Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 271

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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 271
“What became of Jeok Ho Chae Ju?”
“He’s dead.”
“And the remaining conspirators…?”
A plain report, nothing more and nothing less — a mundane exchange of questions and answers that droned on.
After roughly two hours had passed like that.
Tap.
Seol Geom set down the brush in his hand.
As he gazed at the paper before him, the ink still wet and glistening, his lips curved upward slightly.
It was a faint smile tinged with satisfaction.
“You’ve worked hard,” he said softly.
He pushed the paper dense with writing to one side.
Then his gaze fixed on Cheon Hui.
Cheon Hui, seated across from him, wore an expression of considerable irritation.
And for good reason.
Meaningless, formal questions and answers.
Had they not simply repeated the same thing over and over?
Seol Geom, pretending not to notice what Cheon Hui truly felt, continued to regard him as he asked his next question.
“How much time will you need before the next expedition?”
“I’m thinking we’ll rest for about three or four days, then move out again.”
As Cheon Hui spoke, his thoughts turned to the members of the Myeoljjeol Corps.
Their condition was far from good.
Many bore wounds and internal injuries, and the shock of their first taste of real combat had shaken their spirits deeply.
‘Treatment is one thing, but first I need to settle their hearts.’
Time to gather themselves was what they needed.
“Hmm, three or four days, you say……”
Seol Geom caught his beard between his fingers and stroked it thoughtfully.
This was a time of war where every hour counted.
In such circumstances, three or four days was quite substantial.
Especially now, with Ok Gi Rin’s separate force not yet organized, the strength of Cheon Hui and the Myeoljjeol Corps was needed all the more.
But soon enough, he nodded his head in acceptance.
The authority to deploy the Myeoljjeol Corps rested not with him, but with Cheon Hui, who sat directly before him.
“Very well.”
Snap!
Seol Geom unfolded his fan with a flourish.
A monochrome ink painting rendered on the fan came into view, and his eyes curved above it in a smile.
“But regarding the treatment of the Myeoljjeol Corps members — what are you planning? Will they visit the Medical Hall, or shall I send a physician directly to your quarters?”
At Seol Geom’s question, Cheon Hui opened his mouth with an expression that asked why the other was asking something so obvious.
“Obviously it’s easier if they come to us.”
“Then I’ll send word ahead to the Medical Hall.”
Having heard the reply, Seol Geom snapped his fan shut.
“If there’s anything you require, please let me know. I’ll prepare whatever I can as quickly as possible.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Cheon Hui looked at Seol Geom and smiled knowingly.
Ah, look at that — ambition written all over his face.
His true intentions were transparent.
In fact, he hardly seemed to be hiding them at all.
‘Well then….’
Watching Seol Geom’s eyes shine with desire, Cheon Hui slowly lifted the corners of his mouth in a smile.
The man was trying to use him — did he really think Cheon Hui would simply play along?
He had every intention of turning the tables and squeezing every advantage he could get.
Cheon Hui’s lips began to move.
“Then to start with, I’ll need Internal Injury Medicine and Wound Healing Medicine, and since the weather’s grown quite cold, Wind-Blocking Garments and……”
He poured out a stream of requests.
Not just what was genuinely necessary, but everything — including items they rarely used but might need as a precaution.
“And salt too, if you have it. It would be better if we could prepare meals ourselves……”
As Cheon Hui’s requests came pouring out like an endless waterfall, Seol Geom’s face went pale.
“……that would be good.”
At last, Cheon Hui came to the end of his list.
“Ha, ha ha. There certainly is quite a lot.”
Seol Geom, who had committed to memory the items Cheon Hui asked him to prepare, laughed awkwardly as though it were no simple task.
Cheon Hui shrugged at his reaction with an air of inevitability.
“Come on, when life and death hang in the balance, we should prepare as thoroughly as possible.”
Having finished speaking, Cheon Hui glanced out the window and continued.
“Besides, this much is something you can manage, isn’t it? Even if we gather everything, it costs less than what that other separate corps of Ok Gi Rin’s throws around.”
Seol Geom followed Cheon Hui’s gaze out the window and nodded silently.
There were indeed many items to prepare, but it wasn’t difficult to procure them.
The Myeoljjeol Corps numbered only forty-three people even counting Cheon Hui.
Compared to Ok Gi Rin’s separate corps, which aimed to fill five hundred positions, the task would be manageable.
‘At this rate, we’re getting a bargain. But more than that…….’
