Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 198

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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 198
Though the Martial Match had ended in an anticlimactic conclusion, the crowds lingering on Cheongya Field still could not shake free from its lingering reverberations.
“That was truly an extraordinary display.”
“Now I understand why the Maehwa Sword Technique of Huashan is spoken of as unparalleled in the Gangho.”
Their eyes remained unfocused, distant.
The waves of plum blossoms that had filled the entire sky.
And the swordsmanship of the young man Do Jang, who had conjured those waves, had lodged itself in their minds with no intention of departing.
At the same time, a name had been branded into their consciousness.
Cheon Hui.
Until moments before, they had never heard this name, but everything had changed now.
More than that—it could not help but change.
“So Huashan had been holding its breath all this time.”
“Remarkable, truly remarkable. For how many years did other sects and martial artists dismiss them, while they quietly nurtured a Sleeping Dragon?”
“To endure such humiliation in silence…”
“Ha! They are Daoists, are they not? Such indignities would mean nothing to them.”
The crowds loved rumor and speculation.
Especially a rising star, newly emerged in a Gangho that had been completely frozen in place by the Guzhou Three Powerhouses?
And appearing now from Huashan, which had been treading the path of decline and had only just begun to recover its standing?
Such a tantalizing tale—there was no way the gossips would let it slip through their fingers.
“I always believed Huashan would soar again! Not only does their Divine Sword Do Jang shine brilliantly, but the current Murim Alliance’s Maehwa Seven Swords dazzle the eye, do they not?”
“The landscape of the Nine Major Sects will shift!”
They began to spread their rumors.
What had begun as simple gossip heard from neighbors soon accumulated layer upon layer of embellishment, swelling into something far more substantial.
And Cheon Hui, who formed the center of these rumors, was…
“Here you are, Young Sect Master!”
…receiving two Gold Yuan Treasures in payment.
Cheon Hui tucked the Gold Yuan Treasures given by the merchant into his sleeve and smacked his lips with a faint “tsk.”
‘If only there had been more time before the match ended, I could have scraped together even more.’
Of course, even one Gold Yuan Treasure was a sum most ordinary merchants would never hold in their hands in a lifetime, yet now that he had obtained the money so simply, it felt insufficient.
‘Perhaps I should have squeezed the Director harder.’
Just as Cheon Hui was lamenting his regret,
“What’s with all this greed?”
a voice sounded from beside him.
“For a Daoist, you ought to know when you’ve had enough.”
Cheon Yi Gae, who had materialized at his side, rebuked Cheon Hui before turning to the merchant.
“Hand over mine as well.”
“Right here, sir.”
The merchant carefully passed over a bulging pouch.
“Hah. Weighty and pleasing, very pleasing indeed.”
Cheon Yi Gae, accepting the hefty pouch, broke into an involuntary smile—only to catch Cheon Hui’s eye and immediately let out a series of loud, forced coughs.
“Ahem, hem. In any case, we should leave this place.”
As he spoke, Cheon Yi Gae’s gaze swept across their surroundings. Not only those who had wagered on Cheon Hui’s performance, but people from all quarters were beginning to gather.
“W-was that not the Young Sect Master of Huashan from the recent match?”
“But why is he here?”
“Young Master!”
As the crowd around them grew increasingly dense, Cheon Hui nodded and spoke.
“We should go.”
Tap.
Both men struck the ground simultaneously.
“Huh?”
“H-he vanished?”
Cheon Yi Gae and Cheon Hui, employing their Speed Technique, quickly widened the distance between themselves and Cheongya Field.
A short time later, the two arrived at a secluded forest beyond Cheongya Field and came to a halt.
“This should be far enough.”
Cheon Yi Gae swept the surroundings with a sharp gaze, then scratched at his oily hair vigorously.
“Thanks to your performance in the match, we now have certain confirmation of who stands behind the Seophun Sect.”
Cheon Hui’s eyes grew grave.
The reason he had hurriedly summoned Cheon Yi Gae was precisely for this purpose.
No matter how carefully one concealed one’s identity, there was no way to hide one’s strength in a Martial Match.
Of course, he had displayed his martial arts differently than usual, attempting to mask his inner power,
But even that required a certain degree of composure. When facing a strong opponent, ingrained habits surfaced unbidden, beyond one’s control.
