Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 276

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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 276
Black clothing armor-plated across his entire body, his face concealed beneath a Yaksha Mask fitted snugly to his skin.
It was a grotesque sight.
One might even have called it absurd.
Yet no one on the Estate Grounds dared to mock his appearance.
How could they?
In all of Gangho, across All Under Heaven, there was only one man known to wear a Yaksha Mask.
“……Heuk Yacha.”
Mu Hong exhaled the name in a hushed breath.
He was not alone.
Every member of Myeol Jeol Dae Won on the Estate Grounds drew in sharp, breath-held whispers, their movements freezing in place.
The name Heuk Yacha carried no lightness to it.
One of the three preeminent masters of All Under Heaven.
So brilliant a genius that the Sa Hyuk Ryeon leader had taken him on as a personal disciple based solely on his talents.
Every accolade imaginable fell upon him.
“I heard he would need time to arrive……yet here he is already.”
“It was an unexpected development.”
Cold sweat beaded on the backs of the Myeol Jeol Dae Won fighters.
Cheon Hui had been driving Pae Hyeol Geom, the master of the Blood Sword Clan, toward the brink of defeat and was on the verge of seizing victory.
Yet with the sudden emergence of Heuk Yacha and his entourage, the battlefield had shifted into a new phase entirely.
Meanwhile, indifferent to the deep tension settling over the surroundings, Cheon Hui appraised Heuk Yacha with an almost leisurely gaze, as though merely admiring a curiosity.
Then he tilted his head with a quizzical expression.
‘No matter how cold the weather has gotten, isn’t that wrapped up a bit too tight? Isn’t he sweltering?’
It was his first impression upon seeing Heuk Yacha.
The great cloak was even bulkier than his frame.
And between his collar and sleeves, even the hands that showed were hidden beneath jet-black cloth woven intricately into fine strands.
‘Just looking at it makes me feel suffocated.’
Cheon Hui shook his head slowly.
Upon closer inspection, even his ears and cheeks, not fully obscured by the mask, were perfectly concealed.
It seemed his entire body was covered.
‘Does he not want his skin to show?’
In that moment, a glimmer of light flashed across Cheon Hui’s eyes.
Curiosity had sparked—what could he possibly wish to hide so thoroughly that he would wrap himself in cloth to such an extraordinary degree?
That was when it happened.
Whoosh—
The Yaksha’s gaze shifted, his mask turning.
It faced the direction where Cheon Hui stood.
From the two holes carved into the mask, an eerie, cold cyan light spilled forth.
“That was admirable swordplay.”
A voice steeped in displeasure descended upon the Estate Grounds.
Those gathered here felt a chill simply from hearing it—that uncanny, grotesque voice twisted every face present.
Was it a man or a woman?
What martial discipline had been cultivated?
None of it could be determined.
Like something dwelling in the realm of the unknowable, everything about him seemed shrouded in fog, opaque and impenetrable.
Under that veil of inscrutability, all eyes on the Estate Grounds converged in an instant.
Yet Heuk Yacha seemed utterly indifferent to their stares.
His gaze fixed only on Cheon Hui.
“To possess such martial prowess at that age.”
The Yaksha’s eyes radiated cyan light.
It was an eerie, oppressive aura designed to make one recoil.
Then, from beneath Heuk Yacha’s feet, a fierce, piercing energy erupted and detonated outward from his center.
In an instant, a tempest swept across the Estate Grounds.
Those present hurriedly mobilized their Internal Force against the storm of Sagi, but—
“Ugh!”
“Gasp!”
They could not dissipate the impact entirely.
Moreover, the density of Sagi now bearing down upon the Estate Grounds was so immense that even resistance seemed futile.
Whoosh!
Heuk Yacha’s ash-grey hair whipped upward.
It was a moment that created the illusion of the Yaksha Mask transforming into an actual yaksha.
Then.
“The wind is rather violent, wouldn’t you say?”
Cheon Hui spoke with perfect composure.
He raised the Hwa Weol as if unbothered by the tempest of killing intent swirling around him.
The Hwa Weol blurred in the next instant.
Flash!
A dazzling brilliance erupted from the blade.
The once-blurred Hwa Weol suddenly wheeled like a shaft of light, drawing a horizontal line across the void.
A single sword stroke that bisected heaven and earth.
In that instant, the air above the Estate Grounds surged like a turbulent river.
The straightforward sword strike hurtled toward Heuk Yacha’s waist.
