Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 1

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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 1
The Tianshan Mountain Range in Xinjiang.
Though a barren range ill-suited for human habitation, a colossal organization had long since made its nest here, settling into the mountains as if into a crouch.
The Cheonma Singyogyeong.
As a single sect, it could rightfully claim supremacy throughout Tianxia, encompassing both Zhongyuan and lands beyond—the Holy Land of the Demonic Way.
And for generations they had watched the prosperous Zhongyuan with hungry eyes, waiting for their moment…….
Yet in recent years, an uncanny silence had fallen over them.
As if some scheme were being devised in the shadows.
At the heart of the Cheonma Singyogyeong lay the Ma Young Palace.
The upper echelon of the sect gazed at the high seat with expressions grown grave.
The jade throne where the sect leader ought to sit.
Yet that throne stood empty.
For ten years now.
“……What are we to do about the position of sect leader?”
“We cannot leave the seat vacant forever. We shall have no choice but to hold a Sacred Battle to determine the successor.”
“And yet, the previous sect leader may still be alive.”
At Hwa Yeom Ma Jon’s words, a chill fell over the Ma Young Palace like ice water poured upon flame.
In the same instant, all eyes widened with dread.
And with that, the memory rose unbidden in each of their minds—of the former sect leader who had relinquished his position ten years prior and vanished without trace.
Among all those ever called Celestial Demon, one counted among the finest in martial prowess.
A man who had ascended to the position of sect leader and earned the title Celestial Demon without ever mastering the supreme secret art, the Cheonma Divine Art, that only a sect leader could cultivate.
One who had not merely mastered the hundreds and thousands of Demonic Absolute Techniques housed within the Cheonma Singyogyeong, but had also studied medicine and the miscellaneous arts without end—a supreme genius beyond equal.
An individual adorned with innumerable accolades.
The Absolute Celestial Demon.
Shiver—
At the mere thought of him, fear and dread seized them all, and their bodies trembled.
Yet a few shook their heads, casting off their terror, and spoke with caution.
“But ten years have passed now.”
“Y-yes, that’s true. And the sect leader did lay down his position before he left.”
“True enough, but what if the sect leader were to take offense at the new successor…….”
At Hwa Yeom Ma Jon’s words, which once again shattered the fragile calm, their faces drained of color.
There had been one time in the past.
Just one time when someone had displeased the sect leader.
And the consequences had been catastrophic.
The Five Great Families that had once upheld the Cheonma Singyogyeong had been reduced to four.
Twitch!
Those who had been recalling the previous sect leader stiffened with terror.
Silence—
They exchanged glances heavy with dread and swallowed hard, speaking in hushed whispers.
“Then perhaps we should shelve this matter for now…….”
“Yes, let us do so.”
“Q-quite right.”
Watching the terror-stricken assembly, Ma Noe, the sect’s military strategist, released a long sigh.
“Sigh.”
A bitter smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“Had the sect leader only designated a successor…….”
How many times was this now?
They held this meeting every year, yet the outcome never changed.
Though the Absolute Celestial Demon had vanished, they could not escape from his grasp.
No—they found themselves only further bound by invisible chains.
What one cannot see is far more terrifying.
‘If I only knew where he was, things would be so much better.’
Every day they searched for the Absolute Celestial Demon.
But whether he had sunk into the earth or soared into the heavens, they could find no trace of him whatsoever.
And so time simply passed, year after year, with nothing to show for their efforts.
Ten long years of it.
“Sigh—”
Ma Noe, exhaling yet another deep sigh that seemed never to end these days, clutched his head in frustration and muttered toward the man who had wrought this crisis upon them.
“Where on earth are you, sect leader?”
* * *
Deep within the Tianshan Mountain Range, where perpetual snow lay thick and heavy, there stood a small cave.
Since the ancient snows had begun to accumulate, through epochs uncounted, neither human footstep nor beast had ventured inside—until ten years ago, when a warm light began to glow within.
In the cave dwelt a man.
His hair hung wild and matted; his beard grew long and unkempt.
The robes draped across his frame had grown so threadbare from wear that the slightest touch threatened to tear them to shreds.
The man, Dokgo Guyeon, drew a sharp breath, and dark qi surged forth from within.
His hands then moved with fluid grace.
Crack!
In one sweeping motion, an enormous circle bloomed across the floor, and upon it, strange and intricate patterns etched themselves swiftly, layering one atop the other.
“How dare you torment me so?”
A thin, frigid breath escaped between his lips, spreading softly through the air.
His voice rang bright and buoyant, belying the cold that surrounded him.
Dokgo Guyeon was intoxicated with exhilaration.