‘And if Gae Bang’s intelligence network is as good as I think, they would have gleaned it from just a glimpse of those habits.’
And true to that suspicion, Cheon Yi Gae seemed to have discerned the very source and origin of the martial arts they had cultivated through their Martial Match.
“Where from?”
“Salmak.”
“Salmak—you mean the sect of those assassins?”
Cheon Yi Gae spoke with a hardened expression.
“Yes. That Jan Chil concealed his inner power well enough, but the martial arts and movements he displayed in fragments—I’ve seen them before. They were identical to Salmak’s methods.”
As he recalled that time, his gaze fixed on empty air, his expression darkened considerably.
“Salmak…… That’s insane.”
Cheon Hui found it absurd.
Assassins were those who dreaded their existence being known, who concealed themselves.
Yet here they were, surfacing openly.
“Are they after something in particular?”
“I don’t know that either. But those bastards wouldn’t move without reason.”
Cheon Yi Gae’s brow furrowed sharply.
“Salmak’s intelligence network rivals even the Gae Bang or the Seophun Sect.”
Assassins needed information more than anyone else.
The better they knew their target, the cleaner the assassination—no mess, no trace.
“Well, then there’s nothing more to gain from this.”
Cheon Hui let it pass smoothly.
Pressing for answers to unknowns would only waste time.
“What about the backing behind the others?”
“I haven’t confirmed it yet for lack of seeing their martial arts, but the one brought by Geumhui Fujuzu is likely from the Blood Ghost Palace.”
“They’re ambitious. They’re waging war against the Hainan Sect right now, yet they’re still stretching their hands toward Shenxi.”
The Blood Ghost Palace ruled the vast territories of Guangxi and Guangdong, and recently had extended its reach even to Hainan Island in pursuit of domination.
And now they aimed at Shenxi as well.
Such greed was without limits.
“…… They’re the sort who’d attempt madness like this and still have strength left over.”
Cheon Yi Gae clicked his tongue.
The Blood Ghost Palace was a den of madmen.
The disciples who belonged to it had abandoned their birth names and the reputations they’d earned in Gangho, choosing instead to become one of the Blood Ghosts.
There was nothing they wouldn’t attempt.
“As for those two, then.”
Cheon Yi Gae shook his head.
“I tried to identify the woman who stood in place of the Sect Leader, but I couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what martial arts she used. The Ice Technique she deployed during the Martial Match suggests she came from the North Sea Ice Palace, but……”
Recalling the indescribable Ice Technique that Cho Ryeon had wielded, Cheon Yi Gae scratched his head vigorously as if troubled.
“It’s unlikely they entered Zhongyuan so openly.”
It was complicated.
For the North Sea Ice Palace, located beyond the borders, to enter Zhongyuan required an arduous journey.
Not only did it demand considerable time, but they would have to penetrate the Bi Cheon Society’s defenses.
Yet naming another sect would be difficult—few other factions could demonstrate Ice Technique of this caliber.
Upon hearing this, Cheon Hui’s eyes narrowed.
No wonder she’d wielded her martial arts so freely.
The Okryeong Shinma Energy Technique and the Sosu Demon Energy Technique were Ice Techniques devoid of Demonic Energy, yet their power was counted among the strongest even within the Shin Gyo.
The kind one would not forget after seeing once.
‘If Gae Bang—who trembles at the mere mention of Shin Gyo—doesn’t know of it, then it hasn’t been deployed in Zhongyuan even once in the past three hundred years.’
Cheon Hui stroked his chin.
For her successor to resurface after such a long absence from Zhongyuan was no trivial matter.
‘Are they aiming for conquest of Zhongyuan itself?’
Lost in thought for a moment, Cheon Hui let out a soft laugh and dismissed the notion from his mind.
‘I can always ask her later.’
After a brief pause, Cheon Hui turned to Cheon Yi Gae.
“Any other intelligence?”
“That’s all of it.”
“Not much, then.”
Cheon Yi Gae’s brows creased.
“What more could you expect? Most of what they babble is either useless or exaggerated.”
“Fair point.”
Cheon Hui chuckled softly and rose to his feet.
Then, catching himself with a soft gasp, he turned toward Cheon Yi Gae and stretched out his hand.
“Now you’ll give it to me, won’t you?”
“……What are you talking about?”
