Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 308

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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 308
In Hubei, the Murim Alliance was a place that commanded the attention of any martial artist who heard its name.
It was one of the Guzhou Three Powerhouses.
They had established their seat here and grown their influence over the past several centuries.
And now, the gates of the Murim Alliance—subject to unprecedented scrutiny—swung open.
Creak—creak—creak—
A carriage rolled through the opening.
It was Cheon Hui’s carriage.
Behind it, dozens of horsemen and several more carriages entered the Murim Alliance compound.
“What’s going on……?”
“It’s too quiet.”
“Has something happened?”
Members of the Myeoljjeol Corps who had crossed through the gates murmured softly to one another, their expressions bewildered as they took in their surroundings.
It was the arrival of those whose every move the world now watched with bated breath.
The return of the Myeoljjeol Corps, the Pama Force, and the Hyeop Wi Force—those who had brought down the Immortal Heaven Sect.
It should have been cause for great fanfare.
Yet from the moment they had entered the alliance, a peculiar silence hung thick over the compound.
And it wasn’t as though the streets were empty.
Great crowds had gathered like clouds to welcome the return of those who had won such a magnificent victory.
Despite many being away on external assignments, the streets felt packed to bursting.
But.
……
All who had gathered simply watched this procession in silence.
‘What is this?’
‘Why is it like this? Do you know why?’
The Myeoljjeol Corps exchanged glances, their eyes speaking.
Most of them looked confused.
Understandably so.
They had expected the grand welcome they’d received at their last return—or rather, they’d anticipated an even greater reception. They’d entered with chests held high, their confidence unshakeable.
But this quiet was unexpected.
It was not a scenario they had anticipated.
The Myeoljjeol Corps, uncertain how to respond to this situation, was beginning to feel their way through it when—
“The situation appears to be less than favorable, it seems.”
From within the carriage, Yuk Won spoke with a bitter smile.
Looking out the carriage window at those who had come to greet them, he—unlike the members of the Myeoljjeol Corps—could read the situation.
In the expressions of the crowds watching from both sides, joy and sorrow existed side by side.
And that was not all.
Upon closer inspection, roughly a third of those gathered bore visible signs of hardship.
Some were wrapped so heavily in bandages that their wounds seemed grave indeed.
They were in the midst of war with the Sa Hyuk Ryeon.
True, some had returned bearing news of victory, but not all had fared so well.
There were those who had returned in defeat, their numbers plainly diminished.
And were these not all their comrades nonetheless?
One could not simply leap with joy and cry out in celebration.
Thus was born this strange sight—a reception, quiet and subdued.
“War is always thus, is it not? Had we heard nothing but victory reports, this war would have already ended.”
Hyeop Wi Dae Ju attempted to speak with detachment, yet sorrow threaded through his words despite his effort.
“……True.”
Yuk Won closed his eyes, then opened them again.
He felt the same as they did.
Though the mission had been accomplished, they too had suffered losses.
How many of his subordinates had fallen?
And that alone was not all.
Even Cheok Sa Gwi Geom, a trusted comrade with whom he had carried out duties for years, had fallen.
Victory had been won, but at great cost.
And that was what war was.
“It cannot be helped.”
He spoke calmly, swallowing down the sorrow that rose from within.
The war was not yet over.
There was no time for sentiment.
‘I won’t let myself be shaken by something like this.’
His gaze hardened.
Others might falter, but he could not afford to lose his grip on clarity.
He could not sow seeds of doubt among those who followed him with such unshakeable faith.
‘More than that…….’
In that moment, his eyes flickered sideways.
Toward Cheon Hui across from him.
‘I’m concerned. He’s completed his mission, yet such a grim reception awaits him…….’
A faint worry took root in him.
Though Cheon Hui had maintained an imperturbable composure even while displaying those extraordinary martial prowess, one could never be certain.
He was still a young man of vigorous blood.
He could not help but care about the reception.
Especially since he had recently accomplished so much and gained considerable renown.
Such a cold welcome might disappoint him.
‘I hope he isn’t too disheartened.’
He studied Cheon Hui’s face with concern.
Yet such worry soon melted away like snow in spring.
“Yawn. When will we arrive?”
Cheon Hui was exhaling a bored yawn.
Whether the reception was solemn or not seemed utterly beneath his notice.
An air almost of desirelessness.
‘Needless worry.’
Yuk Won nearly laughed despite himself.
Cheon Hui acted exactly as he always did, making the very concern feel absurd.
As though he paid no mind whatsoever to worldly judgment.
He seemed almost like an immortal sage.
‘He is beyond my measure.’
