Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 183

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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 183
“There’s quite a difference.”
Cheon Hui observed the battlefield.
The Attackers who had overwhelmed the guards moments before now crumbled helplessly the instant they collided with the Bi Geom Group and the Hwa Ryeong Group.
Jeok Geom and Cheon Hyang were particularly impressive. All their training bore fruit—with every sweep of their blades, another Attacker fell.
They moved like fish returning to water.
The gap in skill was overwhelming.
‘Just as I expected.’
Cheon Hui’s eyes narrowed.
In their previous joint operation, hadn’t the Huashan Sect already dominated ordinary disciples?
The real deciding factor was whether skilled experts were present.
And the skilled expert who had shifted that balance before was nowhere to be found here.
He was somewhere else.
Cheon Hui turned his head sharply.
“Don’t you think you should get up?”
The man he addressed lay face-down on the ground, voice low and measured.
With his head twisted halfway around, the man made no response to the question.
“Going to keep playing dead? Much longer and you won’t be able to do anything at all.”
Cheon Hui let out a scoff.
It was absurd.
He was holding his breath, suppressing every trace of his presence.
It looked like the Ghost Breath Technique, though there seemed no particular purpose to it.
‘No, there is one.’
The man’s form came into view.
Eyes sharpened by deep cultivation tracked the movements of his inner energy with perfect clarity.
“It’s too late to run anyway.”
The man’s head stirred slightly.
His hair rippled, revealing between the strands a pair of chilling eyes that cast their gleam outward.
Soon he planted both hands against the ground.
“…That was quite a painful strike.”
His voice was toneless as he slowly pushed himself upright.
Very slowly.
“You’re unhurried.”
Cheon Hui waited patiently.
There was time enough.
The Bi Geom Group and Hwa Ryeong Group had seized advantage, but victory wasn’t yet assured.
Besides, he was curious.
Cheon Hui’s mouth twisted into a smile.
What would this cornered man do next?
Fight?
Or wait for another opening?
Moments later, the man straightened his spine and rose fully to his feet.
He was a hand’s width shorter than Cheon Hui.
Yet his slender frame and small head made his height seem far greater than it was.
“Was it the scabbard you hit me with?”
The man swept his hair back.
The scabbard’s mark was etched clearly across his exposed face.
Cheon Hui swung the scabbard and answered.
“That’s right. I swung this whole thing. Quite hefty, isn’t it?”
Had he grown so accustomed to wielding the scabbard during training that he’d forgotten to draw the blade first?
Cheon Hui tended to swing the scabbard outright rather than draw his sword.
“More than hefty.”
“Hurt quite a bit, then?”
“Considerably.”
The man’s words were clipped.
Yet thick currents of rage and murderous intent churned in his voice like an active volcano.
Then the man touched his cheek.
And something remarkable occurred.
The bones of his face twisted, and the scabbard’s wound on his cheek simply vanished.
Not just the wound—the scar itself was gone.
The man, who had worn a gentle countenance, had transformed into someone else entirely—a grave-looking, middle-aged figure.
“Hmm? The Shape-Shifting Technique?”
Cheon Hui’s lips curled into a slight sneer.
“Well, that was worth the wait.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? I thought maybe you’d caught the tail of whoever’s behind this. But you—you’re just a disposable piece.”
The man’s brow furrowed.
“A disposable piece? You certainly have a tongue for nonsense.”
“It’s no nonsense—it’s obvious.”
Cheon Hui slung his scabbard across his waist.
“Most who learn the Shape-Shifting Technique end up as spies or bait. What else would they be worth as? A serious asset?”
He recalled how the technique had been employed in his past life.
Some learned it out of curiosity, and others took it up to venture into Zhongyuan, but most fell into one of those two categories.
A spy planted deep in Zhongyuan.
Or a tool for sowing chaos.
