Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 213

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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 213
“…I hope you all enjoyed yourselves this evening.”
The Clan Master’s greeting—whether long or short, it hardly mattered—brought the banquet to a close.
Boom.
As the drum that followed echoed through the hall, the assembled guests showered the Clan Master with unstinting applause.
Clap, clap, clap—
Cheon Hui, sipping his tea, studied the Clan Master as his gaze swept across the room.
Above his neatly trimmed beard lay thin lips, while his eyes—sharp and steady as iron—seemed to hold the weight of his own stubbornness.
His features were indistinct rather than striking.
Had he been seen elsewhere, he would have been dismissed as just another scholar, forgotten as soon as he passed from view.
‘Yet that presence of his—even if you tried to forget it, you couldn’t.’
Cheon Hui’s eyes narrowed.
The position of Clan Master of the Je Gal Clan alone would have been enough.
But the subtle aura that clung to him now was leaving a clear imprint on everyone present.
A work both secret and meticulous.
His Internal Energy Cultivation was refined enough that most in this hall would fail to notice he was broadcasting his presence at all.
‘So he’s been deceiving the world all along.’
Cheon Hui observed the Je Gal Clan Master and recalled the information that Gae Bang had provided.
According to the intelligence he’d received, the Clan Master of the Je Gal Clan—also known as So Wa Yong—Je Gal Shin was not listed as particularly skilled among the Eight Great Clans’ leaders.
At best, he was said to be at the furthest edge of the Wuji Realm.
But seeing him in person told a different story.
‘He’s reached the Heavenly Martial Realm, without question.’
This was certainty, not speculation.
His Internal Energy Cultivation was that refined, and from what Cheon Hui could discern, the power he kept hidden was equally formidable.
Likely few would have noticed.
‘Save for a handful.’
In Cheon Hui’s field of vision, a few figures showed stiffened expressions.
And all of them were people whose eyes had caught his attention from the moment they entered the hall.
‘It’s been a long time since so many masters gathered in one place.’
Cheon Hui’s lips curved slightly upward.
Perhaps it was because this was such a grand banquet.
The martial prowess of the middle-aged men who had come from the Eight Great Clans—save the Shinchangyangga—and the Bi Cheon Society was far from ordinary, even at a glance.
As Cheon Hui’s eyes settled on them,
“That young man there……”
“He looks gentler than expected.”
Murmurs rippled through the banquet hall.
Curious, Cheon Hui followed the crowd’s gaze and saw three young men seated neatly beside the Je Gal Clan Master at the head table.
Two of them he knew very well.
Je Gal Seung Ho and Je Gal Seong Hyeon.
The third youth was a stranger.
‘They said the Clan Master had three sons, didn’t they?’
As Cheon Hui recalled the information he’d gathered from Gae Bang,
“That young man must be Je Gal Myeong.”
Dan Mok Lin, whose gaze had also shifted with the hall’s restlessness, murmured the name with a tense expression.
“So he’s one of the most outstanding Later Generation Masters in the current Gangho?”
At Dan Mok Lin’s words, Cheon Hui examined Je Gal Myeong more closely.
The youth, tall enough to exceed six feet, exchanged light pleasantries with those presenting gifts to the Clan Master, his face relaxed in an easy smile.
‘From the look of him, he’s at the Wuji Realm.’
His realm was easy to gauge.
Unlike the Clan Master, who carefully concealed his true strength, this youth hid nothing of his power.
Instead, he displayed it carelessly.
As if to show off his own abilities.
It was likely a mark of his confidence.
‘That’s all there is to him, then.’
Cheon Hui’s gaze moved away from him.
His interest evaporated entirely.
That he had reached a considerable realm at such a young age was true enough—but that was all.
The hall already held the Je Gal Clan Master and many masters superior to this youth; there was no reason to focus on him.
‘Better to exchange techniques with the others and observe their martial arts.’
Tap.
Cheon Hui set down his teacup, his mind already turning to the task ahead.
He rose from his seat.
“Where are you going, brother?” Dan Mok Lin asked.
“To deliver something the Sect Master gave me.”
“Oh! I’d almost forgotten about that.”
Dan Mok Lin put down her chopsticks and stood as well.
She hastily smoothed her robes and stepped to Cheon Hui’s side, speaking low.
“I’ll come with you.”
“As you wish.”