Yuk Won withdrew his gaze from Cheon Hui.
The man was beyond his capacity to comprehend.
‘Huashan Sect…….’
In a fleeting moment, he recalled Huashan, which he had visited long ago during his time in the Gangho.
Towering cliffs and treacherous peaks.
A mountain that made the heart dizzy merely to behold.
Much like gazing upon Cheon Hui before him.
‘Envious.’
The thought came unbidden.
Surely not he alone harbored such a feeling.
All who had glimpsed Cheon Hui’s true nature would think the same.
‘Or perhaps it is because he is of Huashan Sect that he was cultivated in this manner…….’
He reconsidered his thoughts.
No matter how extraordinary one’s talent, a person’s future could be shaped entirely by those who nurtured them.
‘The sect produced the Huashan Divine Sword before the Maehwa Sword Association.’
His head gave a slight nod.
Huashan clearly possessed something extraordinary.
Without it, producing not only the Huashan Divine Sword but then immediately raising such an exceptional later generation master as Cheon Hui would be impossible.
‘……Once this war ends, I must visit Huashan Sect.’
He concluded his thoughts thus.
Of course, he was not entirely mistaken.
Though the truth differed slightly.
Rather than receiving instruction, Cheon Hui was in fact the one teaching them.
Meanwhile, Cheon Hui’s hands itched.
‘I wish I could polish my martial arts.’
A new understanding, gained after so long, rekindled the passion in his martial practice that had begun to wither.
‘If I could meld all the martial arts in my mind into one, what would happen if I succeeded in completing it?’
Countless martial arts swirled within his mind, mingling together.
They were beyond count.
The space they occupied was vast as a great sea.
For an ordinary person, organizing them would be impossible, yet Cheon Hui turned his thoughts rapidly, systematizing them one by one.
The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.
The present moment brought him profound joy.
Not only did he witness martial techniques he had never seen before, but he also engaged in successive duels with masters.
For a man who had fallen into solitude three hundred years ago, it was an exhilaration beyond measure.
His joy could not be expressed in words.
As he recalled the Great Law that had given him this new life, and smiled,
Thud!
the carriage lurched to an abrupt halt.
“What’s happened?”
Hyeop Wi Dae Ju asked, peering ahead.
But the answer came not from the Pama Force member sitting on the driver’s bench, but from beside the carriage.
“My apologies. I had an urgent message to relay, and I took the liberty of stopping you.”
Hyeop Wi Dae Ju gazed out the window.
There stood a youth in pristine white martial robes, head bowed.
When he lifted his face again, urgency etched itself across his features.
Seeing that expression, Hyeop Wi Dae Ju understood the matter was grave and spoke.
“What is this message?”
“The strategist has instructed that you and Master Yuk Won attend the Murim Alliance Council the moment you arrive at the headquarters.”
At those words, both Yuk Won and Hyeop Wi Dae Ju’s brows creased sharply.
It was an abrupt summons.
Concern welled up in them.
For them to be called to the Murim Alliance Council on their return journey itself meant something grave had occurred.
Hyeop Wi Dae Ju and Yuk Won exchanged glances.
Soon they descended from the carriage.
“I’ll visit you later.”
“See you soon.”
After offering their farewells to Cheon Hui, they hastened away at once.
Every moment counted.
As the two departed,
“What’s happened?”
“Suddenly what—”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Hyeop Wi Dae Ju and Yuk Won, who had only just returned and entered the Murim Alliance headquarters, had suddenly rushed off somewhere, leaving everyone bewildered.
As the others who had entered with them began to panic,
“Master of the Maehwa Sword Association.”
The youth called out to Cheon Hui and approached.
Standing in the wide-open carriage door, he looked at Cheon Hui with a tense expression.
After composing himself, he spoke.
His tone was solemn.
“The strategist has also entrusted me with a separate message for you.”
“What is it?”
Cheon Hui asked indifferently.
The youth, unprepared for such a response, faltered slightly, but quickly steadied himself and spoke calmly.
“Regarding the merits you have accumulated this time, he will offer commendation as promised. He requests that you visit him after the council concludes.”
In that instant, Cheon Hui’s eyes blazed with light.
‘I achieved this faster than I expected.’
His lips curved into a smile.
He had accepted the Myeoljjeol Corps and carried out the mission for one purpose alone.
The Secret Heavenly Library.
To gain entry there.
Cheon Hui then looked at the youth and asked,
“Where should I go?”
“The place he has summoned you to is—”
* * *
The Grand Council Hall of the Murim Alliance.
Fourteen martial artists sat around a circular table in heated discussion.
“I hear the Dragon Master sustained life-threatening injuries.”
