Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 218

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 218
Cheon Hui’s scabbard struck the crown of Dan Mok Chan’s head with perfect precision, before the Cheonsu Sword Technique could even mount a proper defense.
The impact left Dan Mok Chan’s eyes rolled back, as if he’d lost consciousness on the spot.
With only the whites of his eyes showing, Dan Mok Chan went limp—his sword slipped from his grasp, and his body tilted backward.
As his form toppled toward the ground—
A soft thud.
Jong Gak appeared out of nowhere, his hand catching Dan Mok Chan’s back before the fall could complete.
“A single strike, then.”
Jong Gak steadied Dan Mok Chan, then hoisted him effortlessly and settled him across his shoulder.
“The gap between them is greater than I expected. It may take some time to bridge it.”
He murmured to himself, then turned his gaze toward Cheon Hui.
“Give me a moment—I’ll lay Chan down elsewhere and return.”
“Of course. Ah, and one more thing…”
Cheon Hui gave a half-hearted nod, then paused—something had occurred to him. He raised his scabbard and swung it lightly downward.
Ting!
His gesture aimed at Dan Mok Chan’s fallen sword.
As the scabbard struck the blade’s flat, the sword leaped into the air.
And in that instant—
Whoosh—
The scabbard moved with fluid grace, catching the airborne sword at its tip.
Jong Gak’s eyes widened at the remarkable feat that unfolded in the blink of an eye.
‘Exquisite swordwork.’
He watched in admiration when—
“Take this with you as well.”
Cheon Hui flicked the blade lightly.
With Internal Energy imbued, the sword traced a wide arc and landed precisely in Jong Gak’s hands.
“Much obliged.”
Jong Gak caught the sword smoothly and gave a light nod, then lifted his feet slightly off the ground.
A soft step.
In an instant, a gentle gust stirred.
Dust swirled in faint clouds before Jong Gak vanished, only to reappear suddenly where Cheon Yi Gae and Dan Mok Lin stood.
“Heavens! You nearly stopped my heart!”
Cheon Yi Gae’s exaggerated complaint drew a smile from Jong Gak, while Dan Mok Lin rushed toward him.
“Are you hurt?”
Her eyes were clouded with worry.
Seeing that, Jong Gak’s gaze grew tender.
Though he had severed ties with the Dan Mok Clan, she still bore him concern—a moment that brought home just how deep the bonds of blood ran.
“I’m fine.”
“Then I’m relieved.”
As Dan Mok Lin exhaled in relief—
“Could you watch over him for a moment?”
Jong Gak lowered Dan Mok Chan gently from his shoulder, entrusting him to her care.
“Don’t worry.”
Dan Mok Lin laid her brother down carefully, then began inspecting his condition.
Though he appeared unharmed at first glance, when she touched the crown of his head where the scabbard had struck true, she couldn’t help but wince.
‘I thought he wouldn’t hold back, being his brother…’
A substantial lump had already formed on his scalp.
At that size, he would likely suffer considerable pain for days to come.
“Then I leave it in your hands.”
Meanwhile, once Jong Gak confirmed that Dan Mok Lin was tending to him, he set his brother’s sword beside him and turned away.
He stepped forward with his left foot.
Step—step—
Rhythmic footfalls echoed across the ground.
With his spine held rigidly straight, each step carried him forward, his gaze fixed solely on Cheon Hui.
He was quite young.
Barely past the threshold of manhood.
His expression bore the arrogance of youth, yet his features remained too soft—the unbridled confidence of a child who had not yet learned caution.
But Jong Gak’s entire body radiated tension.
Had he not just witnessed that single strike?
That extraordinary speed, the shadowed arc of the blade he’d nearly missed—
‘A master I can’t guarantee victory against.’
Age meant nothing whatsoever.
His martial prowess, his skill, had already climbed to a formidable realm.
At some point, his footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
The distance between him and Cheon Hui was roughly four paces.
A considerable span, but for two such masters, near enough to close in an instant.
Silence descended.
A thick, heavy silence settled low.
Cheon Hui watched as Jong Gak’s benign expression vanished, his features hardening into something rigid and austere.
“Shall we begin now?”
“Very well.”
The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Jong Gak’s white hair trembled faintly.
Between his snow-white brows, his eyes emerged, burning with a cold, eerie gleam that wavered like heat shimmer.
His expression was serene.
Yet the True Energy emanating from his body, the inner power radiating from him, spoke volumes about his intent.
‘So he really is a killing sage, after all.’
Intent to kill flowing subtly, continuously.
Though he did not deliberately unleash it, its ferocity was such that the grass and leaves sprouting nearby began to wither and fade with startling speed.
‘I wonder what martial arts he means to display.’
Cheon Hui’s lips curved into a thin smile.
He was anticipating it.
