Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 281

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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 281
Snow fell from a sky heavy with dark clouds.
Pure white flakes drifted slowly against the blackened heavens.
Beneath this contradictory landscape,
Clop-clop—clop-clop—
Dozens of horses thundered down the mountain road.
Each rider wore the same pristine white robes, draped like fresh snow.
It was the Myeoljoldae, escaped from Hyeol Woo Geom Ga.
“Riding like madmen.”
Cheon Hui muttered, watching the road ahead.
Any other time, he would have led the charge himself. But now, at the very front, a single horse tore forward at a speed that bordered on frenzy.
That rider was Dan Li Gwan Cheon.
The only member of Myeoljoldae with ties to Sichuan, he had moved with frantic urgency the moment Cheon Hui explained the mission.
All they could see was his back and the hands gripping his horse’s reins, yet every member of Myeoljoldae felt what churned within him.
Impatience. Anxiety. Worry.
Consumed by every dark emotion, he drove forward, eyes fixed straight ahead.
Then someone drew up alongside Cheon Hui on horseback.
It was Ho Gwang Gae.
“The sect’s in danger—what did you expect? If my Gae Bang were threatened, I’d gallop there myself in a heartbeat.”
Ho Gwang Gae, positioned closely beside Cheon Hui, spoke while keeping his eyes on Dan Li Gwan Cheon.
“The Chief would do the same, I imagine.”
“Well, I suppose he would.”
Cheon Hui answered matter-of-factly.
If Huashan Sect were in danger?
Whoever the enemy was, he would ride out at once.
‘I’ve invested so much effort into building Huashan Sect to its current strength.’
Just creating the An Hyang Dan and the Combined Formation alone had required considerable labor.
And that wasn’t all—he’d done countless things for them.
The sect could not collapse before it reached the pinnacle of all under heaven.
As Cheon Hui imagined Huashan Sect under attack, his brow tightened.
“Speaking of which, Chief—”
Ho Gwang Gae called out to Cheon Hui again.
His voice trembled faintly.
Though he feigned composure, he was visibly shaken more than ever before.
“Do you have some plan prepared for this mission?”
Ho Gwang Gae asked carefully.
These were no ordinary opponents.
Some two thousand warriors.
And not just any warriors at that.
The Blood Shadow Brigade and the Ghost Shadow Brigade.
Two of Sa Hyuk Ryeon’s four military forces, united in their assault.
How could one not be anxious?
And yet—
“No, not particularly.”
The answer came tersely.
“Why bother with some elaborate scheme? We just crush them.”
At Cheon Hui’s matter-of-fact words, Ho Gwang Gae found himself speechless.
Of course, he’d suspected as much.
When they attacked Hyeol Woo Geom Ga before, and in that first mission at Jeok Ho Fortress, hadn’t Cheon Hui simply ordered headlong assault?
‘But to do it again this time…’
He shook his head slowly.
It was far too crude.
Yet at the same time, he understood.
Because it was Cheon Hui.
The man who had toppled Pae Hyeol Geom and Mu Jeong Do Gaek, who had sent Black Night Cha and Seong Hui Na Chalsah fleeing with their tails between their legs.
‘With the Chief’s level of martial prowess, a plan is unnecessary. Besides, if we cobbled together a mediocre strategy and something unexpected arose, it would only lead toward disaster.’
In truth, a master of Cheon Hui’s caliber rendered any plan almost meaningless. So it was better to follow his lead—no plan, just meet force with force and gauge the opponent’s strength directly.
Thinking it through, Ho Gwang Gae let out a hollow laugh.
Time was, he would have only felt dread at the absence of a plan. But now it was different.
‘With the Chief here, there’s nothing to fear.’
His eyes held Cheon Hui within them.
The longer they spent together, the more keenly he felt the magnitude of Cheon Hui’s abilities.
Even now, he couldn’t help but marvel.
Unlike the other Myeoljoldae members who had pulled their White Wind Robes down tight against the relentless blizzard’s bite, Cheon Hui’s face lay fully exposed.
Perfectly composed.
As if he felt no cold at all.
‘He must have reached the pinnacle of Han Seo Bul Chim Ji Che.’
The thought made him whistle low.
Mastering Han Seo Bul Chim Ji Che meant he had achieved at least Bone Exchange and Fetus Replacement.
‘Dae Ju is among those rare few who truly deserve the title of genius.’
When he had first laid eyes on Cheon Hui.
There had been a flicker of envy.
Was he not also a warrior?
And though never spoken aloud, as one of Gae Bang’s promising younger generation, his own martial prowess ranked among the finest of that cohort.