“It seems Ok Gi Rin executed his task flawlessly without any casualties.”
“The Steel Blood Corps suffered wounds, it’s said—”
“What can be done? The enemies they faced were not ordinary sects.”
“What of the Jeom Chang Sect? I heard that the Kite, the most vicious of the Seven Luminous Immortals, led his subordinates there—”
“Perhaps—”
Various accounts came to light.
There was no way around it.
Across All Under Heaven, fighting continued to break out. Where good news emerged, ill tidings followed just as swiftly.
Yet among the clamorous assembly, one figure stood apart—arms crossed, expression clouded, muttering complaints to himself.
It was Hyeon Do.
“Summoning me here, of all days.”
His mood had soured considerably.
Today was the day Cheon Hui would return to the Murim Alliance after flawlessly completing his mission. He ought to have rushed off to embrace him, yet this urgent summons had kept them apart.
It sat poorly with him.
“Tsk, tsk—brighten that face of yours. You should count yourself fortunate. Look there, if you will.”
Yong Ju Gae, noticing Hyeon Do’s displeasure, gestured with a meaningful glance from where he stood nearby.
It was Song Baek of the Jeom Chang Sect.
He sat sprawled across a chair, his back against its frame, his eyes glazed and distant.
In the war against Sa Hyuk Ryeon, the Jeom Chang Sect had suffered the gravest losses.
In truth, it was hardly surprising.
Among the Nine Factions and One Gang, was not Jeom Chang the southernmost sect?
“……My apologies.”
Hyeon Do straightened his expression at once.
This was no occasion for petulance.
The very survival of the Murim Alliance hung in the balance.
“The situation grows grimmer by the hour.”
Yong Ju Gae observed those gathered and spoke quietly.
Most wore forced smiles, attempting to project optimism, yet fine fractures marked every face.
The war had reached a fever pitch.
With so many already wounded and losses mounting, anxiety had seeped into the hearts of those who remained.
“If only we had someone to anchor us.”
He murmured the words softly.
In times of upheaval as grave as this, what mattered most was a figure—someone who could serve as the steadfast center.
But the Alliance Master now dwelled in seclusion…….
‘What in the world is he doing, hidden away like that?’
As he contemplated the secluded Alliance Master and began to scratch his head with a weary sigh,
The door swung open with a creak.
And through it stepped Je Gal Goong, moving with unhurried confidence.
“At last he comes.”
“You’re late,” several remarked.
Yet Je Gal Goong did not answer them. Instead, he stopped abruptly mid-stride.
Everyone’s brows furrowed at this oddity.
Something was amiss.
Ordinarily, he would have taken the head seat and begun his report at once.
But instead, he positioned himself beside the high seat.
As if attending to it.
At this sequence of movements, all present went rigid.
A disquiet had seized them—something felt terribly wrong.
In unison, their bodies tensed, and their heads snapped sharply toward the entrance.
And in that instant—
Step. Step.
Footfalls sounded from the doorway.
They were measured. Soft.
Yet the group felt their forms stiffen with tension, teeth grinding on lips.
There was something weighty, almost oppressive, in that sound.
‘Surely not?’
‘That presence……’
Simultaneously, the memory of one man’s station struck like a hammer against their minds.
As they stared blankly toward the door,
Step. Step.
The footsteps drew steadily closer.
And then, from out of the darkness, a figure emerged.
Soft sunlight fell across him.

A middle-aged man with long, shimmering hair bound up in a topknot.
Everyone’s eyes went wide.
Their mouths fell open.
“The Alliance Master…….”
Someone whispered abruptly.
It was a very soft voice.
Yet that whisper hung thick in the quiet Grand Council Hall, pressing down on the hearts of those seated as if squeezed in a fist.
Shock and bewilderment rippled through them.
For eight years he had been in complete seclusion.
And now he had appeared without warning.
It was utterly unexpected.
As everyone sat dumbstruck, unable to speak, watching him in silence—
He turned.
The Alliance Master’s gaze swept across those assembled, meeting each pair of eyes.
One by one, as if carving their faces into memory.
Those watching swallowed hard.
His eyes were suffocating in their intensity.
Then.
“Alliance Master.”
Je Gal Goong called out to him.
At that call, the Alliance Master withdrew his gaze from the others and approached the seat of honor.
He settled into it with fluid grace.
The gesture seemed entirely natural, as if it could be no other way.
As though he had been born an absolute sovereign.
Those watching felt their heads bowing of their own accord.
Seated now in the place of honor, the Alliance Master released a cold, piercing light from his eyes as his lips parted.
“It has been long.”

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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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