Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 13

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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 13
“Heh, heh, heh.”
Go Gyeong-ja, the elder of the Hangsan Sect who had claimed victory in this martial duel with ease, let out a laugh.
It was only a small sound, but it was more than enough to unsettle those sitting nearby.
It was Mu Yeong-ja, the elder of the Taesan Sect, who broke the frozen silence first.
“The future of the Hangsan Sect looks promising indeed.”
“Fortune merely favored us this day.”
Tae Gyeong-ja, who had been watching the congratulations exchanged between the two victorious sword sects over the Hwasan Sect, stiffened his expression.
As the elder of the only defeated sect—the Songsan Sect—he could not bring himself to raise his head.
‘They all gritted their teeth to defeat the Hwasan Sect, save for their own disciples.’
He reproached himself briefly, then relaxed his rigid countenance. Soon after, with a bitter smile, he offered his congratulations to Go Gyeong-ja.
“Congratulations.”
“Much obliged.”
Go Gyeong-ja replied with a smile.
Yet the pupils hidden behind his narrowed eyes held a mockery.
‘The Songsan Sect has had its day.’
Due to the outcome of the Five Peaks Tournament four years prior, the Hangsan Sect had been treated as the lowliest among the Five Peaks Sword Sects.
But now the situation had shifted.
“Mmm…….”
Jang Mun-in’s expression was no better.
The hollow smile that had lingered at the corners of his mouth had vanished entirely, and his complexion grew steadily darker.
‘Jeok Geom has lost.’
It had exceeded all expectations.
One victory, two defeats.
If they lost once more, the host sect that had inaugurated this tournament after twenty-eight years would face unprecedented disgrace.
‘How arrogant I have been.’
His mouth turned bitter.
A situation he had believed they would easily win was unfolding in the opposite manner entirely.
The disciples of the rival sects, whom he had thought possessed strength comparable to before, had risen to a level beyond comparison.
As Jang Mun-in’s face, which had smiled throughout, grew progressively darker, the elders of the victorious sects’ expressions brightened in turn.
‘Tsk, tsk—past their prime.’
‘The order of the Five Peaks Sword Sects may well shift in the days to come.’
Just as the two were lost in anticipation of such a bright future to come.
Whoosh—
A boy dressed in a light blue-white martial robe ascended the Martial Stage with a brilliant flourish.
“The Changwun Miryubo……!”
“What—how can a child…….”
All gasped in shock.
The Changwun Miryubo was one of the esoteric footwork techniques rarely mastered by those trained in the Hyungsan Sect.
“This is Gang Un, our sect’s second disciple.”
Jeok U-ja, the elder of the Hyungsan Sect, spoke calmly, as though he had been waiting for this very moment.
As if he had been scheming all along.
‘That cunning serpent!’
‘He has kept this hidden all this time.’
‘So this is the Hyungsan Sect’s true nature.’
The three elders bit their lips.
They had wondered why he had been so quiet, merely watching—now it was clear he had been aiming for this all along.
Jeok U-ja smiled faintly, apparently satisfied with their reaction.
“So this is the final duel.”
His eyes grew still as he spoke.
The outcome of this duel would determine the future path of the Five Peaks Sword Sects with unmistakable clarity.
Jeok U-ja’s pupils gleamed.
‘Not as strong as before.’
A youth in the bloom of his years, clad in the robes of the Hwasan Sect, ascended the arena.
“Senior brother!”
“We’re counting on you!”
“You can do this!”
Waves of encouragement poured from all directions.
Jeok Geom, the second disciple of the Hwasan Sect receiving such support, was frozen with tension.
‘I have to win.’
He’d thought his turn would come without incident, but the situation was proving far more difficult than he’d anticipated.
‘I cannot lose. I absolutely cannot.’
He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.
Jeok Geom was the most promising of the second-generation disciples, bearing the hopes not only of Hwasan Sect but of his own family, the Bipung Trading Company, on his shoulders.
‘Ha! A Daoist of Hwasan Sect has been born into our house!’
He thought of his father, who had admired martial artists but lacked the talent to study the martial arts himself.
When his father heard that he’d become a disciple of Hwasan Sect, the man had wept with joy and thrown a feast.
And that was merely the beginning.
Hwasan Sect had supported him both materially and in every other way.
The weight pressed down on his shoulders.
‘Everything rests on my hands.’
Tense, Jeok Geom approached Gang Un, who stood at the center of the Martial Stage, and bowed respectfully.
