Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 29

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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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Episode 29
West of Hamyang County.
A massive structure rose sharply against the barren street, devoid of pavilions or taverns.
Three stories high.
The pristine building, seemingly erected not long ago, was none other than the Pacheonmun—a newly rising Hegemon faction within Seomser that had recently garnered considerable attention.
“Cold night, isn’t it.”
Jang Sam, a gate-guard swordsman of Pacheonmun, muttered while rubbing his hands together.
“Ha ha, well, it is evening after all.”
Chuk Go, who was standing guard beside him, laughed and replied, and Jang Sam shrugged his shoulders.
Then his eyes suddenly brightened.
“Say, did you hear about that?”
Jang Sam stopped rubbing his hands and spoke in hushed tones, his expression turning grave.
“Word is, news from the Pachgyeongdan that attacked the Bifung Trading Company has gone silent. Everyone’s in an uproar about it.”
“An uproar?”
Chuk Go chuckled softly.
“Likely they’ve finished up and are just having a drink now. Our sect leader must be enjoying himself with some wine, after all.”
“Ha ha, well, that’s true enough…”
The two, who had been chatting amiably, suddenly fell silent.
A presence drew gradually nearer from the darkness before them.
Footstep—footstep—
As the shadow approached, it emerged into the light spilling from Pacheonmun.
“Hm? Daoist Robes?”
Jang Sam tilted his head quizzically.
In the five years he had served as a gate-guard, not once had a Daoist come seeking Pacheonmun.
‘More than that, is there a Daoist who wears such dark robes?’
Scrutinizing the Daoist from head to toe—garbed in a rare combination of black and crimson—he spoke with careful courtesy.
“What brings you to our sect, sir?”
“To see your Sect Leader.”
The attitude and tone of speech suggested the figure had abandoned all pretense of courtesy. Both guards bristled.
“You insolent fool!”
“How dare you disrespect our Sect Leader!”
The Daoist, Cheon Hwi, regarded them with cold indifference as their faces flushed with rage.
“Stop your noise. Is your Sect Leader inside, or not?”
“You bastard!”
“I’ll teach you proper manners!”
Rather than apologizing, his words grew only more insolent. The moment both drew their swords simultaneously—
Crash!
A massive explosion tore through the air.
“What—what is that!”
“What’s happening!”
The disciples of Pacheonmun, who had been asleep at this late hour, hastily donned their martial robes and rushed from their quarters.
Then they froze, stunned by the sight before them.
“The gate…”
The massive gate that had guarded Pacheonmun for twenty years lay completely shattered, churning up clouds of dust.
A procession of warriors emerged in its wake.
Some sixty martial artists, bearing gray robes emblazoned with the character for “middle,” filed into view.
The Pajungdan—one of Pacheonmun’s three martial divisions—emerged and, rather than engaging the sect disciples, formed a rigid line like a human wall.
A sharp-featured middle-aged man at the head of the Pajungdan approached the ruined gate.
Hyeol Sal Do Gaek, who had once earned considerable renown as a Wandering Swordmaster in Seomser, narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the devastation.
“What in heaven’s name…”
Then.
Footstep—footstep—
The sound of footfalls echoed.
A figure emerged, piercing through the thick dust that had settled.
“You could have simply answered.”
Cheon Hwi, who had demolished the gate, locked eyes with Hyeol Sal Do Gaek, who stood facing him.
“How dare this place…”
As Hyeol Sal Do Gaek began to speak with grave composure, Cheon Hwi deemed it appropriate to respond.
“Are you the Sect Leader here?”
Hyeol Sal Do Gaek’s eyebrows shot upward.
“You insolent wretch! How dare you! You’re not fit to stand before such a person!”
“I don’t care.”
Cheon Hwi simply walked past him.
“This bastard—!”
The Hyeol Sal Do Gaek’s rage erupted just as he reached for his blade.
Whoosh—
Cheon Hwi’s fist descended far faster, hammering directly into his face.
Crack!
“Ugh!”
The Hyeol Sal Do Gaek’s head snapped back.
The force of the direct hit was catastrophic.
His body crumpled, and he collapsed to one knee before falling limp to the ground.
Gurgle—
His face was ruined.
His nose shattered and caved inward; his teeth scattered like broken shells across the floor.
“W-what? Sect Leader?”
The Pajungdan members had expected to see blood—but the tables had turned so completely that shock rippled through them.
Step—step—
Cheon Hwi walked straight into the Pacheonmun, treading casually over the fallen Hyeol Sal Do Gaek as he passed.
The Pajungdan members jolted upright.
“You—touch the Sect Leader—!”
“You bastard!”
The Pajungdan members who witnessed Cheon Hwi’s disrespect toward the Hyeol Sal Do Gaek drew their blades without hesitation, their feet thundering across the ground.
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
As they charged toward him, swearing freely, Cheon Hwi kicked up the fallen swordmaster’s blade.
Whoosh!