“Whether it’s confidence or carelessness, you shouldn’t have shown me the Shape-Shifting Technique. I prefer to dispose of things that might become troublesome later—it puts my mind at ease.”
Cheon Hui exhaled slowly and drew his blade.
He drew upon his Internal Force.
The inner essence of the Plum Blossom Divine Art responded to his will, threading itself into the sword like gossamer.
Sword Energy bloomed naturally.
From the blade held lightly in Cheon Hui’s hand, faint yet unforgettable traces of plum blossom fragrance began to drift, and without hesitation, his body launched forward.
“……!”
The man’s eyes flew wide.
Cheon Hui’s face, which had been distant moments before, now filled his entire vision.
At the same moment, searing pain shot through his shoulder.
“Ghk!”
Spurt!
In the blink of an eye, Cheon Hui drove his blade into the man’s shoulder, scattering blood.
The man’s eyes trembled violently.
But only for an instant.
Crack!
The man seized the blade with his left hand.
The moment his fingers closed around the sword charged with Sword Energy, Cheon Hui’s expression shifted to surprise.
Then his eyes brightened.
“Interesting—you’re channeling Water Hardening too? For a piece you’re so eager to discard, your martial arts are remarkably formidable.”
“……Let’s see what a disposable piece can do to you.”
The man’s gaze turned cold and sharp.
It radiated a chill and a merciless killing intent.
Had anyone but Cheon Hui met that stare, they might have convulsed in terror and lost control of themselves.
But unfortunately for the man, the one who held his gaze was Cheon Hui.
“Go ahead. Show me what you have.”
“That was my intention anyway.”
The man’s palm opened wide.
A chilling wind swept forth.
It was cold and dry.
Like the bitter northern gales and snow that howled down from the Beihai Ice Palace.
The man poured every ounce of his Inner Power outward.
It was something his body and instinct commanded before his mind could think.
This had to be decided in one exchange.
A ferocious current of force surged forward.
The man’s palm rotated.
In that instant, the wind transformed into a violent tempest.
His excessively rotating palm generated a vortex so intense that it was nearly impossible to keep one’s eyes open.
Flash!
The man’s eyes blazed with light.
And at the same moment.
“I will take your life!”
His palm shot forward like a thunderbolt.
This was his ultimate technique—his all-or-nothing blow.
The Vortex Storm Palm tore through the air with a ferocity that had never been seen before.
A powerful gust was bearing down on Cheon Hui’s chest with terrifying speed.
It was a rare Ultimate Technique.
Not only did it carry formidable Internal Force, but the momentum behind it was absolute.
But his opponent was none other than Cheon Hui.
Whoosh—
Cheon Hui raised his hand.
The motion was so natural, yet so impossibly swift that his palm rose to meet the Vortex Storm Palm before it even reached him.
And struck the side of the oncoming technique with a sharp blow.
Crack!
The redirected Vortex Storm Palm veered sideways, grazing past Cheon Hui’s face.
“What…?”
The man exhaled a sound like the air escaping from a punctured lung.
And no wonder—that Vortex Storm Palm had been unleashed with full force. Yet a casual hand gesture, empty of effort or power, had swatted it aside like a child’s plaything.
“You’ll never get away with such a slow technique.”
Cheon Hui wrenched the sword lodged in the man’s shoulder free.
Squelch!
A fountain of blood sprayed into the air.
And immediately after, another sound cut through the space between them.
Slice!
The sickening sound of something being severed.
The man’s eyes went slack, staring upward at the sky.
Between the scattered droplets of blood, he saw his own arm soaring skyward.
For a moment his gaze followed the spinning limb.
Thud!
After several rotations, the arm fell to the ground.
Only then did focus return to the man’s vacant eyes, and the pain came crashing down.
“Aaaah!”
The man fumbled at his right arm.
But there was nothing to grasp.
Only a searing, unbearable agony remained.
“Your cocky expression is gone now.”