“I am Jeok Geom of Hwasan Sect.”
“I am Gang Un of Hyungsan Sect.”
The two exchanged light greetings, then turned and stepped apart to an appropriate distance.
The blades whispered as they were drawn.
They faced each other, swords drawn.
Cheon Hwi read the outcome in an instant.
“He’s lost.”
Rather—the moment he’d laid eyes on Jeok Geom, the result of this duel had been obvious.
Cheon Go, startled by Cheon Hwi’s abrupt pronouncement, asked with a puzzled expression.
“Who loses, then, teacher?”
“Jeok Geom.”
Cheon Go narrowed his eyes at the answer delivered so matter-of-factly and asked quietly.
“Why do you think so?”
“Look at that and you’ll know.”
“Look at what, exactly?”
“His sword. The sword.”
Cheon Go’s eyes moved swiftly as he observed Cheon Hwi’s irritable tone.
His gaze fixed on Jeok Geom, and his eyes hardened.
Just as Cheon Hwi had said, the blade was trembling.
Badly enough to see from this distance.
“I didn’t realize he was this nervous.”
“If his sword’s tip shakes that badly, it seems he’s lost his composure to nervousness—can he even properly execute his martial arts?”
Cheon Hwi, still speaking, kept his gaze fixed on Jeok Geom.
The state of the man was hopeless.
How nervous he must be.
Even the fingers gripping the blade trembled.
His eyes had glazed over entirely.
His vision had gone numb.
Which meant his field of sight was closed off, and if that were the case, he would certainly struggle to react to whatever techniques his opponent wielded.
“When you’re nervous, things you could normally see become invisible, and things you could normally do become impossible. Add to that the fact that his muscles are locked tight, and that sword he usually swings with ease will move only the slightest fraction against his will.”
At Cheon Hwi’s explanation, Cheon Go nodded, and naturally continued the thought aloud.
“Still, as time passes, the nervousness will fade.”
At Cheon Go’s objection, those nearby who’d been listening quietly gave shallow nods.
Cheon Hwi regarded them with pity.
‘Sigh—even looking at that, they still think such things? If Malko, the Daoist who once made Hwasan Sect stand higher than even Wudang and Shaolin, were to hear such words now, he’d have quite a fit.’
Certainly, Jeok Geom’s nervousness would fade eventually.
But only after this duel was finished.
Both fighters stomped the ground simultaneously as they stood facing each other on the Martial Stage.
The two blades collided in midair.
A metallic crash split the air.
Jeok Geom’s sword form twisted unnaturally, and blood bloomed across his cheek.
Cheon Hwi’s words had proven true.
Cheon Go let out a small noise of understanding as he watched.
Just as Cheon Hwi had said.
“Your student was right.”
Cheon Hwi stared at Cheon Go, whose brow was now creased with wrinkles, and added a final observation.
This was beginning to take shape—the proof that even the greatest among them could falter when the mind failed.
Cheon Hwi stared at Cheon Go, lines etched across his forehead, and added his words.
“Myeong Gyeong Ji Soo has shattered. When the sword won’t move as he wills it, his composure fragments, and then even the principles of swordcraft he already understood begin to tangle.”
Cheon Hwi spoke without inflection.
To unfold a proper sword technique, mind and body had to be in perfect harmony.
But to lose that composure?
Collapse was inevitable.
Whoosh!
At that moment, Jeok Geom detonated his internal energy.
The plum blossoms that had been wavering and falling surged skyward, carrying the momentum of an explosion.
“Ha!”
At the precise instant, Jeok Geom swung his sword.
His deployment of the Rakei Sword Technique was different now—destructive.
Clang! Clang!
Watching Jeok Geom’s relentless onslaught, Cheon Go brushed his chest and let out a light laugh.
“So the tension’s finally broken, it seems.”
“I don’t think that’s quite it.”
Cheon Hwi denied it flatly.
Cheon Go’s face hardened.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not watching his opponent at all.”
“Not watching…”
“He’s not looking at what sword technique his opponent is using, what footwork he’s employing—nothing. He’s just concentrating on unfolding his own sword technique as if he were drilling alone.”
Cheon Go’s gaze turned toward the Martial Stage.
Just as Cheon Hwi had said, Jeok Geom was deploying the Rakei Sword Technique regardless of what Gang Un was doing.
“Yet he’s still driving forward.”
“Does that really look like he’s driving forward?”
……
Cheon Go fell silent.