Cheon Hui, recalling it only now, saw Cheon Yi Gae’s furrowed brow and let out a quiet laugh.
“Don’t play dumb. Hand it over.”
“Blast it! You remember that?”
Cheon Yi Gae pushed out his lower lip.
Then he fished a pouch from his robes and, muttering complaints, placed a silver coin in his palm.
“There. Take it and get out of here.”
Just as Cheon Yi Gae was about to return the pouch to his robes.
“Wasn’t it two coins?”
“What kind of——”
Cheon Hui simply gazed at him in silence.
The subtle pressure continued unbroken.
Cheon Yi Gae’s face finally twisted in resignation, and he extracted another silver coin.
“Fine! Take it, take it! You shameless little flea — you’d strip a beggar’s last copper and call it a day!”
“I do, actually. Very satisfied.”
“You——you——”
Cheon Yi Gae’s fists trembled with fury.
“I’ll be on my way now.”
As Cheon Yi Gae quivered with rage, he watched Cheon Hui turn to leave, then his lips moved soundlessly.
“……Where exactly are you off to now?”
“I’ve learned what I needed to learn. Now it’s time to pull up the roots, don’t you think?”
* * *
The steps of Shin Joo Sa Pae, defeated in the Martial Match, were heavy beyond measure.
Especially the expressions of Geumhui Fujuzu and Seophun Moonju, who walked at the front, were dark.
“……Damn it all.”
Seophun Moonju spat out a curse.
It had been a gamble that would define their lives.
But it had crumbled spectacularly, vanishing like a handful of dust.
All the reputation and wealth they had accumulated over the years.
Then Geumhui Fujuzu approached.
“What will Seophun Moonju do now?”
His voice was quietly murmured as if he had found peace, and Seophun Moonju clenched his teeth.
“What choice is there? We have no choice but to accept the Seal Closure as they demanded.”
After the Martial Match ended, the Sect Masters of Jongnam and Huashan had come to them and delivered the word: Seal Closure.
And there was no choice but to accept it.
“At least they didn’t drive us entirely out of Shenxi.”
As Geumhui Fujuzu murmured this.
“This has become quite troublesome.”
A man whom Geumhui Fujuzu had brought suddenly thrust his face between them and smiled.
“All the funds and troops we provided have gone up in smoke in an instant.”
Geumhui Fujuzu bit his lip.
“There was nothing to be done. The other side had a master stronger than us. What could we do?”
“Are you saying that a different master should have been sent instead of you?”
The man leaned his face closer.
With his face near enough for Geumhui Fujuzu to feel his breath, the man’s smile deepened.
“Curious, isn’t it? It seems to me that you brought this upon yourself through greed. What do you think?”
“That is……”
In that instant, a blinding flash split the air.
Seophun Moonju, startled by the sudden light, looked over just as——
Splash—
A crimson line appeared across Geumhui Fujuzu’s neck.
And then.
Whoosh—
Blood sprayed in all directions as Geumhui Fujuzu’s head fell cleanly away.
“N-no!”
“My lord!”
The warriors of Geumhui Faction trembled violently in shock.
Some tried to flee.
“If you take even one step from here, you’ll die. You understand that, don’t you?”
The man’s cold warning stopped him.
At the sound of his voice, not only Geumhui Fujuzu but even the unrelated Seophun Sect disciples froze like statues, forgetting to breathe.
“Hah—gasp!”
Seophun Moonju choked on a strangled breath.
Something brushed against his foot. When he looked down, the severed head of Geumhui Fujuzu rolled past, its eyes staring at him.
With a gaze that seemed utterly unaware it was dead.
Gulp—
His throat convulsed hard.
In the same instant, he jerked his head up to stare at the man who had created this nightmare.
“You need only do as you’re told.”
The man, his face splattered with blood, wore a fixed, viscous smile.
“Stirring up trouble and ruining the work—how careless.”
The man wiped his face with his hand.
Blood droplets trailed down his fingers, leaving streaks across his features.
It was a sight that crawled under the skin.
Seophun Moonju stood paralyzed, unable even to breathe, cold sweat running down his spine.
Step.
Jan Chil moved before him.
The man looked at Jan Chil and grinned.
“You think the same way, don’t you?”
“…….”
“Silent, are we? No matter. I’ve heard assassins are naturally taciturn, so perhaps it’s to be expected.”