The shrieking man lifted his head toward the shadow falling before him.
“Are you… are you going to kill me?”
“Of course.”
Cheon Hui smiled wickedly.
In that instant, the man felt his skin crawl.
That smile consumed his mind entirely, sweeping away even the agony of his wound.
The man spoke urgently.
“I belong to Sipya Moon! If you kill me now, Huashan will make enemies of Sipya Moon. Is that truly what you want?”
“A threat? How amusing. I’m trembling with fear—can’t sleep a wink.”
Cheon Hui drawled the words with deliberate mockery.
“But that’s a lie.”
“What…?”
“How long do you plan to keep wearing that mask?”
Cheon Hui’s eyes went cold and hard.
A fierce, overwhelming presence bloomed from him, pressing down slowly on the man’s body.
“A… a mask? What do you mean?”
“It’s been quite a while since someone tried so persistently to deceive me. Rather refreshing, actually.”
Cheon Hui raised his sword.
The tip of the blade was aimed with precision directly at the man’s heart.
“Listen. It’s so quiet, isn’t it?”
Cheon Hui twisted his lips at the steady heartbeat transmitted through the sword’s point.
“But it’s truly impressive. Here you stand before death itself, yet you still pull such a stunt. Whoever trained you, they did a thorough job of it—like breaking a dog.”
………
The man’s face twisted.
It was a last desperate act, but his opponent saw right through it.
“So you’re not from Sipya Moon.”
Cheon Hui let out a low chuckle.
“Then you’re from the Five Emperor Sect, or perhaps the Green Forest?”
?!
The man’s pupils wavered.
“I was right.”
At Cheon Hui’s words, the man bit his lip and quickly spoke.
“If you let me live, I’ll tell you everything. The sect I belong to, the other sects backing the divine throne candidates… Ugh!”
Cheon Hui drove his blade forward.
The sword pierced through the man’s heart in one motion, dripping crimson blood onto the ground in steady drops.
The man’s eyes flew wide open.
“Wh-why?”
“How could I possibly trust you?”
Cheon Hui spoke in an indifferent tone.
“A man whose face, whose voice—everything about him—is a lie. Why would I trust his words?”
“Mercy… there was…”
“Mercy to an enemy?”
Cheon Hui gave a soft laugh and withdrew his blade.
With a smooth hiss of steel—
The man’s body collapsed.
Even in death, he seemed unable to accept his fate, his eyes remaining open as the warmth left his flesh.
Cheon Hui looked down at him, then drew his sword sharply through the air, flinging off the blood.
Then he slowly raised his head.
The surroundings had fallen silent.
Moments before, the battlefield had bristled with sharp killing intent.
But now all of them stood frozen, not a single finger moving.
Cheon Hui’s eyes shifted.
A sudden chill—
The attackers who met those impassive eyes flinched, shrinking back.
“What are you looking at?”
Cheon Hui’s voice was calm.
Yet combined with what had just unfolded before them, the attackers felt their blood run cold in their veins.
Cheon Hui watched them cower in helpless terror, then turned to his disciples who had also stopped fighting, and clicked his tongue.
“What are you doing? Keep moving. And another thing—if any of you get hurt or lose this time, you know what that means?”
“Gasp!”
“Th-that couldn’t possibly happen!”
Only then did his disciples snap back to their senses.
“Have no fear, Master!”
Jeok Geom cried out loudly, his eyes blazing.
All that remained were the underlings.
The most formidable master among them had fallen to Cheon Hui’s hand, his blood scattered across the ground.
For him.
And for the disciples of the Bi Geom Group and the Hwa Ryeong Group, it brought the smile of victory.
“Forward!”
Jeok Geom burst ahead.
The Bi Geom Group surged after him, their sharp momentum cutting through the air.
“We can’t lose to the Bi Geom Group!”
Cheon Hyang also shouted with fierce determination.
“Hwa Ryeong Group, let’s 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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