Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 272

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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 272
The sparring match continued relentlessly.
“I told you not to let your guard down, didn’t I?”
Yuk Se Gon, biting his lip at Cheon Hui’s words thick with mockery, threw out a powerful fist as if refusing to admit defeat.
A strike infused with noble qi and martial power.
The Jade Dragon Palm—a technique of the Konglun Sect.
The Jade Dragon Palm unfurled with tremendous force, as a dragon might advance, aiming straight for Cheon Hui’s shoulder.
Whoosh—
Cheon Hui sidestepped it effortlessly with a light twist of his body, then smiled.
“You’re too predictable.”
As Yuk Se Gon leaned forward in that moment of overextension from unleashing the Jade Dragon Palm at full force, Cheon Hui extended his left hand.
A light gesture, as casual as plucking an insect.
Yet Yuk Se Gon’s face could not help but stiffen as he watched it approach.
The hand was already mere inches from his face.
The speed was overwhelming.
‘Too late—!’
Thud!
“Ugh!”
The violent impact pierced through his abdomen, his mouth fell open, and saliva sprayed.
In that moment as consciousness began to fade—
Crack!
He clenched his fist tightly.
How many times had this happened to him now? Too many to count on his fingers.
‘I’ll land one hit.’
Fire blazed in his eyes.
He harbored no illusions of victory.
Just one strike.
He wanted to land just one solid blow.
The moment he began to open his eyes wide and plant his feet firmly to deploy the Cold Fist—
Swish—
A black shadow consumed his vision.
It was a wooden sword.
‘Damn it, again—’
Crack!
A sharp sound rang out.
Yuk Se Gon crumpled forward helplessly, sprawling like a frog.
“At least you’re showing some backbone now?”
Cheon Hui, catching Yuk Se Gon with the wooden sword before he could hit the ground, tossed him to the side.
In the direction where Yuk Se Gon was thrown, a physician was in the midst of treating the unconscious members of the Myeoljjeol Corps, and Cheon Hui cast a glance his way before speaking.
“Could you take care of this one as well?”
Baek Ja Moon, the physician who had arrived on Seol Geom’s word, let out an involuntary sigh.
“Sigh… understood.”
He carefully moved Yuk Se Gon, who had collapsed with a dull thud on the ground.
Exhaustion was written across his face.
Since arriving here, half a double-hour had passed.
In that time, his hands had been busier than anyone else’s present.
‘How many times has this been now?’
He’d thought he would simply treat the wounded and those suffering from internal injuries and leave.
But what was this?
Patients knocked unconscious under the guise of training continued to return to him.
Just when he’d revive them and think they were conscious again, that Plum Blossom Divine Art practitioner would ruthlessly knock them out once more.
“There’s no end to this. No end at all.”
Baek Ja Moon, casting a sidelong glance at Cheon Hui, shook his head wearily.
He’d planned to finish treatment and leave quickly, but it seemed he wouldn’t be escaping anytime soon.
‘Ah well, I might as well do my job.’
Remembering his duty, he gently took Yuk Se Gon’s pulse where he lay.
‘But this is strange, I’ll say.’
Baek Ja Moon focused his attention, noting the pulse still beating vibrantly despite unconsciousness.
Normally, when someone lost consciousness, their pulse should become sluggish, yet Yuk Se Gon’s was not.
And it wasn’t only him.
Every last one of them lying unconscious here—it was truly a marvelous thing.
‘How on earth did he manage it…….’
It was around then that he grew puzzled.
“Speed Technique must be woven into a single whole. If you’re going to unfold them separately, why would you have learned them together? You have to link them as one…….”
Cheon Hui swung the wooden sword in dazzling arcs while correcting the trainees’ martial arts.
But.
Crack! Thwack!
“Ugh!”
“Ngh!”
None of that instruction reached the ears of Myeoljjeol Corps.
They were too busy defending themselves, too desperate to keep up.
“Your Internal Force must flow into the blade, and through the tips of your toes as they plant the True Stance…….”
Having evaded Im Ha Ryul’s sword, Cheon Hui pointed out his posture even as he swung the wooden sword.
“In one fluid motion. Like this.”
“Kyaaaah!”
Im Ha Ryul’s body flew backward with a cry.
“Come now, concentrate.”
Overwhelmed by the skill gap, Cheon Hui was toying with them, drumming his wooden sword across their bodies.
Almost like a punching bag.
Grit—
Myeoljjeol Corps ground their teeth, unable to hold back, glaring at him.
‘What kind of Plum Blossom Divine Art is this! He’s a demon!’
‘Arrrrgh! A great master, my foot!’
It had only been half an hour, but their perception of Cheon Hui had shifted dramatically.
And for good reason.
A one-sided beating continued throughout the sparring match—how could their feelings not be wounded?