At first, it had been mere curiosity.
After mastering all the Demonic Absolute Techniques recorded in the Cheonma Library, his attention had finally turned toward other disciplines beyond martial arts.
In the midst of his training, he had belatedly recalled an incomplete grand art written at the very end of the Absolute Sovereignty Art he was cultivating.
He had thought that since he had already perfected the Absolute Sovereignty Art, he would complete it soon enough.
But as one year passed and two years approached, he came to feel how foolish that belief had been.
He could not manifest the grand art.
No matter how many times he tried.
Cracks formed in his once-towering pride.
In his failure to complete it.
The grand art spoke of eternal immortality, dominion over Tianxia, such grandiose promises—none of which had interested him. But as success eluded him time and again, stubborn defiance bloomed.
So he had carelessly thrust his position as sect leader upon someone else, abandoned the Cheonma Singyogyeong, and arrived in this place.
* * *
“At last. It is complete.”
Exhilaration seized my entire being.
How long had I longed for this day.
The day the grand art would be perfected.
Before I became bound to this grand art, my pride soared without measure.
A single glance, and I could master any martial technique under heaven; medical arts, Formation Art, even grand arts themselves fell within my grasp in an instant.
Yet recently, that pride had been shattered.
By none other than the Eternal Immortal Sovereignty Grand Art inscribed before me.
“A long time indeed.”
A smile bloomed unbidden on my lips.
Ten years—an entire decade—I had poured into a single grand art.
As its completion drew near, the joy that bubbled up between my lips became impossible to contain.
Now I need only stand upon the Formation Art itself.
Good.
Savoring the victory about to arrive, I surveyed my surroundings slowly.
Though I had dwelt here for ten years, the space remained barren.
Only a single scroll and stacks of Bigu Pills.
That was all.
No water, no fresh clothes, no blankets.
The only thing of note was the Night Luminous Pearl that illuminated the cave’s interior so clearly.
Because I had achieved Immunity to Cold and Heat, the cold never touched me, and filling my belly required nothing more.
“I was so sick of it all.”
I shook my head at the sight of the Bigu Pills.
Though I had ascended to the Absolute Realm, the senses that governed my body remained unchanged.
I was no immortal sage.
And yet, day after day, I consumed those tasteless, astringent Bigu Pills.
To spare even a moment of time.
My hunger for victory had conquered even hunger itself.
Now, at last, that too was finished.
Swoosh—
The moment I set my suspended feet in motion again.
Brilliance erupted!
The grand art blazed with five-hued radiance.
‘Yes, just as I foresaw!’
Colors, seen now for the first time, wrapped around me slowly like silk.
Warmth brushed against her skin.
Tee-hee—
The corner of her eye curved like a crescent moon.
* * *
Huashan Sect, one pillar of the Nine Sects and One House.
On any other morning, the pre-dawn hours would have brimmed with cultivation, but today an eerie silence hung over everything.
“…….”
“…….”
In the Medical Hall, the core disciples of Huashan Sect—those bearing the character for “Wisdom”—stood with grave expressions fixed on a single point.
A small bed lay in the center.
The Master of the Medical Hall, his complexion ashen, carefully inserted acupuncture needles into the pale young disciple’s body.
How much time had passed?
“Exhale…….”
Once every needle was in place, the Medical Hall Master breathed out the air he’d been holding and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“It is done now.”
“Is Cheon Hui going to be alright?”
“Will he recover?”
“How is he?”
The disciples who had been holding their breath burst forth with questions, turning their anxious gazes toward Cheon Go, who served as both the Medical Hall Master and their senior.
“I have taken every measure available to us.”
Swift—
Before those words had even finished, Hyeon Ryeo, a female disciple whose eyes were bloodshot with tears, moved as if seized by urgency.
She grasped the small hand of Cheon Hui, who lay motionless, and her gaze grew sorrowful.
Perhaps this winter had been unusually bitter.
When she had gone to find him in the early dawn, Cheon Hui—already frail—had already collapsed and lost consciousness.
“If only we had hurried just a little…….”
Tears welled up in Hyeon Ryeo’s eyes.
At the sight of tears from Hyeon Ryeo, who was known among Huashan’s disciples as the most rational and clear-headed, the others expressed their sorrow.
They all knew how dearly she cherished Cheon Hui.
“No matter how beloved a master is, one cannot follow in such footsteps while still so young…….”
At her trembling words, thick with grief, all the disciples fell silent.
Cheon Hui was the sole disciple of a departed master.
Since entering Huashan with his master’s hand in his own, his health had never permitted him to learn martial arts, yet his innate nature was so righteous and pure that he was beloved by all.
