all, it’s only natural for someone heading down the Buddhist path to… Ha, I’m joking, joking. Please put your fists away, brother.
He was the sort who called everyone “brother” indiscriminately, claiming that living freely was itself the Way.
I had only ever seen him grinning with amusement at everything, but now I faced a stranger.
A sharp metallic cry rang out!
He unleashed a barrage of killing strikes as though facing a mortal enemy, his blade radiating an unfamiliar murderous intent and malice.
The sword flowed like water, its direction impossible to predict, and it carried a bizarre power proportional to its unpredictability.
“I heard talent had withered away, but it seems that’s not entirely true. It would have been quite enjoyable, if you hadn’t come with such wicked intentions.”
‘This bastard….’
At his mocking tone, my eyes flashed with dark light.
A heavy impact resounded!
I threw myself through the cascading sword strikes, stamping down with Jin Gak, and Jin Gong-han rebounded like a cannonball, driving his blade into the ground to halt his momentum.
‘…What?’
Bewilderment crossed his face.
The Taiji Hui Sword. A technique that cuts through space without interruption, slowly and inexorably strangling the opponent’s breath—a supreme art of Wudang.
The sword path was intricate and the martial depth unfathomably profound, making it almost a waste to display such a supreme technique to an uninvited guest.
‘Yet he saw through the flow?’
He had exploited the infinitesimal gap created when techniques linked together—a gap too trivial to even be called an opening—and struck my wrist with force.
‘So he does possess some skill after all.’
A deep boom erupted!
At that moment, Cheon So-hyun launched himself forward at full speed. I was not so soft as to overlook such an obvious opening.
Channeling the elasticity of the One-Weighted Blade Technique, I drove my fist straight toward his face.
A thunderous collision shook the air!
“Your spirit is admirable, but ultimately… that’s all there is to it.”
Jin Gong-han’s blade spun in a graceful arc, sliding along Cheon So-hyun’s fist before redirecting the force to completely shatter his opponent’s center of gravity.
“…!”
“With such crude martial arts, you won’t even pluck a single blade of grass.”
The blade sang through the air!
Where the Namgung Clan’s martial arts were a sword that collided with overwhelming force to topple opponents, Wudang’s techniques embodied the subtle principle of gentleness—like flowing water gradually carving away at massive stone.
The blade, cutting through empty space like water in motion, surged toward Cheon So-hyun’s ribs.
‘Amitabha Buddha!’
Even before such a flawless blade technique, Cheon So-hyun did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward as if meeting fire with fire, driving into the gap created by the fist technique.
It was a movement that seemed to invite the strike—a reckless gambit seeking mutual destruction. Jin Gong-han’s eyes widened at this audacity.
“You harbor foolish hopes.”
A crystalline wave of qi erupted from his entire body. It was a boundless, profound undulation of power befitting the reputation of a Wudang elder.
“Do you think I would indulge in such a fishy gamble?”
The pressure surged!
Cheon So-hyun bore the full brunt of that qi wave while closing the distance.
Blood flowed more freely from the wound on his blade arm.
With each step forward, the pressure that shook his very soul intensified, yet he could not afford to miss this opportunity.
“Hnngh!”
The Arhat Fist pierced through the air, striking Jin Gong-han’s ribs with tremendous force.
“Kugh!”
Immediately after, a rising fist targeted his reflexively retreating jaw—a strike with enough power to pulverize not just bone but the entire skull into dust.
The impact thundered!
Jin Gong-han raised his blade flat to block it. As he pushed back with tremendous force, Cheon So-hyun used the recoil to spin his body, driving his elbow directly into Jin Gong-han’s solar plexus.
“This wretched little rat…!”
Jin Gong-han ground his teeth together.
His breath caught in his throat and his vision blurred for a moment, yet his blade moved with practiced habit, tracing the tai chi symbol.
Metal rang out in rapid succession!
He redirected and parried, evading and flowing with the avalanche of fists, responding to the relentless assault.
After exchanging countless moves, Jin Gong-han’s face clouded with confusion.
‘…What is this boy?’
He was young.
At most, he seemed to be around the age of Wudang’s third-generation disciples.
Yet the power contained in each individual fist strike was extraordinary.