The speed was terrifying.
The blade collided with the killing intent he was radiating.
Crack-crack-crack!
The killing intent shattered mercilessly.
It was torn to pieces beyond recognition.
……
Heuk Yacha’s eyes, which had been gazing down at his surroundings with his chin held high in utter arrogance, grew dim.
But there was no shock in that gaze.
As if it were something he had already anticipated.
And then.
Whoosh!
A black shadow cut through the middle and charged in.
Boom!
An explosion tore through the air, and dust billowed up in an instant.
Thrust!
Piercing through the dust, the shadow rushed forward.
It was a middle-aged man emanating fierce aura among those who had arrived at the Estate Grounds with Heuk Yacha.
At some point, a blade had appeared in his hand.
It was a Geodo, dark as ink, wrapped in an obsidian sheen.
He had considerable strength.
Cheon Hui immediately planted his heel.
The moment he felt the tip of his leather boot kiss the earth, his body rocketed forward.
The Hwa Weol rose in response.
‘Maehwa Nak Seom.’
Thought became blade in a heartbeat.
The Hwa Weol moved like a dragon ascending, meeting the middle-aged man’s blade head-on in a single breath and detonating a tremendous shockwave.
Crash-crack-crack!
The space where blade met sword warped, and the impact rippled outward like waves.
Thump—
Those who had been restraining Heuk Yacha’s killing intent by channeling their Internal Force found themselves swept up in the shockwave and landed hard on their backsides without knowing what had happened.
It was a sight beyond comprehension.
Even the sparring match between Pae Hyeol Geom and Cheon Hui had looked like a battle of absolute masters to them, yet what they were witnessing now transcended even that.
‘Such a monster exists?’
The middle-aged man’s eyes trembled.
He could not believe it.
Who was he?
Ten years ago, he had reached the pinnacle of the Wuji Realm and made his name throughout Gangho under the epithet Mu Jeong Do Gaek.
For that reason, he had been personally recruited as a Dharma Protector by the Sa Hyuk Ryeon itself.
He possessed absolute confidence in his own abilities——
Yet here a youth who appeared to have only just crossed the threshold of adulthood was stopping his blade cold, and he was at a loss for words.
‘So the Plum Blossom Divine Art truly lives up to its reputation……’
Mu Jeong Do Gaek’s robes billowed.
The Mu Ryang Gong, which he had cultivated since childhood, wrapped around his entire body before erupting outward.
Whoosh!
The violent shockwave of that unleashed power tore his sleeves to shreds, baring skin beneath.
His bulging muscles were threaded with prominent tendons, and a sinister aura poured from his hands and blade.
The spilling aura coalesced around the blade like a whirlpool.
Within it, his blade wrapped itself in even fiercer aura, drawing fresh power.
It was, quite literally, a force of defeat.
A power capable of shattering everything.
It was the wave of energy emanating from one who had glimpsed the Celestial Martial beyond the limits of martial arts.
‘Considerable skill.’
Cheon Hui smiled faintly upon witnessing this.
The blade aura felt from the clash with Hwa Weol was very substantial indeed.
Even within the Wuji Realm, among the higher tiers.
He could sense that this opponent was decidedly superior to Pae Hyeol Geom, whom he had just clashed with moments before.
Cheon Hui nodded inwardly and subtly redirected his blade.
It was the technique of Ihwa Jeop Mok.
The blade, drawn along by the technique of Ihwa Jeop Mok, flowed after Hwa Weol’s blade for just a moment.
“How dare you!”
Mu Jeong Do Gaek bellowed.
His piercing voice vibrated the air itself, churning up a fierce wind.
At the same moment, his muscles swelled dramatically.
Crack—
A tearing sound rang out.
In his attempt to meet the Ihwa Jeop Mok through sheer force, his muscles had reached their limit.
Yet Mu Jeong Do Gaek did not relent.
“Did you think things would go your way?”
Bellowing, Mu Jeong Do Gaek thrust his feet forward without hesitation.
His form blurred suddenly, and in a single breath he had closed the distance between them drastically.
Hoe Ryu Hyeon Hyeon.
A unique speed technique he had mastered, containing the subtlety of evasion and attack woven together.
Because of it, the two drew rapidly closer.
Close enough that their breath would mingle—an intimacy measured in mere inches.
At a distance too short to properly employ sword or blade technique, Mu Jeong Do Gaek—
Whip!
Suddenly twisted at the waist.