So it was inevitable that Cheon Hui, who had recently earned such renown throughout Gangho, became an object of jealousy and rivalry.
But after joining Myeoljoldae, that jealousy and envy had washed away entirely.
‘Envy? How could there be?’
Jealousy required some measure of comparison to take root.
But the gap between them was so overwhelmingly vast that such thoughts never even formed.
Then Cheon Hui turned his head.
In that instant, their eyes met.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Ho Gwang Gae answered at once.
“Hmm? Something you want to ask?”
He flashed a bright smile and tapped his chest.
“Ha! Go ahead and ask. If I know it, I’ll tell you everything.”
“There’s someone named Nong Zhi bringing troops. Do you know who that is?”
Cheon Hui asked, recalling the name written in the communication document.
At first, he’d wondered if he’d misread it.
The name was identical—not a single character different—from that of a legendary demon in folklore.
A nine-tailed fox.
A creature that allegedly lured people to their doom with a child’s cry before devouring them.
‘It couldn’t have been written incorrectly.’
Ho Gwang Gae’s jaw went slack.
“W-what?! Nong Zhi is coming? That Blood-Tear Exultant King in Sichuan?”
His shock was so profound that even just his eyes, barely visible between the folds of his White Wind Robe, betrayed his current state of mind.
At that reaction, Cheon Hui tilted his head in deeper bewilderment.
“Blood-Tear Exultant King? Is he famous?”
“D-Dae Ju. What are you suddenly joking about? You couldn’t possibly not know of the Blood-Tear Exultant King——”
Ho Gwang Gae stammered in confusion.
“No? What joke?”
All that came back was a puzzled response.
Ho Gwang Gae’s expression stiffened slightly.
As someone rooted in Gangho, he’d never imagined there could be anyone who didn’t know Nong Zhi.
And yet.
‘Those eyes are sincere.’
The eyes asking the question were purely suffused with genuine curiosity.
‘I never expected Dae Ju to be this ignorant of the world’s ways.’
Caught off guard by this unforeseen situation, Ho Gwang Gae asked very carefully.
“Then, Dae Ju… surely you know of the Chilyo Seon? You’re not saying you don’t know them either——”
“Oh, I know those.”
Cheon Hui chuckled softly and replied.
“They’re masters under that Sa Hyuk Ryeon leader, or something like that.”
The Chilyo Seon were people whose names existed in Cheon Hui’s mind.
Yong Ju Gae and Hyeon Do had instructed him to be cautious of them in the conflict with Sa Hyuk Ryeon, repeatedly warning him not to engage if they crossed paths.
‘If not for Sa Hyuk Ryeon and O Hwang Moon, they would have all been lords of defeat in a single castle, wasn’t that what he said?’
As direct subordinates answering only to the Sa Hyuk Ryeon leader, their martial prowess was said to be unrivaled throughout Gangho.
“Ah! So that’s why he’s Nong Zhi.”
Recalling the Chilyo Seon, he finally grasped who it was.
The Chilyo Seon took names from demons and creatures instead of their true names, he’d been told.
“What a bizarre name,” she muttered.
“Phew, thank goodness you’ve heard of them. I was worried you might not know…”
Ho Gwang Gae exhaled with relief.
Not knowing about Chilyo Seon would have been a grave matter, no matter how sheltered one was.
They were, after all, a crucial force of Sa Hyuk Ryeon.
But even that reassurance was short-lived.
‘No, wait—this isn’t something to be relieved about.’
He shook his head.
In war, information was everything.
And seeing Cheon Hui know nothing at all sent a thin current of unease through him.
‘I need to brief him on what we know…’
Ho Gwang Gae pressed on without pause.
“How much do you know about Chilyo Seon?”
“Well, enough, I’d say. To put it simply, they’re masters who follow only the orders of Sa Hyuk Ryeon’s leader. That much?”
Cheon Hui answered in a level tone.
“For now, that’s sufficient.”
Ho Gwang Gae nodded, his eyes suddenly bright with purpose.
“Nong Zhi is one of the Chilyo Seon.”
“I imagine he is.”
Cheon Hui responded as if it were obvious.
From the moment Ho Gwang Gae had first asked about Chilyo Seon, he’d already pieced together as much.
“And the current Nong Zhi is the first to have killed his predecessor and seized the position since Chilyo Seon was established. That’s earned him an even more fearsome reputation…”
“He seized it? You mean he wasn’t simply accepted?”
Cheon Hui’s question came at once.
“They just didn’t adopt him?”