A weight reminiscent of ancient stone flowed through his blade, vibrating his grip. It was monstrous strength—enough to tear his palm open if he let his guard slip for even an instant.
What was even more astonishing was his brutally aggressive fighting style.
‘Has he lost all sense of fear?’
Even before blade qi surging toward his neck, he showed no hesitation.
Instead, he narrowed the distance to its absolute limit, driving his fists forward.
It was a movement that radiated the spirit of one willing to sacrifice his own bones to strike down his opponent’s throat.
Relentless and vicious. Like a ghost clinging to him, maintaining the gap required for fist techniques.
‘What is this?’
What struck him most oddly was how familiar that fervor—bordering on madness—felt to him. A memory from the past suddenly flickered through his mind.
-Anyway, you stubborn bastard, you never tire, do you? If you’re going to keep being a nuisance, why don’t I just shave your head clean and have you start mopping floors with the young novices?
A time now beyond his reach.
It was a memory from when he had left Do-mun to begin his martial pilgrimage.
Why had that time come to mind now?
‘…Could it be?’
Jin Gong-han, seized by doubt, brought his sword down in a diagonal slash, pouring his full martial energy into the blade.
Crash!
With a violent explosion, both their bodies were sent reeling backward.
“You… what exactly are you?”
Cheon So-hyun dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.
Blood seeped through his tattered robes, and his entire body screamed in protest from the reckless expenditure of his energy.
Yet his eyes remained alive—burning brighter than ever before.
“Only now does it occur to you to wonder?”
“Yes. You don’t look like someone who’d serve as a lackey for the Black Path while ransacking empty sects.”
No faction, regardless of its power, would throw away a Later-Stage Martial Artist so carelessly.
It would be an absurdly foolish decision. Whether spy or servant, he was far too valuable to waste in a single use.
Cheon So-hyun studied Jin Gong-han intently.
‘So he thought I was a Black Path puppet?’
When Divine Fist had entered nirvana and Shaolin had sealed its gates in his honor, the attention of the entire Realm naturally converged upon the Temple.
As light grows brighter, so too do the insects that swarm to it—there were surely no shortage of schemers and spies coming to assess the Mountain Gate’s situation.
‘Did I end up like this while dealing with them? But why would he be the one doing it, not the senior disciples?’
As these questions churned in his mind, Jin Gong-han’s cold voice cut through his thoughts.
“Have you nothing to say in your defense?”
Murder gleamed in his eyes. The killing intent that radiated from him was so overwhelming that if Cheon So-hyun failed to clarify his position, his life would be forfeit.
‘Tsk. There’s no way around this.’
Cheon So-hyun reached into his robes. If that man revealed his full power now, he would be unable to withstand it.
As he produced a name tablet from within his garments, Jin Gong-han’s expression froze instantly.
Hye Gwang.
Jin Gong-han’s breathing grew ragged as he beheld the name inscribed upon the golden tablet.
“You shameless fool, knowing no bounds….”
Countless individuals had come knocking at Shaolin’s Mountain Gate, invoking their connection to Hye Gwang.
Among them, the most despicable were those like this man—who had snuck in under cover of darkness, and when discovered, hastily produced a fabricated connection.
“Did you truly believe a single tablet could smooth over this situation?”
Jin Gong-han’s eyes trembled violently. He moved forward with heavy footfalls, his body cutting through the air.
A movement as ethereal as an immortal’s stride—the Ladder Cloud Vertical. Closing the distance in a single step, he raised his sword in a diagonal strike.
A blade that surged forth with such ferocity it seemed ready to cleave his entire body in two. It was a slash so violent that all his previous power felt like a drop in the ocean by comparison.
And yet.
“What are you doing?”
The black blade halted before Cheon So-hyun’s throat.
Cheon So-hyun met his gaze with unwavering eyes.
“What nonsense is this?”
“Why are you offering your neck to an incoming blade? Has your attachment to life finally vanished?”
Cheon So-hyun smiled faintly and pushed the sword away.
“A Taoist who cannot even discern his opponent’s identity would never guard Shaolin’s Mountain Gate. Wouldn’t you agree?”
….
What in the world was this man?
Jin Gong-han’s eyes deepened as he regarded Cheon So-hyun.