Cheon Hui walked without hesitation.
Tap—tap—
As Cheon Hui and Dan Mok Lin advanced, those hovering nearby quietly withdrew.
The sight was curious.
Like receding tide, a circle of space—some ten paces across—emptied itself around them.
“It’s convenient when people step aside on their own,” Cheon Hui observed.
He didn’t mind the current situation at all.
Eyes lingered on him and wariness showed, but this was far more pleasant than if they’d pestered him with talk or come pressing closer.
Thanks to this, Cheon Hui reached the upper table where the Clan Master sat with ease.
As he drew near the Clan Master’s seat, Je Gal Seung Ho and Je Gal Seong Hyeon—sitting in chairs close by—exchanged knowing glances.
Cheon Hui passed them without acknowledgment.
His eyes fixed on the Clan Master himself, seated at the very center of the upper table.
Another visitor was already there, presenting a gift and deep in conversation with him.
“I didn’t expect you to come in person.”
“For a sixtieth-birthday celebration, isn’t personal attendance the proper courtesy? But Clan Master, might I ask—did the Grand Patriarch not attend this gathering?”
The middle-aged man’s question drew a troubled expression from the Clan Master, who answered carefully.
“I’m afraid he’ll be unable to attend.”
“Is that so?”
Relief flickered across the middle-aged man’s face.
‘Strange. Why would he be more concerned about the Grand Patriarch who isn’t even here?’
Cheon Hui’s eyes deepened as he observed the man.
This was one of those who had been startled upon sensing the Clan Master’s martial prowess moments before.
Yet now his attention was turning to the Grand Patriarch instead.
No—it was more than mere attention.
He made no effort to hide his relief at learning of the Grand Patriarch’s absence.
‘……Is he afraid?’
Interest kindled in Cheon Hui’s gaze.
“You’ve made me wait quite a while,” the Clan Master said.
Having finished his conversation with the previous visitors, the Clan Master smiled as he regarded Cheon Hui.
“Welcome to our Je Gal Clan. I’ve heard about you from Seong Hyeon.”
Speaking with easy assurance, he swept his eyes up and down, appraising Cheon Hui before continuing.
“The Plum Blossom Divine Art—your reputation has been spreading through Kangho of late.”
“People do call it that, yes,” Cheon Hui replied with a light tone.
The martial artists of the Je Gal Clan nearby stirred at his casual manner—
—but the Clan Master raised a hand, silencing them.
He raised his hand to quiet them.
Then, studying Cheon Hui, he spoke.
“You’re quite amusing, aren’t you?”
The Clan Master’s expression showed his approval as he opened his mouth to speak.
“I haven’t heard that from many people.”
“Ha ha ha—is that so?”
The Clan Master laughed heartily.
His laughter was robust, quite at odds with his appearance; now he turned his attention to Dan Mok Lin.
“And what of the young lady beside you—what is her Sect Token?”
“It’s Lin,” she answered.
“Lin, is it…… It seems you haven’t yet received a formal Sect Token.”
The Clan Master regarded Dan Mok Lin with eyes that had turned cold and penetrating, studying her intently.
Dan Mok Lin flinched under that gaze.
It was a sharp, piercing look—as if he could see straight through to her innermost thoughts.
‘It’s like… like when Father looks at me.’
She felt herself shrinking under the weight of that scrutiny, and forced herself to stand firm.
But even that was fleeting. The Je Gal Clan Master’s gaze shifted away from her.
“I’ve been hearing the name of the Huashan Sect with increasing frequency these past few years — seems there’s good reason for it.”
At that moment, Cheon Hui withdrew a small wooden box from within his robes and handed it to the Clan Master.
“The Sect Master sent this along with his congratulations.”
“Remarkable enough that the Murim Alliance and Sa Hyuk Ryeon sent their gifts through intermediaries days ago, but the Huashan Sect comes in person to present theirs?”
The Je Gal Clan Master, whose expression had grown complicated as he regarded Cheon Hui, reached out and accepted the wooden box.
“Truly, an auspicious day.”
As he spoke, he opened the box, and surprise flickered across his eyes.
“…Is it certain the Sect Master sent this?”
“He said it was being returned.”
The Je Gal Clan Master studied the Martial Arts Secret Manual inside for a moment, then closed the box with care.
“Give my thanks to the Sect Master.”
“Of course.”