Truth be told, he’d also sensed something slightly off.
Jeok Geom continued unfolding the Rakei Sword Technique, pushing relentlessly, yet Gang Un—retreating step by step—remained at ease.
Cheon Hwi continued without pause.
“You need to know who your opponent is and what martial arts they’re employing. Only then can you discern when an opening appears, how they’ll respond to your strike, and exploit their weakness.”
The principle of combat drawn from experience.
Know Your Enemy, Know Yourself.
If you know your enemy and know yourself, a hundred battles hold no peril—that was the saying.
Yet Gang Un was the one approaching this duel with such deliberation.
‘The opponent is watching so carefully, but Jeok Geom is just wildly swinging his own blade.’
A sigh escaped unbidden.
Jeok Geom’s skill certainly appeared superior to his opponent’s.
But what good would that do?
Too rigid in his state, he was displaying perhaps half his true ability—if that.
Because of that, his judgment had muddied, and mistakes he would never ordinarily make came one after another.
‘Lack of experience.’
Cheon Hwi, finishing his thought, added a comment.
“From here on, he’ll be driven into a defensive position.”
The moment his words ended, the gazes of Cheon Go and the others who had been listening in from the sidelines swung toward the Martial Stage.
“Ha!”
Jeok Geom, drawing all his inner power aloft, gave no respite and continued his relentless assault.
The Rakka Yusu form, first of the sequence, along with the Rakei Giryu and others.
Jeok Geom unfolded form after form of the Rakei Sword Technique, pressing Gang Un with mounting force.
Crack.
Soon Gang Un was driven to the corner of the Martial Stage, and Jeok Geom raised his sword high.
Whoosh!
He detonated his internal energy and poured it directly into the blade, striking downward with ferocious speed.
A form his master had strictly forbidden him to use unless life itself hung in the balance—the Rakei Gangcheon.
Then.
Flash!
Gang Un’s eyes blazed with sudden clarity.
He immediately repositioned his grip and, exploiting the opening that Jeok Geom had laid bare in his abdomen and shoulder while executing the Rakei Gangcheon, drove his blade into that exposed space.
Crash!
The Rakei Gangcheon, unable to complete its full arc, was halted mid-strike and deflected to the side.
The blade that Gang Un had desperately been defending with suddenly bristled with sharp momentum.
Screee!
It swung through the air like a flash of light.
The situation shifted in an instant.
“…….”
Those who had been listening in secret opened their eyes wide, watching the situation unfold exactly as Cheon Hwi had predicted moments before.
Then Cheon Hwi clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, lost.”
The moment those words ended.
Clang!
The sword shot upward into the sky.
The instant it hit the ground, the disciples of the Hyungsan Sect erupted in cheers.
“Waahhh!”
In stark contrast, the Hwasan disciples watched in bewilderment, unable to comprehend what had happened. After a moment, once they’d grasped the situation, sighs spilled from their lips.
“Ah.”
“Senior…….”
To lose one’s blade was a more shameful thing to a Swordmaster than death itself.
Jeok Geom’s pupils trembled with shock.
‘I… I dropped the sword…….’
Gang Un, wearing an awkward expression, approached and folded his hands in respectful salute.
“That was a fine duel.”
Crunch!
Jeok Geom clenched both fists tightly.
Gang Un before him was no easy opponent, true, but had Jeok Geom properly displayed the martial arts he’d learned, victory should have been his.
‘Fool! Stupid fool, choking under pressure, unable to unleash my full arts, losing so miserably! Stupid fool!’
His anger turned inward.
Most of all, the fact that he’d been crushed by the pressure and hadn’t displayed his martial arts properly.
He bit his lip and unclenched his fists.
Drip, drip—
From how hard he’d squeezed, blood trickled from his palm where his nails had dug in.
Jeok Geom raised his blood-soaked hands and slowly offered his salute.
“……I learned much.”
The Hwasan disciples held their breath.
Until they’d come to Dorim Plain.
No—until the first duel, they had naturally thought the Five Peaks Tournament was a festival of inevitable victory.
But what was it now?
A shocking succession of defeats.
Those who witnessed the results one by one fell silent, and the place where they gathered was finally swallowed by silence.
* * *
The Five Peaks Tournament had come to an end.
From the Hwasan Sect’s perspective, the results were far from favorable, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Shortly after, Hyun Sang, the leader of the Hwasan Sect, slowly climbed onto the Martial Stage.
‘Our sect’s reputation will surely suffer.’