‘Extraordinary.’
Truly an extraordinary fellow.
To maintain composure before the threat of a razor-sharp blade required both the commanding presence and courage to control even the body’s instincts, along with absolute trust in one’s opponent.
He fell silent for a long moment, then withdrew his sword and examined the nameplate. There would be time enough to strike later, he reasoned.
‘What is this?’
The cool energy seeping into his palm caused Jin Gong-han’s brow to furrow slightly.
The golden tablet’s color shifted depending on the angle of observation, and it possessed a hardness far beyond what one would expect.
‘Did he blend Dragonrise Gold into the steel?’
He could discern at a glance that this was a metal both feather-light in weight and possessed of extraordinary durability.
“You received this from Hye Gwang?”
“Indeed. He said that any Martial Monk of Shaolin would recognize its value upon inspection.”
Jin Gong-han’s expression hardened naturally.
Dragonrise Gold boasted such formidable durability that neither heat nor physical impact would leave a mark, making conventional crafting nearly impossible.
The only method was internal energy manipulation. Yet the material was so sensitive to qi that excessive force would shatter it into powder, while insufficient force would not even leave a scratch.
Upon this precious object were inscribed the characters “Hye Gwang.”
This was no feat that mere skill could accomplish.
Even he, an elder of Wudang Sect, could not confidently claim such mastery of internal cultivation and technique.
Cheon So-hyun observed him as his expression grew troubled.
‘It seems to have worked.’
That nameplate was in fact a golden tablet he had received from Namgung Seon-ah.
The Namgung Family used precious metals to prevent anyone from impersonating a tablet’s owner, thereby proving both authenticity and trustworthiness simultaneously.
Thus, Cheon So-hyun had spent the entire carriage ride erasing the original engravings and re-inscribing them with Shaolin’s own methods to navigate the situation smoothly.
“But where have all of Shaolin’s Martial Monks gone? I see neither student monks nor warrior monks anywhere. Has something happened?”
“Silence. Even if your words were true, the fact remains that you crossed the Stone Wall of a sect that has sealed its gates without permission.”
Jin Gong-han turned and began walking.
“Follow me. After I verify the authenticity, I shall hear your account.”
Cheon So-hyun watched his retreating figure for a moment. The face that had passed before him seemed quite troubled.
‘Why is he acting this way?’
Moreover, he was not heading toward where Shaolin’s main halls were gathered.
‘…He intends to verify it outside the Mountain Gate?’
What in the world had befallen his senior brothers?
Cheon So-hyun, turning over his many doubts, simply followed him, hoping the direction would not lead somewhere ominous.
* * *
A space suffused with the subtle fragrance of ink.
Wooden pillars that bore the weight of countless years supported this small chamber, no more than one length wide and one length deep, yet the spiritual force contained within it seemed to encompass the entire Realm.
The aura dwelling here was as profound and vast as if it embraced all of heaven and earth.
“May I enter?”
“You may.”
As the door opened, a middle-aged man stepped inside. His sturdy frame was draped in a neat monastic robe, and fatigue was evident upon his face.
“Your contemplation runs deep. It seems your composure has been shaken in an uncharacteristic manner. What troubles you so?”
“It is this… The Jin Dojo has sent unexpected news.”
“News?”
“Yes, they say a person has appeared at the Mountain Gate claiming to possess a credential tablet, stating they received instruction from Senior Brother Hye Gwang.”
The monk seated in meditation at the center of the chamber did not open his eyes. Only the hand turning the prayer beads slowed for a moment.
His breathing remained tranquil—deep and calm as the sea.
“…A credential tablet, you say?”
“Yes, please examine it yourself.”
The Martial Monk slowly reached out and took the tablet. As he examined the inscription and traced the marks as if following a path, his steady breathing wavered.
“As you can see, it bears an intaglio carved with the Great Strength Diamond Finger. Judging by its depth and the method of execution…”
“In any case… that fellow has a dark heart.”
“Pardon?”
A faint smile crossed the Martial Monk’s lips. His eyes held a complex tangle of emotions that defied description.
“It seems your senior brother left many things behind in various ways.”
Hyegong, the Abbot of Shaolin, rose from his seat.
“Let us go.”
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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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