“The seven seats of Chilyo Seon are fixed at exactly that number. To claim a seat, one must challenge the incumbent to a Life-or-Death Duel and wrest it from them. I’m not sure of the purpose, but so Sa Hyuk Ryeon’s leader decreed it…”
At the explanation, Cheon Hui’s eyes narrowed.
‘Wait—a Life-or-Death Duel to claim the seat? Hold on…’
Something felt familiar.
Cheon Hui asked him directly.
“The duel doesn’t have a time limit, does it? Once every seven years or something like that?”
Ho Gwang Gae’s eyes widened.
“How could you possibly…”
He could barely hide his shock.
While the names and aliases of Chilyo Seon were well-known, the details of their succession duels were not—that was privileged intelligence.
And here was Cheon Hui, who’d just asked who Nong Zhi was, somehow aware of information that had never reached the streets. Ho Gwang Gae had no choice but to be astonished.
Meanwhile, Cheon Hui’s gaze grew distant.
‘To see this method in Zhongyuan…’
What Cheon Hui had just described was the Demonic Position Seizure War—an ancient custom of the Tianma Divine Sect for establishing rank, passed down through countless generations.
Cheon Hui, watching Ho Gwang Gae’s startled face, tossed out an explanation.
“If the incumbent seven could face a Life-or-Death Duel at any moment without restriction, they’d be at too great a disadvantage. So I suspect they set a fixed interval.”
“I suppose…”
Ho Gwang Gae’s expression shifted from doubt to acceptance as he set aside his suspicions.
‘He didn’t even know who Nong Zhi was—how would he know that?’
Cheon Hui’s reasoning was sound enough that Ho Gwang Gae simply resumed his account.
“In any case, Nong Zhi’s fearsome reputation stems not only from his ruthlessness as a killer and his prodigious martial strength, but also from the source of his martial arts…”
“The source of his arts?”
“The Sha Huang Palace.”
Ho Gwang Gae’s eyes flickered.
It was fear.
“He’s said to have mastered the techniques of the Sha Huang Palace—a sect destroyed a hundred years ago.”
“The Sha Huang Palace martial arts?”
Cheon Hui’s interest deepened at once.
The techniques of the Sha Huang Palace—he’d glimpsed a few of them before, back in the repository of the Shadow Divine Sword, or rather, in Bidong’s collection.
One of the Three Crimson Methods: the Janbaek Janhyeol Jo.
‘It was quite exceptional.’
Among all the demonic arts he’d encountered, Janbaek Janhyeol Jo ranked among the finest.
‘I’ve been curious what other Sha Huang Palace techniques exist.’
A slow smile spread across his lips.
Cheon Hui’s expression twisted into something darker.
Anticipation welled up in his chest.
“I should meet her face to face.”
* * *
The Emei Sect.
On any ordinary day, it would have been a place of profound peace and quietude, but the heart of the current Emei Sect—Bok Ho Temple—lay under a heavy pall of tension.
“Sa Hyuk Ryeon, of all things……!”
“……They’ve come to the main temple.”
The nuns of the Emei Sect exchanged glances heavy with dread, their eyes fixed on the figures before them.
Nam Cheon, an elder of the Cheong Sung Sect and master of the Solitary Clear Sword, smiled wryly as he addressed the nuns of Emei.
“Though my disciples and I are but humble monks, we have come to offer what aid we can.”
Even at his words of assistance, shadow clung beneath the eyes of the Emei nuns.
Then it came.
Ting—
The sound of bells drifted through the air.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Followed by the sound of the Buddha Call.
That ethereal invocation echoed through the interior of Bok Ho Temple in a single moment, and a refreshing wave of energy swept through.
And shortly after.
Step—step—
A middle-aged nun descended slowly down the long stairway of Bok Ho Temple.
She carried a Six-Ring Staff in her hand.
With each step, the staff touched the ground.
Ting—
The bells of the Six-Ring Staff rang out.
How many steps had she taken?
She stopped.
The nun’s footsteps ceased.
In that instant, all the nuns brought their palms together.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
A low invocation sounded in all directions.
Soon the nun stood before the Daoist masters of Cheong Sung, and with her Six-Ring Staff, she offered a solemn salute with palms joined.
“Amitabha Buddha. It has been far too long.”
Nam Cheon hastily returned the gesture with clasped palms.
“It is an honor to see you again.”
After a respectful bow, Nam Cheon gazed at the nun before him and silently marveled.
The nun who had appeared was the Sect Master of Emei.
She was Yu Su Yak, renowned and honored as the Venerable Sogyun.
The world held that she had passed sixty years of age long ago, yet she appeared now as a woman who had only just crossed the threshold of forty—in the fullness of middle age.
“I received word through a communication document.”
The Venerable Sogyun spoke softly, her eyes narrowed.