Though his heart ached at the Hwasan Sect’s defeat, for the sake of seeing the Five Peaks Tournament through, he had no choice but to step forward.
“Let all the victors come forward.”
As if waiting for those words to finish, four youths came up at once.
A bitter smile crossed Jang Mun-in’s lips as he observed the situation—save for Jeok Un, all the others were disciples from different sword sects.
“I offer my congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
All four bowed deeply in unison.
Jang Mun-in, watching the four pay their respects, turned to look behind him, and a middle-aged Daoist carrying his arms full of swords came up.
The blades he had brought were gifts commissioned and crafted specifically for those who had won in this Five Peaks Tournament.
They were swords forged from Baekryeon Jeonggang, an exceptionally rare material.
While they could not claim the rank of legendary blades, they were swords that every Swordmaster dreamed of possessing at least once.
And there were four of them.
The middle-aged Daoist presented the four swords to Jang Mun-in with solemn reverence.
“My thanks.”
Jang Mun-in accepted the swords from the Daoist and approached those standing in formation.
Studying the faces of the four, he first approached Jeok Un of the Hwasan Sect, who had claimed the earliest victory, and spoke to him.
“Your Cheonryu Sword Technique was excellent. However, I noticed that your grip still loosens when you wield the blade. Should you refine that and deepen your inner cultivation, you will be capable of far greater artistry with the sword.”
“……Thank you.”
Jang Mun-in’s words struck Jeok Un deeply, and his eyes glistened.
“Heh, why the long face on such a fine day?”
Jang Mun-in spoke gently, and one by one he handed each of them a sword along with his counsel. Those who received them beamed with joy.
At last, Jang Mun-in approached Gang Un and offered him a sword, his final words spoken softly.
“Your footwork and swordplay are quite lively and swift. But had you channeled a bit more Internal Energy into your final form, or taken one more step, it would have been far superior to what you showed.”
“I’m grateful for the guidance.”
Gang Un accepted the sword and bowed his head.
Just as Jang Mun-in began to turn away—
“Might this humble one speak a word with you, Master?”
Jang Mun-in stopped mid-turn.
He looked back at Gang Un and asked.
“What is it?”
“I have long admired the Plum Blossom Swordmasters of the Hwasan Sect.”
Jang Mun-in’s eyebrows twitched.
Hyungsan Sect admiring Hwasan’s Plum Blossom Swordmasters?
There was something odd about those words.
“If it please you, grant me the opportunity to witness the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique as performed by the Plum Blossom Swordmasters.”
“……!”
The faces of Hwasan Sect’s senior members hardened.
Hwasan had no Plum Blossom Swordmasters at present.
And everyone who had come here knew that fact.
So what could such words mean?
A mockery of Hwasan!
Jang Mun-in fixed Gang Un with a direct gaze.
“You speak of the Plum Blossom Sword Technique?”
“I do.”
Despite the silent pressure, Gang Un held his ground.
As their eyes locked and began to tangle—
‘That small figure…….’
Beyond Gang Un’s shoulder, Jang Mun-in caught sight of a small figure trying to slip away from Dorim Plain.
At once, Jang Mun-in smiled gently.
“Very well.”
This time it was Gang Un who was taken aback.
Jang Mun-in, seeing the bewilderment on his face, narrowed his eyes slightly before continuing.
“However, I regret to say the Plum Blossom Swordmasters are not currently residing at our sect due to pressing affairs.”
“Then…….”
“Would it suffice instead if one of my first-generation disciples, who can perform the Plum Blossom Sword Technique flawlessly, faced you?”
Jang Mun-in cut off Gang Un’s words and spoke decisively.
Gang Un’s face stiffened almost imperceptibly.
“Among your first-generation disciples, you say?”
“Heh, heh, don’t worry. The one I speak of is roughly your age.”
The Hwasan disciples stirred with excitement.
“Someone who isn’t a Plum Blossom Swordmaster but can perform the technique flawlessly?”
“Here? Among us?”
“Who on earth could it be?”
Then—
Swoosh—
Jang Mun-in slowly turned his head.
At that gesture, all eyes followed the direction of his gaze.
In that instant, Jang Mun-in opened his mouth.
“Is it not so? Cheon Hwi.”
The young Daoist who had been trying to slip away from Dorim Plain froze and turned around.
The still-youthful Daoist, feeling the weight of every eye upon him, furrowed his brow and pointed at himself with one finger.
“……Me?”

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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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