Seol Geom’s gaze grew grave.
The items he had requested were all indispensable to this raid operation.
There were even some items he wouldn’t have known about if he hadn’t personally conducted such work before.
‘Has he done something like this before?’
Just as he was about to sink into contemplation, troubled by the question—
“How soon can you have everything ready?”
Cheon Hui asked abruptly.
“The sooner the better, ideally.”
At his follow-up, Seol Geom shifted the direction of his thoughts and calculated an approximate timeframe.
“Two days should suffice.”
It was the maximum he could squeeze out—every last moment he could wring from the hours.
But then—
“Two days? That long?”
Cheon Hui’s expression darkened with displeasure.
‘What takes so long about that?’
In his previous life, the Tianma Divine Sect would have produced such items immediately, laid before him the moment he spoke.
‘Tsk, tsk, tsk. How peaceful. How terribly peaceful.’
He clicked his tongue inwardly and shook his head, then released a small sigh.
“A pity, but it can’t be helped.”
With that, Cheon Hui rose from his seat.
“Then let’s go.”
“Mind your step on your way out.”
When Seol Geom offered this farewell without trying to detain him, Cheon Hui glanced briefly at the roof.
Then he chuckled softly.
“Looks like that little rat has fled.”
……
At those words, Seol Geom fell silent.
“Well, see you next time, then.”
Cheon Hui left the room without waiting for an answer, as though he hadn’t expected one.
Once fully outside the Pavilion, Cheon Hui gazed at the room where lamplight flickered and wavered.
‘Such a tiresome business.’
His watchful eyes grew cold, sharper than the winter night air itself.
‘So that’s what a strategist is—assigning someone connected to spies and conspirators to my direct command. Clever.’
As Cheon Hui dwelt on Je Gal, he watched the lamp extinguish, the room succumb to darkness, then withdrew his gaze and moved on.
* * *
The morning of the next day.
After a rare, sound sleep, Cheon Hui rose from his Bedchamber and opened the closed window.
Warm sunlight streamed in.
Whoooosh—
An opposite, cool wind blew in.
The height of winter weather.
No snow had fallen yet, but the wind proved the season unmistakably—bitterly cold.
It was then.
“Hah!”
“Ha!”
Sharp, forceful cries echoed loudly.
Cheon Hui looked down.
In the Training Grounds below, overgrown with weeds, all the Myeoljjeol Corps members were training earnestly.
Had they begun their drills from the early dawn?
Their Martial Robes and hair were already drenched with sweat, clinging heavily to their bodies.
Cheon Hui let out a quiet laugh.
‘They’ve sharpened up a bit.’
After watching them for a moment, Cheon Hui turned away from the window and pulled on the Sect Robe hanging in one corner of his chamber.
Then he retrieved two swords.
A moment later, he slipped out through the door.
In the silent Pavilion, only the sound of Cheon Hui’s footsteps echoed loudly.
When he arrived at the Training Grounds shortly after, he saw them and opened his mouth.
“What brings you all out to practice so early?”
“Master!”
“You’ve recovered well.”
Several of them greeted Cheon Hui, while at the same time others shrank back.
‘Still frightened, then.’
Cheon Hui glanced at those gripped by fear, then turned his head and spoke.
“You all seem uneasy.”
Every body tensed in an instant.
He had struck a nerve.
‘Now that their bodies have rested, it all comes back to them.’
The reason they had ventured out so early was simple.
When exhausted, they had no spare energy to dwell on their first real battle, but after returning and receiving treatment and rest, their minds grew restless.
“Well, it’s better to swing wildly than do nothing at all, but it’s far too inefficient like that.”
Cheon Hui swept his gaze across them methodically.
“Let me guide your training.”
As he spoke, he curled his index finger.
“Come on.”
An obvious provocation.
Yet no one moved.
They had already witnessed Cheon Hui’s martial prowess firsthand.
While they all stood there hesitantly.
Thud!
Three figures charged forward with resolve.
Dan Ri Gwan Cheon, Ho Gwang Gae, and Mu Hong.
‘This chance won’t come again.’
‘Crossing hands with the Maehwa Sword Association—there’s nothing better than this!’
‘To witness his martial prowess…’
Competitive fire blazed in their eyes.
“Good.”
Cheon Hui spoke as if pleased.
Without competitive spirit, a warrior’s growth would stall right there.
To move forward, one had to adopt the same resolve as these three who rushed toward him.