It was a supple, explosive movement.
And immediately he extended his left hand.
A subtle technique executed in tandem with the twist of his hips.
From the fully opened palm, fierce energy streamed forth in torrents.
Like hidden thunder.
‘Fast reflexes.’
Cheon Hui’s eyes narrowed.
Typically, blade-wielders devoted themselves entirely to blade technique rather than hand methods.
But he was different.
His hand techniques were formidable as well.
‘And cunning too. He closed the distance to restrict my sword work, and now he seeks victory through hand combat—a worthy opponent indeed.’
Cheon Hui, observing the palm aimed directly at his temple, arched his torso back with razor-thin precision and slipped past.
Whoosh!
A vicious wind lashed past his nose.
By the time his hair had belatedly shot upward, Cheon Hui had already stepped backward.
Swish—
Simultaneously, having deployed the An Hyang Pyo, he twisted the foot that had just landed.
His body spun in a full rotation.
Like a dancer performing a sword dance, his movements were magnificent—his sect robes billowed wide, and through the fabric, the smooth blade of Hwa Weol traced a line.
A beautiful arc.
Red light followed the path of the spinning blade, painting a splendid trajectory.
A perfect counterattack achieved in an instant.
Cheon Hui’s eyes fixed on Mu Jeong Do Gaek.
The face that had been twisted in anger was now colored with shock, eyes widened as though witnessing the impossible.
And—
Slide—
The left hand he had hastily raised to block rose slowly, almost sluggishly.
‘Too slow.’
Hwa Weol pierced cleanly through the back of Mu Jeong Do Gaek’s hand that could not fully rise in defense.
Soon, Hwa Weol—embedded in flesh—rose sweetly through his shoulder blade, cleaving it.
A terrible shriek—
Blood surged forth.
“Ugh!”
Mu Jeong Do Gaek let out a groan.
He glanced rapidly at his left arm.
The sword wound that ran from his shoulder down was so deep that pale bone showed through.
It was a mortal injury.
Mu Jeong Do Gaek’s brow furrowed at the searing pain radiating from his left shoulder.
Grit—
He clenched his teeth.
His left arm had gone numb.
As blood dripped from his fingertips and pooled at his feet—
“It’s not over yet.”
A calm voice struck his ears.
“……!”
Then the sword blade entered his field of vision.
Mu Jeong Do Gaek snapped to attention, unleashed the Hoe Ryu Hyeon Hyeon technique, and poured all his strength into a downward blade strike.
Crash!
The blade, swung with the heavy force that only dense muscle could muster, crushed the air as it descended.
The subtlety of weight.
Fierce energy poured from the swinging blade, raising a tempest around the arena.
In that instant, the horizontally slashed sword and the vertically falling blade collided in midair.
Screech-screech-screech!
The space between them warped.
The atmosphere could not withstand the overwhelming collision of force.
Then.
Trickle—
A thin line of blood ran down from Mu Jeong Do Gaek’s clenched lips.
An internal injury.
Despair flickered in his eyes.
It had seemed as though he’d blocked it cleanly, but the outcome was already sealed.
His gaze shifted backward.
Toward Heuk Yacha.
‘I have to run…….’
As he muttered the thought to himself—
Clang!
In the same moment Hwa Weol split the blade in two—
Sickening slash!
A horrifying sound rang out.
The horizontally swinging Hwa Weol bisected the blade Mu Jeong Do Gaek had raised, and continued straight through his throat.
Thud—
The delayed shockwave shook the earth.
And across the sky above, crimson blood painted a terrible arc.
And in that space—
Cheon Hui held his sword stretched out.
A subtle energy poured from his entire body, slowly engulfing everything around him.
The manifestation of the Plum Blossom Divine Art.
Power infused with the Ja Yeon Ji Gi—the root of all energy under heaven—descended upon this moment, imposing a divine silence upon the world.
A sight that inspired awe.
Everyone stared at Cheon Hui, transfixed.
The already-dead Mu Jeong Do Gaek no longer even entered their vision.
Only Cheon Hui existed.
As if alone in this world.
Noble and utterly overwhelming.
Then.
Whoosh—
Cheon Hui’s figure abruptly vanished.
Like a candle snuffed out, it was dreamlike.
With the An Hyang Pyo technique deployed, Cheon Hui rushed at Heuk Yacha and his companions before they could even comprehend the situation, and swung his sword.
“Now it’s your turn.”

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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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