Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 112

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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 112
“Master!”
The boy running toward him with quick strides, Jong Hyeon, burrowed into Ha U Jin’s embrace.
He’d only just turned thirteen.
Jong Hyeon, whose height barely reached Ha U Jin’s waist, buried his face against his chest for a moment before slowly lifting his head and asking.
“Did everything go well?”
Ha U Jin, watching Jong Hyeon gaze up at him with bright, eager eyes, let a smile cross his lips—one that Cheon Hui was seeing for the first time.
“Yes, I’ve wrapped it up nicely.”
Ha U Jin’s smile did not fade.
‘So this is why they say to nurture a disciple.’
He had deliberately refused to take on disciples before, had given no instruction.
He’d believed himself still incomplete, lacking the capacity to teach.
Until recently, that conviction had not wavered.
But lately, his mind had changed.
A faint glance.
He looked at Cheon Hui from the corner of his eye.
When he met the disciple whom Hyeon Gang had praised without end, the boy having grown splendidly, Ha U Jin felt envy stirring within him.
A student who surpassed his master.
How enviable such a thing was.
A single meeting.
That alone was enough to change his thinking, and he accepted a disciple directly into his tutelage.
Character, skill, talent.
After careful selection, that chosen Direct Disciple was none other than Jong Hyeon, whom he now held by the waist.
Ha U Jin gently stroked Jong Hyeon’s head as the boy gazed up at him with a smile.
“Have you been training diligently?”
“Yes!”
Jong Hyeon answered with spirited enthusiasm.
“Good work.”
Then Cheon Hui asked Ha U Jin.
“The person you wanted to introduce was your disciple?”
“That’s right.”
Ha U Jin set about gently detaching Jong Hyeon, who clung to him.
“Pay your respects. This is Cheon Hui, my close friend’s disciple.”
At Ha U Jin’s words, Jong Hyeon cupped his small hands together and bowed.
“Homage to the Buddha—I am Jong Hyeon.”
“I’m Cheon Hui.”
After giving this cursory reply, Cheon Hui lost interest in Jong Hyeon and turned his attention elsewhere, and Ha U Jin was taken aback.
“That’s all?”
“What do you mean?”
“The greeting.”
“Is there more than that?”
“His age, what he likes…”
With irritation.
Cheon Hui questioned Jong Hyeon.
“How old are you?”
“Thirteen, sir.”
Having heard the answer, Cheon Hui immediately turned his head back to Ha U Jin and said.
“Is that enough now?”
……
Ha U Jin’s words caught in his throat.
In the end, he shook his head and sent a Spiritual Transmission to Jong Hyeon.
‘I wish you would ask questions first.’
Jong Hyeon’s face crumpled.
It hadn’t been many months since becoming a Direct Disciple, but in that time the Soft Sword Swordsman had cared for him with meticulous devotion.
He fed him Spirit Medicine from sources unknown, taught him martial arts with sincere effort.
To a degree that the other priests of the Jongnam Sect would envy.
Yet now he was attending to Cheon Hui instead of him.
‘Master has never acted this way before.’
Jealousy flared in Jong Hyeon in an instant, and he thrust out his lower lip in a sullen pout.
Though dissatisfied with the situation, he lacked the ability to use Spiritual Transmission yet, so this expression of displeasure was all he could manage.
At that moment, a thought struck Jong Hyeon like lightning.
‘That’s it!’
Jong Hyeon immediately took up a martial stance.
“If I may be so bold, I would like to learn a technique from you through sparring.”
Ha U Jin interjected in alarm.
“W-wait, Jong Hyeon! What are you doing?”
“Did not Master once say during a sparring match that the best way to truly know your opponent is to cross blades with them?”
……
Ha U Jin found himself at a loss for words.
He had indeed taught him that, but in the present circumstances, wasn’t this stepping beyond propriety?
“Even so, in a situation like this……”
Ha U Jin was about to press the matter when—
“Mm-hmm, a fine principle you’ve been taught.”
Cheon Hui nodded slowly.
The sentiment pleased him greatly.
When martial artists test their skills against each other, they reveal their true selves.
That statement was no different from saying they each give their opponent their sincerity and their full strength, was it?
Cheon Hui turned to Jong Hyeon and answered.
“Very well. Let’s spar.”
* * *
“Infinite Buddha. I am in your debt.”
With small hands pressed together in salute, Jong Hyeon gripped the sword at his hip and drew it with force.
Whether custom-made for his frame or not, he wielded a blade proportioned to his youth.
‘His stance is solid.’
Cheon Hui studied him from top to bottom, then crooked a single finger.
“Come.”
“…How disrespectful!”
Jong Hyeon’s eyes narrowed with irritation.
Unable to contain his anger, he drove off the ground and rushed forward.
Then he brought his sword down with all his might.
The sole hard sword technique of Jongnam!
The Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law.
As the blade, charged with all his force, descended toward Cheon Hui’s shoulder—
Clang!
Jong Hyeon flew backward.
He tumbled across the ground, sprawling backward, unable to gather his wits.
It had been a strike infused with all his Internal Force.