As they bit their lips in sorrow—
A twitch—
Cheon Hui’s finger moved.
“……!”
Hyeon Ryeo’s head snapped around.
Everyone’s eyes widened in shock.
“Sect Leader.”
At Hyeon Ryeo’s urgent words, Hyeon Sang, the sect leader of Huashan, nodded at once and turned to address Cheon Go.
“Is there no other method?”
“I cannot offer certainty, but……if our sect’s Purple Perilla Pill is administered, it may yet produce some effect even for one who has never cultivated martial arts.”
His calm voice spread through the room.
Yet beneath that measured tone lay something startling.
What was the Purple Perilla Pill?
Shaolin’s Great Return Pill,
Wudang’s Tai Qing Pill.
It was Huashan’s supreme elixir, one whose efficacy matched these two renowned medicines known throughout Tianxia.
Yet they would give such a treasure to a young disciple who had not even begun to study the deeper arts?
Had any other martial masters heard of this, they would have collapsed in astonishment.
But Hyeon Sang did not hesitate.
Cheon Hui was a treasure of their sect.
More precious than any elixir.
“Very well.”
Cheon Go’s eyes gleamed as he turned his head.
“Jeok Un.”
As if awaiting his call, Jeok Un, the sub-master of the Medical Hall, scurried in.
“You called for me?”
“Go and bring the Purple Perilla Pill.”
“You mean the Purple Perilla Pill?”
Jeok Un’s eyes widened dramatically.
Then, spotting Cheon Hui collapsed on the ground, he nodded quickly.
“I’ll fetch it at once.”
Moments later, Jeok Un returned with the wooden box.
Whoosh—
He withdrew the needle embedded in Cheon Hui’s flesh.
Then he slowly retrieved the Purple Perilla Pill.
As it emerged, the rich fragrance of plum blossoms spread in all directions.
“Please, please…….”
“I’m begging you.”
“I’ll do my very best.”
Hearing their desperate voices, Cheon Go produced a long needle and, without hesitation, drove it deep into Cheon Hui’s Baihui Acupoint. Then, with both hands, he crushed the Purple Perilla Pill and slowly poured it through the parted lips.
Press down.
And with that, two diverging fates became interlocked.
Deep in a dark sleep, Dokgo Guyeon suddenly awoke—drawn to consciousness by the thick fragrance seeping past his throat. Yet his mind remained clouded.
‘The Grand Art—where is it?’
The only thought that came through clearly.
Then.
“……the Chui Palace Acupoint is…… difficult…….”
“How can…… we now…… live…….”
Muffled voices, as though heard from deep beneath water, reached his ears.
‘Voices?’
The first thing that arose was bewilderment. The cave where he had dwelt lay in the deepest reaches of the Tianshan Mountain Range—a place where neither man nor beast could easily venture.
Yet voices were reaching him.
And not just any voices—multiple voices bearing the weight of long years.
For a moment, he thought of the elders of his sect.
But then he shook his head.
‘Even if they somehow found this place where I hid, those old fools would never come.’
They had resented him.
Ever since becoming sect leader, he had dismissed most of what they wanted simply because it annoyed him.
They must have welcomed his disappearance instead.
As he conjured the image of them laughing—
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
His body suddenly convulsed.
Following that, an indescribable, vicious pain crashed down upon him all at once.
‘What the hell is this!’
The sudden onslaught of agony made his mind reel.
For some fifty years, ever since he had perfected the Absolute Sovereignty Art and ascended to the Absolute Realm, he had felt no pain at all.
Perhaps for that very reason.
The pain he felt now, after so long, came crashing down with far greater intensity than before.
In shock, he urgently sought its cause.
His blood vessels throughout his entire body had narrowed to the point where a single needle could scarcely pass, and all his muscles had consequently atrophied.
‘Damn it!’
Swallowing the curse he dared not speak aloud, he desperately began to widen his blood vessels.
Crackle—
Perhaps because he was forcibly tearing them open.
Unspeakable pain assailed him.
‘Damn! It hurts like hell!’
But he could not stop.
To move at all, he first had to widen the blood vessels leading to his Baihui Acupoint.
He hastily steadied himself with a temporary measure, then, concentrating his mind, turned his thoughts to understanding the situation.
‘The Grand Art clearly succeeded…….’
Just then, the muffled voice that had sounded as though underwater became clear, striking his ears sharply.
“Ah, the Celestial Worthy has blessed us.”
“The virtue that our ancestors of the Huashan Sect amassed shines forth.”
‘What? The Huashan Sect?’
He was struck dumb, as though hit on the back of the head by an enormous hammer.
‘What the hell is all this nonsense?’

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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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