Martial arts from an Orthodox Sect’s killing sage, bearing such a thrumming, electric intent to kill.
“By the conventions of the Murim world, I ought to yield the first move, but I suspect you have no need of such courtesy.”
From between Jong Gak’s slightly parted lips came a voice devoid of inflection.
“True enough.”
At Cheon Hui’s response, he drew his blade.
The sword pulled from the worn scabbard at his waist sang with killing intent.
Merely placing a hand near it would leave you bleeding.
A terrifying, razor-sharp killing intent.
“The sword technique I am about to display is the Naksong Sword of the Dan Mok Clan.”
The Naksong Sword—he’d heard the name once before from Dan Mok Lin, he thought.
As Cheon Hui searched his memory for what he’d half-heard of the Naksong Sword, Jong Gak posed his question.
“What sword technique will you employ?”
“The Maehwa Swordsmanship.”
“…I see.”
Jong Gak gave a single nod of acknowledgment.
“Then I shall begin.”
With those words, he extended his left foot forward.
In that very instant.
His figure vanished.
His form flickered out of existence.
‘Was he really an assassin, then?’
Cheon Hui sensed Jong Gak’s presence even as he concealed himself, and twisted his head.
In that same moment, their eyes met—Jong Gak now less than a pace away.
Though caught in his own concealment technique, Jong Gak’s eyes betrayed not the slightest flicker of surprise.
Rather, as if he had anticipated precisely this outcome, he flowed seamlessly into his next movement.
‘Such cunning footwork, such sneak attacks—hardly befitting an Orthodox Sect that preaches integrity in all things.’
Jong Gak’s pristine white sleeve rippled as his sharp blade came into view.
Sword Qi bristled from the blade like fangs, coiling around the steel in jagged spirals.
A violent turbulence swept through the air.
With each approach of his sword, space itself cried out and split asunder.
Wind in his wake lashed at Jong Gak’s form.
As Jong Gak’s snow-white hair and brows lifted into the air, catching sight of his eyes between them, Cheon Hui moved his scabbard.
‘But I prefer this.’
Cheon Hui’s white teeth flashed in a grin.
In a sparring match, feigning lesser skill was tiresome; far better to commit fully, to unfold martial arts as though life and death hung in the balance.
‘Let’s see what you’ve got, then.’
Cheon Hui raised his scabbard to chest level.
In that moment, the scabbard moved with fluid grace, unfurling into a sword path as flowing and sinuous as waves.
Soft, and placid.
Then the moment the two blades collided.
Clang!
A violent shockwave rippled outward in all directions.
A fierce gust erupted in its wake, shredding the space within a twenty-foot radius.
Dense dust rose from every quarter.
‘Considerable inner power. Strong enough that I couldn’t completely dissipate it.’
Cheon Hui stood in the center, watching his trembling scabbard, then channeled his Internal Energy.
Boom!
A faint wave of Sword Qi burst outward.
The impact generated from Jong Gak’s strike—which he had absorbed through the Ihwa Jepmok technique—finally dissipated.
“To shed the inner power of the Naksong Dark Shadow so cleanly… a remarkable technique indeed.”
An admiring voice reached him then.
A shadow emerged from within the dust, and with a light step, stamped the ground.
Boom!
The dust cleared completely with that single stomp.
Watching the wind that howled along with the dust, Cheon Hui swept his blade diagonally.
Slice!
Having severed the tempest that swept along with the dust in an instant, Cheon Hui looked ahead.
With his vision now clear, he could see the large footprint left on the ground—and watching that sight, Jong Gak’s eye-wrinkles settled.
Cheon Hui, observing him, opened his mouth.
“It’s nothing difficult. I simply withdrew the Sword Qi with my wrist and dispersed it, that’s all.”
“As if it were that simple.”
He let out a dry laugh as he spoke.
Even he, who prided himself on mastery of the sword, found it far beyond his reach to execute such swordsmanship with ease.
Yet this youth before him…
‘I already suspected he was a greater master than I, but the gap is wider than I imagined.’
Jong Gak stopped his thoughts and wiped the smile from his face.
At the same moment, his Martial Robe fluttered violently.
It was not wind blowing.
It was a natural phenomenon arising from the manifestation of the inner power of his learned Heart Technique, the Amseong Jigjeol.
“Try blocking this one as well.”
The moment Cheon Hui felt Jong Gak’s altered momentum and adjusted his grip on the scabbard.
Boom!
His inner power exploding, Jong Gak closed the distance in a single breath and swung his blade forward.
Clang!
Rough sparks erupted.
And an even more vivid cyan flame blazed fiercely in Jong Gak’s eyes.
Was it the Intent to Kill, or was it fighting spirit?
Or perhaps it was both.
Such an intense aura pierced through his snow-white brows and fixed itself upon Cheon Hui.