Stopped by a single finger.
‘H-how is that possible?’
But there was no time for shock.
Cheon Hui’s finger had already appeared before him, thrusting toward his forehead.
“Ugh!”
Jong Hyeon clenched his teeth and gripped his sword.
“Ha!”
With a cry, he raised his blade.
The sword, infused with all his strength, rotated like the full moon, gleaming with a chill.
But then—
Cheon Hui’s finger moved with peculiar grace, sliding along the blade’s spine, drawing ever closer.
…!
Jong Hyeon sensed there was no escape; immediately he released his grip and crossed both hands to block the finger.
Tap.
“Huh?”
Jong Hyeon gasped in confusion.
Unlike the tremendous force he had felt, what touched his forearm was impossibly gentle.
As he stared at Cheon Hui in bewilderment—
“Your judgment was sound, but you lack power.”
A quiet voice reached his ears.
Cheon Hui withdrew his hand, pressing Jong Hyeon’s arm lightly with his finger before stepping back to create distance.
“Pick up your sword again.”
Jong Hyeon hesitated, then retrieved his blade.
He raised his sword again.
Cheon Hui watched Jong Hyeon hesitate before resuming his stance, his gaze steady and unblinking.
‘That’s the Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law, isn’t it? But it was different when we discussed it in theory.’
Now that he was witnessing the technique the Jongnam Sword Saint had described in theory, Cheon Hui felt the difference keenly.
‘So practical execution is what matters, not mere discussion.’
Cheon Hui recalled the sword technique Jong Hyeon had just displayed and added his counsel.
“This time, when you swing, grip the blade with both hands, then follow through without breaking your wrist forward—just let it flow naturally.”
“…Don’t break my wrist?”
Jong Hyeon, almost entranced by Cheon Hui’s words, carefully picked up the sword.
He gripped it again, etching the instruction into his mind.
‘Don’t break it… don’t break it!’
Then he swung the sword once more.
The same sword stance as before.
Yet with merely that adjustment—not breaking his wrist—a fierce, commanding force unfolded.
But then.
Thud.
The blade was blocked again.
“You’re improving, but there’s still work to do. Perhaps I should show you directly.”
A sword had appeared in Cheon Hui’s hand—but it wasn’t his own. It was Jong Hyeon’s.
“…!”
Jong Hyeon started in alarm, staring down at his empty hands.
“How did you—?!”
“How? Like this.”
Cheon Hui smiled faintly.
“Watch.”
Cheon Hui’s sword moved slowly.
Flawless, without a single deviation from the Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law that Jong Hyeon had just demonstrated.
When it unfolded, it was fierce and commanding; when it sought transformation, each move was fluid and cutting.
After displaying the Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law, Cheon Hui tossed the sword to Jong Hyeon, whose mouth hung open in astonishment.
“Did you see it?”
“Yes, yes,”
Jong Hyeon caught the thrown sword hurriedly, startled.
“Now try to imitate it.”
“That… you want me to do that?”
“What, can’t you manage something this simple?”
“No, no! I can do it!”
Jong Hyeon’s posture stiffened with sudden discipline, and he swallowed hard before raising his sword.
And just as before, he began the Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law once more.
But midway—
Crack.
“The flow still isn’t natural to you, it seems. Though you’re far better than before.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Jong Hyeon forgot his earlier jealousy entirely, his eyes bright and eager as he looked at Cheon Hui.
Then Cheon Hui raised his hand.
“Now defend yourself.”
“Yes…? Huh!”
Jong Hyeon’s breath caught.
Cheon Hui, who had been standing about three paces away, was suddenly before him.
And at the same instant—
Thud!
A heavy impact crashed through him, and his vision went white.
“Ack!”
Whoosh! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Caught by the palm strike’s force, Jong Hyeon bounced across the ground several times before crumpling in a sprawl.
“Jong Hyeon!”
Ha U Jin rushed to him, checking his rolled-back eyes and feeling for his pulse.
“Phew.”
He exhaled in relief.
His eyes remained unfocused, but fortunately his pulse beat strong and steady.
“She must have lost consciousness.”
He wiped the cold sweat from his brow with his sleeve, then turned his gaze toward Cheon Hui.
‘At least he showed restraint.’
Had it been anyone else, they would have leapt up in fury at seeing their disciple reduced to such a state—but Ha U Jin did not.
The reason was simple.
His opponent was Cheon Hui.
Considering Cheon Hui’s realm, which towered so far above his own, this was merely a light touch—mercy, even.
“Perhaps it was for the best.”
With that, he lifted Jong Hyeon onto his back.
Of late, Jong Hyeon had grown insufferably arrogant.
Small wonder—he had caught the eye of Ha U Jin, who was known never to take disciples, and become a Direct Disciple; moreover, he now received all of the Jongnam Sect’s resources.
Any person in his position would have grown conceited.
‘I hope this brings him to his senses.’
Ha U Jin laid Jong Hyeon on his side, then turned to Cheon Hui.
“What did you make of him?”
“He has talent.”
His frame was excellent, and from the amount of Spirit Medicine he’d consumed, his Internal Force was more than adequate.