As Cheon Hui rose to take his leave, the Clan Master spoke again.
“How was the food? To your taste?”
“It was good. Though I couldn’t sample the finest dishes, so I can’t speak to those.”
“Once the banquet concludes tonight, have something prepared separately at the Separate Residence.”
“You’re well-informed.”
“What are ears and eyes for, if not to see and hear?”
As the Je Gal Clan Master’s eyes flicked toward Je Gal Seung Ho and Je Gal Seong Hyeon, Cheon Hui let out a soft laugh.
“Then I’ll impose upon your kindness.”
With that, Cheon Hui departed, and Dan Mok Lin, after bowing to the Clan Master, followed in his wake.
Soon after their forms had blended back into the crowd of the banquet hall, the Je Gal Clan Master’s expression turned cold.
“Myeong.”
At his summons, Je Gal Myeong rose to his feet.
“You called, Father?”
“Remember that man well.”
Je Gal Myeong’s eyes widened slightly.
His father rarely, if ever, asked him to remember anyone.
For him to speak such words now meant this was someone of considerable importance.
‘…Who on earth is he?’
Unaware of Je Gal Myeong’s curious gaze fixed upon him, Cheon Hui asked Dan Mok Lin as they walked.
“Do you know anything about the Je Gal Clan’s Grand Patriarch?”
“Senior Brother, surely you jest — you don’t know?”
Dan Mok Lin asked in bewilderment.
“I don’t know, which is why I asked.”
Cheon Hui replied matter-of-factly.
Dan Mok Lin could not hide her confusion, but she began her explanation nonetheless.
“He’s the man who changed the Je Gal Clan’s reputation — once known merely for their clever minds. Before the Nine Provinces Three Hegemon Era, he was called the Tyrant Lord and contended for supremacy under Heaven…”
As her explanation poured forth without pause, Cheon Hui’s interest suddenly kindled.
He contended for supremacy under Heaven?
His ear attuned to her words, listening intently to what she had to say of him.
“At that time, he was called one of the Eight Martial Gods…”
Cheon Hui’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
What? One of the Eight Martial Gods?
It was the third time hearing this title — after Baek Sa Sin and Shin Ui — and he opened his mouth to speak.
“You mean to say the Je Gal Clan’s Grand Patriarch was one of the Eight Martial Gods?”
Dan Mok Lin faltered at his sudden stop, but soon answered carefully.
“Yes, so I’ve heard.”
In that moment, Cheon Hui’s eyes deepened.
“You seem well-versed in the Eight Martial Gods.”
“Whenever I fell ill as a child, Grandfather would often visit and speak to me of the past Kangho. And the Eight Martial Gods always featured in those tales…”
As she spoke, lost in memory, her words carried a wistful quality.
“Is that so?”
Cheon Hui nodded and turned his steps.
“Then, our business here being concluded, let us speak in more detail at the Separate Residence.”
* * *
In the dead of night, when all had fallen asleep.
Cheon Hui stood atop the roof of the Separate Residence, glancing about the surroundings with a faint smile on his lips.
“Quiet, isn’t it.”
The Je Gal Clan, which had been bustling with activity during the banquet, now lay shrouded in deep silence.
White teeth showed at the corners of his mouth.
“He said he’d stay in the Inner Dwelling, right?”
According to Dan Mok Lin, Pae Gun, the Grand Patriarch of the Je Gal Clan, had been secluded ever since the dawn of the Guzhou Three Powerhouses era.
“Let’s see. He certainly wouldn’t just be holed up in the Pavilion…….”
So he surveyed the surroundings for a moment.
“There, perhaps.”
Cheon Hui’s eyes gleamed as he caught sight of something, and he pressed lightly off the ground.
The An Hyang Pyo concealed his movement with exquisite subtlety, melting into the darkness.
Whisper—
A cool breeze brushed across his face.
“It should be around here.”
Cheon Hui bounded lightly across the roof, continuing northward, when he came to an abrupt halt at a particular point.
“Found it at last.”
An odd presence emanated from the empty space before him.
A mysterious aura that flowed contrary to all natural currents.
It was an Array Formation.
“Well then.”
Cheon Hui reached his hand toward the Array Formation.
The moment he did, his body was pulled in as though plunging into water, and the landscape shifted.
“Let me see the face of that Eight Martial Gods fellow who runs his mouth so much.”

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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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