Seeing the stubborn fire kindle in their eyes, Cheon Hui smiled with satisfaction.
“Now that’s a little more like it.”
It was just as he muttered this under his breath.
Shriek!
They all charged at once.
Through the sustained sparring, they had come to realize that not attacking would only mean more punishment, so they chose the most promising offensive.
Whoosh—
Cheon Hui flowed around Dan Ri Gwan Cheon’s Wind Blade Method as he was the first to rush forward, and opened his mouth.
“A Blade Technique that channels Heavenly Nature Killing Intent—you shouldn’t be swinging it around like that, should you?”
Dan Ri Gwan Cheon’s eyes widened at Cheon Hui’s words.
They echoed what his old master had said when teaching him the Wind Blade Method.
‘He’s seen through the Wind Blade Method……?’
His eyes shook violently for a moment.
“Keep your intellect cool.”
As he spoke, Cheon Hui drew up the inner power of the Plum Blossom Divine Art.
Then his lips moved again.
“Even Heavenly Nature Killing Intent—no, even Heaven’s Mandate itself—the subject of martial arts remains human.”
Cheon Hui, who had just spoken the supreme truth encompassing the essence of all martial arts under Heaven beyond even the Wind Blade Method, moved his left hand, which was not holding the wooden sword.
“When mind and person are not shaken, you will not be swept away by the martial arts you possess.”
His left hand undulated like a wave, flowing like wind through the air, and then gently caressed empty space several times.
Roooar!
As if handling orchid flowers, his soft and flowing hand gestures created a massive whirlpool.
It was the manifestation of the Orchid Flower Sword Blood Method—a technique of Huashan Sect that had been lost hundreds of years ago.
“……!”
Dan Ri Gwan Cheon gasped.
His body was beginning to be drawn inexorably into the whirlpool, which carried an overwhelming force.
‘If this keeps up……!’
In desperation, he unfurled the Thousand Root Strike to resist.
Snatch!
Cheon Hui’s left hand seized his wrist.
The hand that had begun to wrap gently around Dan Ri Gwan Cheon’s arm suddenly hooked it and sent his entire body back the way it came, hurling him away.
“Dan Ri, step back!”
“Hah!”
The members of Myeoljjeol Corps who had been rushing forward behind him faltered as Dan Ri Gwan Cheon suddenly flew toward them.
And the moment he hurried to catch him.
“It’s admirable to think of your comrades….”
Cheon Hui, who had appeared at their side without warning, looked down at them with a gentle smile playing at his lips.
A soft smile lingered at the corner of his mouth.
Yet cold sweat trickled down the forehead of the Myeoljjeol Corps members who beheld it.
And in that moment.
“But you mustn’t forget your opponent.”
His wooden sword moved, spawning countless blade images that descended upon them.
Thud-thud-thud!
“Aaagh!”
“S-stop!”
“Captain!”
Screams and the sound of collisions filled the air.
But Cheon Hui did not stop.
Instead, he pressed the Myeoljjeol Corps even harder, swinging his wooden sword with brutal force.
Moments later, not a single member of the Myeoljjeol Corps remained standing—all of them lay sprawled across the ground.
Cheon Hui surveyed them and opened his mouth.
“Sigh, to be so weak.”
The eyebrows of the fallen twitched.
‘Weak?’
‘You’re the strong one!’
Indignation rose within them.
Yet none of them dared voice their resentment aloud.
They had no way of knowing what fate would befall them if they did.
Cheon Hui, after shaking his head once, spoke again.
“Then rest a moment and we’ll go again.”
Go again?
The faces of the Myeoljjeol Corps members turned ashen.
Even this alone was nearly killing them—and he meant to do more after they’d recovered?
Seeing their expressions, Cheon Hui laughed.
“You’ll thank me for this someday, I’m sure.”
With those words, his eyes flashed with intensity.
“Because of me, you’ll manage to survive at least once.”
* * *
The Gangho fell into turmoil.
Beginning with Nok Lim’s assault on the Huashan Sect, waves of upheaval crashed down relentlessly.
The greatest sensation among all these events.
Was the rumor that a collision would occur between the Murim Alliance and Sa Hyuk Ryeon.
Everyone showed interest in the spreading rumors, but most predicted nothing would actually happen.
If the two clashed, only the Bi Cheon Society, sitting idle, would gain advantage.
It was the obvious conclusion for anyone with sense.
Yet they soon found themselves holding their breath at the reports that followed.
“The Murim Alliance has declared war on Sa Hyuk Ryeon and is now obliterating every Sapa faction in the Kangbuk Murim!”
“The Murim Alliance has destroyed the Jeok Ho Chae as an example!”
At first, no one believed it.
But when word spread that the bandits of Jeok Ho Chae had been arrested by officials, the world understood the rumors to be true.