The kind of gaze that would make anyone tremble.
But.
‘My, what a murderous glare.’
Cheon Hui was actually relishing that gaze.
“Since I keep defending alone, wouldn’t it be fair if you tried blocking this time, Master?”
Cheon Hui, who had been locked in a contest of strength against Jong Gak’s blade, suddenly withdrew the force from his scabbard. Then, in the next instant, he twisted his wrist sharply.
Screeeech—
A sharp arc cut through the air.
A trajectory swung at a speed almost impossible to follow with the eye, leaving a belated sword trace in its wake.
“Ugh!”
Jong Gak let out a short gasp.
Barely deflecting his blade, he noticed the scabbard lodged against his sword’s edge and furrowed his brow.
At the same time, a cyan flame burned even more brightly in the depths of his eyes.
It was the Intent to Kill he had unconsciously summoned rising to the surface unbidden.
Seeing him, Cheon Hui’s lips curved upward.
‘That’s it.’
Jong Gak’s blade swung again, unleashing a tremendous burst of Sword Qi, and against it, Cheon Hui’s scabbard moved with graceful fluidity.
Jong Gak’s Sword Technique was sharp and swift.
And it was devastating.
A blue trajectory fell sharply and intensely from above, descending in a short, violent arc.
Boom!
The deflected blade strike tore a massive fissure across the ground and unleashed an explosion.
The deafening roar was loud enough to deafen the ears.
Yet Cheon Hui, standing at the epicenter, pressed down lightly on the scattered stone fragments that had been thrown up, utterly unbothered.
Tap. Tap.
Cheon Hui’s form drifted through the empty space.
Displaying a subtle and mysterious movement technique so ethereal that others might mistake it for truly floating, Cheon Hui raised his sword scabbard and aimed at the back of Jong Gak’s head where the blade was still buried in the ground.
In that instant.
Clang!
Jong Gak spun his body and drew his blade to block the scabbard strike.
Yet without fully dissipating the impact, Jong Gak’s feet sank three inches deep into the earth.
Ring!
Jong Gak immediately thrust his scabbard away.
Then, drawing forth his inner power, he unleashed the forms of the Naksong Sword without pause.
Naksong Bugjeon, Naksong Chohoe, Naksong Ilnyeom……
As the forms of the Naksong Sword continued to flow, Cheon Hui’s eyes grew brighter still.
‘Ah, so that’s how it goes? Hmm? This one’s a bit lacking.’
The forms of the Naksong Sword, displayed without reserve by a master who had reached the Heavenly Martial Realm, were endlessly fascinating.
‘I’d like to see him fight at full strength.’
Cheon Hui sidestepped Jong Gak’s swinging blade and drew his sword from the scabbard.
As the Baekryeon Sword revealed its pure white blade, Jong Gak’s eyes grew cold and sharp.
“So you’re finally drawing it?”
“The sword technique I’m about to unfold would be cumbersome to use with the scabbard. It won’t be as easy to block as before.”
Cheon Hui grinned and tossed the empty scabbard aside.
Then, as he poured his inner power into the blade in his hand, a transparent sword aura shimmered.
Crimson threads bloomed along the sword tip, and before long, a bud unfurled.
A plum blossom.
“……A sword flower!”
Jong Gak’s eyebrows shot up sharply.
Though he had witnessed countless plum blossom sword techniques throughout his life, this was the first time he had seen a sword flower so vivid and intense.
‘And the fragrance is so rich as well.’
The bridge of his nose wrinkled.
Just as the plum blossom scent threatened to overwhelm his senses and shake his mind, in that fleeting moment.
Shwoosh―
The plum blossoms bloomed in full.
In an instant, the blossoms filled the empty space entirely, surrounding Jong Gak without a gap.
“Truly, a beautiful plum blossom.”
Yet despite his words, his gaze upon the flowers was utterly cold and unmoved.
“Had they not been aimed at me, I would have savored them in peace…… but alas, that cannot be.”
Speaking in measured tones, sinews stood out across his hand, and his blade sang low.
Whooooom―
His form, which had raised the blade’s resonance, tilted forward slightly before launching away with sudden speed.
And his blade, filled with blue flame, descended swiftly from above to cut through the plum blossoms blooming in the empty space.
Like a falling meteor, it left a long blue trail in its wake.
‘That name—Naksong—fits perfectly.’
Cheon Hui slowly raised his blade.
In that moment, the plum blossoms blooming around him scattered gently in the path of his will, following his intention.
And through the gaps.
Sweep―
Cheon Hui’s single stroke underwent a transformation.
His sword tip, which had been calmly directed into empty space, moved toward the descending meteor.
The instant the meteor and plum blossom collided.
Kaboom!
A sound as if heaven and earth were being torn asunder erupted forth.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————