“An—assassin! Gasp—!?”
Seophun Moonju let the word slip before he could stop himself, then frantically clamped his hand over his mouth.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Haha, what are you saying?”
The man burst into laughter.
“You think only you know of us? How confident you are.”
Jan Chil’s eyes went cold and still.
The man, watching him, smiled with apparent satisfaction.
“Hah.”
Suddenly he broke into open laughter.
Having released the tension that had built like a balloon through his laughter, he extended his right hand toward Jan Chil.
“Since we both know each other’s true faces, why not join hands?”
Beneath the tall hat, Jan Chil’s eyes—studying the offered hand—flashed bright.
“What do you mean?”
“Better not to waste strength needlessly. If we combine our focus on one goal, wouldn’t that serve us well? We don’t need fools like these appearing and complicating matters.”
“……That’s a fair point.”
Jan Chil spoke in a cold voice, nodding in agreement.
He too was displeased by Seophun Moonju’s reckless conduct.
Displeased enough to kill him this very moment.
“Besides, the Martial Match is already lost. Pouring more effort here would be waste.”
“No. There is still more.”
The man twisted his lips into a smile.
“What Huashan and Jongnam sought through their Martial Match victory is the sealing of Shin Joo Sa Pae.”
The man’s voice was measured.
Yet the faint killing intent woven through it made all who watched deeply uneasy. Several held their breath, certain their hearts would burst at any moment.
“In other words, if we seal Shin Joo Sa Pae, nothing else matters to them.”
“So we’re to spend more time and coin?”
“Haha, is there need for that?”
The man spread both arms wide.
“We have more than enough forces and wealth right here to be reborn anew.”
Jan Chil’s eyes widened slightly.
“……So that’s what you meant.”
He turned his body, having finished his quiet deliberation.
“L—lord?”
Seophun Moonju froze as Jan Chil’s gaze suddenly fell upon him.
A faint killing intent flickered within those vacant eyes.
It was so cold and biting that it pricked his chest like needles.
“I’ve been wanting to see your blood.”
“You……?”
Thunk!
A sharp, cold sound rang out.
At the same moment, a blade pierced through the Sect Leader’s chest and erupted from his back.
“Ugh, cough! This, this…….”
The Sect Leader reached out both hands toward Jan Chil, who had driven the sword into his chest.
Thud.
But his arms fell limp to his sides.
“You were useless.”
Jan Chil withdrew the blade.
The Sect Leader’s body crumpled downward, and the blood-stained sword slid free.
Clap! Clap!
The man stepped forward, applauding.
“I understand what you mean by a handshake.”
“It doesn’t sit well with me.”
Jan Chil muttered as he wiped the blood from his blade.
“But this is the only way.”
“Hahaha, quite so.”
The man laughed heartily.
The warriors of the Geumhui Faction and Seophun Sect watching from behind felt a chill pierce through their bodies—it was hard to believe this was the same man whose face had been so cold just moments ago, now drenched in blood yet laughing so openly.
“And fortune favors us. Truthfully, I wanted to shake hands only with you, and how convenient that she simply vanished.”
The man thought of Cho Ryeon.
Though he gathered information from all corners of the world, the woman’s identity remained a mystery to him.
As if she had fallen from the sky itself.
“Had she been here as well, I would not have accepted your proposal.”
Jan Chil spoke in agreement.
For an assassin, information was life itself.
Precisely because of that, he had no desire to join hands with Cho Ryeon, a woman about whom nothing was known.
“Then I ask for your partnership.”
The man extended his hand.
Jan Chil glanced back and forth between that hand and the man’s face, then turned his head abruptly away.
“This is merely temporary cooperation. I have no intention of becoming close.”
“Hahaha.”
The man laughed awkwardly and withdrew his offered hand as he spoke.
“Still, wouldn’t it be better to develop a rapport? Your organization and ours will surely work together for quite some time.”
“No. I doubt that will be possible.”
At the sudden interjection of a new voice, both the man and Jan Chil looked up in alarm.
Cheon Hui stood on a tree branch above them.
“You, who are you?”
“When did you get there……!”
Cheon Hui, looking down at the two of them in shock, bared his white teeth in a smile.
“You’ll all be dead here anyway. How could you possibly work together for long? Don’t you think?”

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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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