“The Murim Alliance and Sa Hyuk Ryeon at war?”
“Such a thing is happening?”
It was shockingly significant—those immersed in the Gangho were stunned, and even outsiders could not hide their astonishment.
The era of the Guzhou Three Powerhouses, maintained for decades, might crumble.
The Gangho surged with commotion.
It was like casting not a stone, but a boulder into a once-tranquil lake.
“The age of the Guzhou Three Powerhouses is finally over!”
“Is this something to celebrate? The Gangho will be drenched in blood!”
“Ha ha ha! I’ve long thought the era of the Guzhou Three Powerhouses was ill-suited to the Gangho. Peace? Nonsense! A world of survival of the fittest, where the strong reign supreme—that is the true Gangho. The Gangho should be soaked in blood, not kept in stagnant peace.”
As news of the clash between the two major powers spread, opinions scattered in all directions.
Some welcomed the new era, while others worried or feared the sparks might ignite their own houses.
But there was one thing.
An opinion all held in common.
That a chaotic era was about to arrive.
And so, while everyone’s attention was fixed on the Murim Alliance’s declaration of war,
Creak—
the western gates of the Murim Alliance swung open, and a mounted contingent emerged.
Their appearance was truly distinctive.
Clad entirely in pristine white Wind Robes, they revealed only their eyes—eyes that gleamed with a razor-sharp, venomous light.
Then, belatedly, a man stepped out.
“Four days have passed, I see.”
It was Seol Geom, a Folding Fan held in his hand.
Seol Geom approached the man at the very front and tilted his head upward.
A face with only the eyes exposed came into view.
Gazing steadily forward, those dark pupils were so unfathomably deep that one felt drawn into them merely by looking.
Seol Geom opened his mouth toward him.
“Then I entrust this mission to you as well, Cheon Hui.”
Cheon Hui’s eyes lowered slightly.
In that calm gaze, there was not a trace of tension.
‘……So this is nothing to him.’
Even as Seol Geom swallowed his own unease,
Whoosh—
a pale hand extended forward.
As Seol Geom looked at the sudden gesture with confusion, Cheon Hui spoke.
“Hand it over quickly if you have it. You must be busy too, after all.”
“As expected of you. You understand at once.”
Seol Geom, smiling faintly, produced a tome from his breast and handed it over carefully.
“This is a document containing information about the Hyeolwoo Geom Family, the target of this mission.”
“Quite thick, isn’t it.”
As Cheon Hui examined the tome and frowned, Seol Geom added quietly,
“It contains the organizational structure, the number of masters, their martial arts, and everything else.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
Cheon Hui glanced at the document briefly, then nodded and carelessly shoved it into the luggage tied to the side of his horse.
“I’ll read it later.”
“……You must read it. As I mentioned before, the Hyeolwoo Geom Family is a Sapa clan with considerable history. It is not a faction to take lightly—prepare as thoroughly as possible and exercise utmost caution.”
Seol Geom spoke with lowered eyes.
The Hyeolwoo Geom Family, a Sapa clan located at the border of Hubei and Sichuan, had dominated their region for over two centuries, an area swarming with Orthodox Sect sects.
The depth of their power was almost beyond words.
“Ah, and one more thing…….”
Seol Geom, trailing off, produced another tome. It was thicker than the document about the Hyeolwoo Geom Family.
“This is the personnel information about the Myeoljjeol Corps that you mentioned before.”
Hearing the quietly spoken words, Cheon Hui chuckled and took the tome.
“I heard it would take some time, but you’ve prepared quickly.”
“Is it not the request of the Myeoljjeol Corps Commander? Above all else, I made it the highest priority.”
Seol Geom emphasized the words “Myeoljjeol Corps Commander” and “highest priority” deliberately.
He was asking for acknowledgment of his effort.
“Excellent. It seems preparations are now complete.”
Cheon Hui nodded with a satisfied expression as if in response, then looked back.
The members of the Myeoljjeol Corps, clothed in white Wind Robes trimmed with fur, carried a keenly honed aura about them.
Four days of uninterrupted sparring, day and night.
Their nerves were taut, and their momentum blazed.
Cheon Hui confirmed their state and grasped the reins as he spoke.
“Let us depart now.”
Seol Geom stepped back several paces.
“Go with care.”
Before those words had even finished, Cheon Hui turned to address the Myeoljjeol Corps.
“Is everyone prepared?”
“We are!”
The members of the Myeoljjeol Corps all hardened their eyes.
Upon hearing their resonant reply, Cheon Hui twisted his lips in satisfaction.
“Then let us go.”
The moment those words ended, forty-three horses stirred with violent force and began galloping fiercely toward the west.
Toward their destination—the Hyeolwoo Geom Family.

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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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