He caught it mid-air with practiced ease.
In that same fluid motion, he drew upon the inner power of the Plum Blossom Divine Art and channeled it directly into the blade.
The transformation was extraordinary.
Crack-crack-crack!
Unable to withstand the torrent of the Plum Blossom Divine Art’s power, the blade began to fracture with an ominous sound.
The blade couldn’t hold.
Boom!
It detonated with a thunderous explosion.
“W-what—!”
“……!”
As the shattered blade fragments shot outward like projectiles, the Pajungdan members scattered in panic.
Some turned and fled.
Others raised their weapons to shield themselves.
But before they could react—
Thud-thud-thud!
The fragments tore through them.
The blade pieces pierced their bodies faster than any could escape, and the weapons they’d raised shattered under the impact.
“Gh—gahhhh…”
“Aaaaagh!”
Within moments, shrieks filled the air.
But the screams didn’t last long—they faded rapidly.
In their place remained only faint groans and the desperate pleas of those begging for their lives.
“Not bad at all. I should use this more often against small-time thugs like these.”
Cheon Hwi tossed aside the hilt—the blade itself was long gone—and surveyed the scene.
It had all ended in an instant.
Two-thirds of the Pajungdan members hadn’t even had time to register pain before death claimed them.
As for the remaining third—were they unscathed?
No.
Those who’d barely survived were in critical condition: they would either die soon or spend the rest of their lives as cripples.
Shudder—
The remaining Pacheonmun disciples trembled with terror at the hellish scene before them.
“Th-this can’t be…”
Their faces went white with dread at a sight so incomprehensible.
It had taken only a heartbeat.
From the moment the young Daoist’s foot kicked at the blade, to the carnage unfolding now.
That was when Cheon Hwi turned his head.
“Where is the Sect Leader?”
The Pacheonmun disciples all held their breath at once.
Had it been moments earlier, they would have bristled at such a question, but having glimpsed Cheon Hwi’s power, they could do nothing.
Seeing them, Cheon Hwi narrowed his brows.
“Hmm, surely not all of you are mute.”
He spoke in that low, muttering way before rolling his foot forward.
Whoosh!
His figure vanished.
In the next instant, Cheon Hwi had threaded through the ranks of Pajungdan members standing in formation.
……!
The moment a Pajungdan member finally caught sight of Cheon Hwi, his eyes went wide.
Slap!
Cheon Hwi seized his face.
Then, slowly, he began to apply pressure with his fingers.
“Aaaaaahhh!”
Watching him scream, Cheon Hwi nodded and released his grip.
Then he stared directly into the man’s terror-stricken eyes and moved his lips.
“Where. Is. The Sect Leader.”
“A-ah, inside……”
The moment he heard the answer, Cheon Hwi tightened his grip once more on fingers he had just released.
Crack!
“Inside, you say?”
Still muttering, Cheon Hwi hurled the corpse aside and looked up at the Pacheonmun hall.
The Pacheonmun disciples who had been holding their breath nearby began creeping backward.
Cheon Hwi cocked his chin up.
Those trying to flee forced out awkward laughs the moment Cheon Hwi’s gaze fell upon them.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Cheon Hwi’s hand moved.
Crack! Thud!
A one-sided slaughter unfolded.
The Pacheonmun disciples watching his relentless, merciless execution trembled with dread.
“This damned dog!”
“And you call yourself a Daoist?”
“Is this the cruelty a true Daoist permits himself?”
Watching them speak of him thus, Cheon Hwi’s face twisted into an expression of bitter absurdity.
As if emboldened by this, one of the Pacheonmun disciples pointed and shrieked.
“If word of this atrocity spreads, you’ll face expulsion from the sect—aaaahhh!”
Snap-snap-snap!
Cheon Hwi broke his fingers.
“Who gave you the right to point?”
Then he seized the man’s throat and lifted him. The man, whose neck was in that iron grip, stared into Cheon Hwi’s eyes—eyes as deep and fathomless as an abyss—and shrieked.
“You! If the Orthodox Sect learns of such barbaric deeds, do you really think they’ll let you walk free?”
“Is that so?”
Cheon Hwi tightened his grip.
Crack!
The vertebrae shattered in an instant, and the man’s body went limp.
After hurling the corpse down, Cheon Hwi issued a warning to the watching Pacheonmun disciples.
“Then I simply kill all of you. Then no one will know this was my doing. Wouldn’t that be right?”
The Pacheonmun disciples’ faces drained of all color.
This was not a Daoist.
The Orthodox Sect was distasteful to them, yes, but there were still principles—lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
But what was this?
No principles. Just naked caprice.
Even the Unorthodox Sect would not stoop to this.
Then.
Squeak—
A middle-aged man with a magnificent beard emerged through the open door.
Sturdy shoulders and a confident bearing.
Cheon Hwi watched him appear with such confidence, and the corner of his mouth twisted into a sneer.
“So you’re the Sect Leader?”

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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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