Dan Ri Gwan Cheon gripped his wooden sword tightly.
‘One strike. I stake everything on one strike.’
His resolve traveled to his Lower Dantian, and the Internal Force of the Dae Ra Shin Gong surged like wildfire.
A pure white vapor spread in an instant.
The Internal Force of the Dae Ra Shin Gong, flowing through his meridians like a grand circulation, spread throughout his entire body.
Soon his lower limbs were awash with that force.
Crack—
His muscles screamed.
The excessive Internal Force of the Dae Ra Shin Gong swelled his thighs and calves to their limit.
Because of this.
Sharp pain struck the flank he had taken a hit on from Jeok Ho Chae Ju, and his previously stabilized internal injury began to worsen, his Qi and Blood flowing in an unstable current.
Yet he did not stop.
He had to see the outcome.
In one strike.
Dan Ri Gwan Cheon, unfolding the Boo Un Yak Pyo technique as he advanced, planted his left foot hard just as he reached four paces from Cheon Hui.
Thud.
Dust rose from the sharp impact of his heel.
At that same moment, Dan Ri Gwan Cheon’s upper body tilted forward as if collapsing.
In that instant, his arm vanished.
The movement was so fast it created the illusion of disappearing.
And moments later.
Flash!
A brilliant blade of light cleaved through the air.
Neng Poong Sword Method Form 3: Wind Thunder Blade.
The sword appeared like thunder splitting wind, lunging straight for Cheon Hui’s throat in one fluid motion.
It was a blade technique laden with lethal intent—far too dangerous to call a mere sparring match.
‘Connect!’
Dan Ri Gwan Cheon clenched his teeth.
But then.
Slip—
Cheon Hui’s eyes, fixed forward until that instant, suddenly dropped downward.
And in that moment.
Crash!
His vision went black.
“It was a good attack, but you left yourself completely exposed.”
Cheon Hui had seized Dan Ri Gwan Cheon by the head and slammed him into the ground, speaking even as he casually tilted his own head to the side.
Whisk!
A sharp wooden sword whistled past.
Cheon Hui simply watched Mu Hong, who had swung the wooden sword, his lips moving.
“Wasn’t that a bit slow? If you’re going to attack, you need to do it at the same time.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Ho Gwang Gae suddenly appeared from behind, extending his hand.
Baek Gyeol Shin Jang.
The Gae Bang palm technique struck precisely at Cheon Hui’s exposed back, where there was no defense.
The moment the palm connected—
‘Success….’
Ho Gwang Gae swallowed hard.
His hand had passed straight through Cheon Hui.
“Yi Hyeong Hwan Wi?!”
As he cried out—
“That one was fine.”
A voice came from directly behind him.
Ho Gwang Gae turned, startled.
There stood Cheon Hui, a faint smile on his lips, his left palm extended.
“But if you’re going to ambush someone, you need to conceal your presence like this.”
Thud!
Ho Gwang Gae’s waist bent like a sickle.
“Ugh!”
As Ho Gwang Gae staggered backward, clutching his waist—
Thud!
Another sound echoed.
Cheon Hui, who had attached himself to Mu Hong with the speed of a lightning flash, now held the wooden sword in his hands.
“…When did you—?!”
Mu Hong was horrified.
The wooden sword that had been in his grip had vanished into Cheon Hui’s hands without a trace.
He had been so swift that had Mu Hong blinked, he might never have noticed his weapon being taken at all.
“That sword technique I showed you before—was it this one?”
Cheon Hui spoke as he swung the wooden sword.
“What—!”
Watching, Mu Hong’s spirit nearly left him.
The sword technique before his eyes was the Gu Sang Sword Technique he had trained in.
“What matters in martial arts isn’t imitation—it’s true comprehension.”
Cheon Hui’s words echoed in his ears.
And in that moment—
“Don’t be swept away by martial arts. Color them with your own method. Like this.”
As he spoke, what unfolded was not the Gu Sang Sword Technique Mu Hong knew, but an entirely new form.
‘This is….’
As Mu Hong stared with dazed eyes at the sword technique blooming from Cheon Hui’s hands—
Crack!
Pain blossomed in his head.
Cheon Hui gazed at the unconscious Mu Hong, settling the wooden sword across his shoulder.
Then, observing each of the frozen Myeoljjeol Corps members one by one, he extended his index finger in a leisurely gesture and beckoned them forward once more.
“Come, then. Let the others in.”

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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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