But.
“His Sword Technique, though—that leaves much to be desired.”
Ha U Jin laughed ruefully.
Just as Cheon Hui had said, Jong Hyeon possessed both acuity and considerable talent.
But his Sword Technique was the problem.
He simply could not handle a blade properly.
Though learning footwork was difficult enough, this bordered on the severe.
Ha U Jin laughed again, shaking his head.
Jong Hyeon’s Internal Force and other martial skills grew by the day, yet no matter how much time passed, his Sword Technique alone refused to improve.
“Why not teach him a different Sword Technique?”
“Ha, I’m already doing that.”
In fact, he’d recently shown him several new techniques.
But perhaps because of his youth.
Jong Hyeon had become obsessed with the Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law, a hard style, and refused to learn other techniques.
‘I hope today taught him a lesson.’
Ha U Jin recalled the final strike Cheon Hui had unleashed.
Softness Controls Hardness.
The soft Soft Sword Technique that Cheon Hui wielded had overwhelmed and shattered Jong Hyeon’s hard blade.
“What Sword Technique was that, just now?”
“It doesn’t really have a name.”
Cheon Hui shrugged his shoulders.
He’d simply thought to try deploying the Dae Cheon Gang Geom Law in reverse, so he’d created and immediately executed the Sword Stance on the spot.
But Ha U Jin, unaware of this, gazed at him thoughtfully and nodded.
‘A secret technique, it seems.’
Laboring under this misunderstanding, he smiled as he studied Cheon Hui.
‘He’s so much like Hyeon Gang.’
Ha U Jin sank into a moment of reverie.
Hyeon Gang’s first impression had not been particularly favorable.
Not surprising, really—Hyeon Gang had heard rumors of Ha U Jin, then slipped away alone to seek out the Jongnam Sect and requested a Sparring Match.
But that had changed.
‘When I took him as my disciple.’
It must have been from that very day.
That day, Hyeon Gang had smiled constantly.
It was utterly unlike the past, when coaxing even one laugh from him in a day was difficult.
‘You took a disciple?’
‘I did.’
‘You enjoy it that much?’
‘Enjoy it? I do indeed. Even though he’s still young, just holding his small hand makes me smile.’
He would boast endlessly of his disciple whenever he saw Ha U Jin training.
‘How old is he?’
‘Eight now, I suppose.’
‘Eight? He’s grown considerably.’
‘Ha, he has indeed. Quite a bit. What do you say—won’t you come visit the Huashan Sect and see him?’
‘Well, if I find the time, I’ll come by.’
‘Time? When have you ever had leisure to spare?’
‘If you ever do find yourself with free time, why don’t you try taking on a disciple of your own?’
‘A disciple? With my skill?’
‘Try it anyway. You’ll find your life changes considerably.’
‘Will it really change so much?’
‘It will, trust me. Oh, and here’s the thing—when you do take a disciple, my disciple will meet yours, and you two will become friends just like we are. How’s that sound? Isn’t it wonderful?’
Hyeon Gang must have known something then.
He pressed the matter with stubborn insistence—that their disciples must meet and become companions—and only after securing Ha U Jin’s agreement did they part ways.
It was their last meeting.
‘Hyeon Gang, you were right.’
In those days, Ha U Jin had not understood what Hyeon Gang meant.
Taking on a disciple would change one’s life—the idea had seemed absurd.
But now, he understood clearly.
‘My life truly has changed.’
The days of pursuing only one goal—to grow stronger—had given way to something else.
Though he had merely added one disciple, Jong Hyeon, to his existence, it felt as though gentle rain had fallen on parched earth.
‘If only I’d hurried a little.’
The memory of Hyeon Gang laughing on that final day, hoping to see their disciples meet, drew a bitter smile to Ha U Jin’s lips.
The thought—that if only he’d moved faster, Hyeon Gang might still be here—continued to prick him like a thorn.
“I wish they could have grown close.”
Ha U Jin gazed at Cheon Hui, his voice distant as he recalled those distant years.
‘Like Hyeon Gang and I.’
The words died unspoken.
He had no desire to say something awkward and leave them caught between states.
He wanted only what came naturally.
Yes, as it had been between Hyeon Gang and himself.
He merely hoped they would grow close.
Ha U Jin set Jong Hyeon down gently on the ground and placed his hand on the boy’s body.
As Internal Force flowed into him, the unconscious Jong Hyeon’s eyes opened.
“……Master?”
Jong Hyeon looked at Ha U Jin’s face in surprise, but his expression gradually grew somber.
“……I lost.”
Jong Hyeon bit his lip.
Ha U Jin regarded his disciple with satisfaction and spoke.
“Are you frustrated?”
“Yes.”
Though he answered calmly, Jong Hyeon’s hands clenched into fists without his knowing.
Ha U Jin’s gaze warmed.
“If you have come to recognize that emotion, then this defeat is worth far more than any victory.”
“Never forget that feeling.”
“I understand. But that person—…….”
He shook his head urgently, searching for someone, and upon spotting Cheon Hui, his eyes brightened. Then, without warning, he called out:
“Brother!”

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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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