The Emei Sect, boasting centuries of history, had never once permitted an invasion in all that time.
But today.
Crisis had come to such a place as Emei.
Blood-Ravaging King and two thousand subordinates.
In particular, the Blood Shadow Brigade were masters of vicious demonic arts—cultivators of a path entirely opposed to those who walked the Buddhist Way of Emei.
After a moment of contemplation, the Venerable Sogyun slowly opened her eyes and parted her lips.
“Cheong Sung is holding steady?”
“Our sect fares reasonably well. The immediate danger lies……”
Nam Cheon let his words trail away.
Yet everyone present could divine what was left unsaid.
The Venerable Sogyun brought her palms together.
“Cheong Sung faces peril as well, yet you have come to offer aid. For this, I am grateful.”
“You are too kind.”
Nam Cheon waved a hand in demurral.
“Our Sect Master wished to send more warriors, but the circumstances being what they are……”
“No—what you have brought is already more than enough. This is war in which lives may be forfeit; you have crossed far distances to aid us without hesitation. No amount of gratitude could suffice.”
The Venerable Sogyun smiled faintly, offering thanks with genuine warmth.
Had Cheong Sung been in greater danger, she too would have sent reinforcements, though she would surely have kept more hands here to defend Emei.
Such was the duty of a Sect Master.
“As Orthodox Sects of the same Sichuan, it is only right that we have done so.”
“Anyone knows that it’s easy to speak of such things, but far harder to carry them out. The courage of the Venerable Blade and the junior disciples who followed him deserves our deepest gratitude.”
Abbess Yun bowed deeply toward Nam Cheon and the disciples at his back, palms pressed together.
It was slower than before—a gesture brimming with genuine sincerity.
“Amitabha Buddha. We shall never forget the kindness Cheong Sung has shown us this day.”
With those words completed.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Nuns from all sides bowed in unison, palms together.
Moved by the sincere words and actions of the Emei Sect, Nam Cheon smiled in return and raised his fist in salute.
Just as they were about to lower their hands.
“Still, we’re told that reinforcements are being sent from the Murim Alliance. Let us wait and see.”
Nam Cheon spoke as if recalling something.
“That much is a relief.”
Abbess Yun exhaled deeply, her hand over her chest.
Reinforcements from the Murim Alliance would not be ordinary fighters.
A glimmer of reassurance had begun to settle in her eyes.
“Wait—Abbess!”
A young nun who had been guarding the Mountain Gate of Bok Ho Temple came running, breathless.
She had cast aside all propriety in her haste.
Several nuns were just beginning to show their bewilderment at her manner.
“The—the Murim Alliance reinforcements have arrived!”
At the young nun’s continued words, their faces brightened.
“The Murim Alliance support is already here?”
“As expected of the Murim Alliance!”
The faces of the surrounding nuns lit up with excitement, and Abbess Yun’s own countenance, which had been etched with anxiety, brightened as well.
Abbess Yun turned to the nun who had rushed over with the news.
“Tell me—how many have come?”
The question trembled with hope.
The young nun’s expression became awkward for a moment, then she answered with some hesitation.
“It’s… about forty men, Abbess.”
The faces of the nuns, who had been overjoyed at the word “reinforcements,” froze as though touched by ice.
“F-forty men?”
“That’s the number of reinforcements?”
The enemy numbered two thousand.
And the reinforcement was merely forty.
“…Forty men?”
Abbess Yun’s brow furrowed as well.
Yet on the other hand, she understood.
This had been a sudden attack, after all.
There had not been time to send a larger contingent.
Determined to think positively, she posed one more crucial question.
“Then who did the Alliance send? Was it the Third Brigade? The Fourth? Or did they select elite masters specifically?”
When one thought of a small, elite force, certain units came to mind.
Having named them, Abbess Yun regarded the young nun with a faint glimmer of hope.
“They said… Myeoljoldae, Abbess.”
“Myeoljoldae…?”
At a name she had never heard before, Abbess Yun’s expression clouded slightly.
“It’s a separate unit the Alliance has newly established.”
Nam Cheon answered.
His expression as he spoke was grim.
And no wonder—he had staked his own life to come to the aid of the Emei Sect.
Yet the reinforcements the Murim Alliance had sent amounted to a mere forty men.
And what is more…
Nam Cheon’s eyes narrowed.
“What manner of unit is Myeoljoldae?”
Abbess Yun asked.
Her voice trembled with a hope as fragile as a thread.
But the answer that soon came from Nam Cheon shattered that hope entirely.
“…I’ve heard it is a separate unit composed of later generation masters of the Murim Alliance.”

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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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