Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 315

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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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315
Fire
Seol Geom was thoroughly bewildered by the situation unfolding before him.
He had deliberately gathered some of the Murim Alliance’s core members who had taken an interest in Cheon Hui, the leader of the Myeoljjeol Corps, and escorted them to the Pavilion.
As Cheon Hui’s reputation soared without limit, he’d meant to expand his connections accordingly.
But his plan had gone completely awry from the start.
‘Everything’s gotten tangled.’
A deep crease formed between Seol Geom’s brows.
He had meant to show these guests nothing but the finest face of Cheon Hui and the Myeoljjeol Corps.
And yet, what was this spectacle before him?
The first sight that greeted him was Cheon Hui standing alone and scattered disciples of the Later Generation Masters lying prone on the ground.
And among those sprawled on the floor were several disciples belonging to the sects he had brought today.
“Segun!”
When Gok Pyeong saw that Yuk Se Gon, a disciple of Konglun, had fallen, he rushed over and helped him to his feet.
“Are you—are you alright?”
Yuk Se Gon, having barely regained consciousness, met Gok Pyeong’s eyes and spoke with a groan.
“…Senior?”
“What in the world happened to you?”
At the question, Yuk Se Gon bit his lip hard and shook his head.
“Nothing… nothing happened.”
Gok Pyeong’s eyes narrowed.
It was an unconvincing answer.
For “nothing” to have occurred, Yuk Se Gon’s condition looked far too poor.
And beside him, wasn’t Cheol Ho sprawled out on the ground, foam flecking his lips?
“You can speak freely. What happened?”
“We merely engaged in a martial match.”
“A martial match?”
Meanwhile, observing the current state of affairs, Seol Geom’s heart burned with dread.
The situation was thoroughly awkward.
Soon he gripped the folding fan in his hand tightly and strode toward Cheon Hui, who was regarding him with a crooked smile, and opened his mouth.
“How did this come to pass?”
Cheon Hui met Seol Geom’s anxious gaze and hung his wooden sword across his shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
Cheon Hui replied with his eyes downcast.
He seemed utterly composed and confident.
For a moment Seol Geom felt a surge of emotion, but he suppressed it and spoke again.
“Why are the members of the Myeoljjeol Corps and the Daoist masters of Huashan lying on the ground…?”
“Oh, that?”
When Cheon Hui glanced at the fallen Later Generation Masters and seemed to understand what Seol Geom meant, he immediately opened his mouth.
In a tone of little consequence.
“We simply had a martial match.”
Upon hearing Cheon Hui’s answer, Seol Geom pressed his folding fan against his deepening frown.
The moment he heard the words “martial match,” the situation became clear.
Cheon Hui was a master of a different caliber entirely.
That was why he could produce such a result even when facing so many opponents.
But.
“How in the world did you conduct a martial match to reach this state…?”
He muttered in a tone of utter bewilderment.
For what lay before him to be called an ordinary martial match, the condition of those who had fallen seemed far too grave.
Some had foam at their lips, while others lay trembling violently on their bellies.
Moreover, with Cheon Hui’s martial prowess, he could have matched himself to his opponents—yet from the look of things, he seemed to have displayed his full power instead.
It was then.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
A nun approached with a Buddha Call, her voice ringing out.
It was So Yeon, an elder of the Ami Sect.
She drew near to Cheon Hui and brought her two hands together in reverent palms.
“It is joyful to meet you thus. This humble nun is So Yeon of Ami.”
Her eyes shone brightly.
“We are grateful that you saved our sect.”
She then offered a deep bow of gratitude.
When she first witnessed this situation, she too was taken aback—but only for a moment.
For her, there existed only gratitude.
And no wonder: who was Cheon Hui?
He was the very benefactor who had saved the Ami Sect.
At So Yeon’s heartfelt thanks, Cheon Hui shrugged and replied.
“I was only doing my duty.”
His words were matter-of-fact.
Yet in the eyes of So Yeon who heard them, emotion rippled like waves across still water.
She had heard news through the Murim Alliance, and before that, through a Communication Talisman to the Sect Master, she’d been told that Cheon Hui’s contribution to the Ami Sect’s safety had been over eighty percent.
Yet now this very benefactor spoke of it as though it were nothing much.
The vessel one carries makes all the difference.
‘Truly a great hero.’
So Yeon released her palms together and stepped back.
Then she uttered something shocking.
“Should the Little Cooperation Master or our sect ever have need of assistance, speak the word at any time. The Sect Master herself pledged full support for you.”
In that instant, those nearby could not hide their shock.
The Ami Sect had long kept itself apart from the Nine Factions and One Gang—save only Sorim, its fellow Buddhist order—maintaining no deep ties with others.
Yet now that very Ami Sect had declared itself in full support of Cheon Hui.
It was no ordinary matter.
It was as good as the Ami Sect proclaiming it would aid Huashan henceforth.
But unlike those around him, Cheon Hui opened his mouth with an expression of perfect composure.
“I’ll let you know if I need anything later.”
So Yeon smiled faintly.
“Very well.”
With that, she turned away cleanly, without hesitation or lingering doubt.
She had come solely to convey this message, after all, and there was nothing more to say.
For her, this was enough.
As she receded into the distance.
“Leader of the Myeoljjeol Corps!”
Suddenly a powerful shout rang out.
Turning his head, he saw Gok Pyeong striding toward him with the force of a charging bull.
His face was flushed with urgency.
“Elder Gok Pyeong, please calm yourself……”
Seol Geom, startled, stepped forward to intervene.
“Out of my way.”
But it was no use.
Gok Pyeong pushed past him, took his place before Cheon Hui, and pointed with his index finger at Yuk Se Gon.
Then his voice came sharp and cutting.
“Was it you who did that?”
“Sir!”
In that moment, Yuk Se Gon cried out urgently.
His face had already flushed deep red, like a ripe persimmon.
He felt the same shame a child experiences when a parent wades into a schoolyard quarrel.
Then a calm voice emerged.
From Cheon Hui’s lips.
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t that excessive?”
“Pardon?”
Cheon Hui replied as though baffled.
Excessive? Him?
That was absurd.
Gok Pyeong, seeing Cheon Hui’s reaction, wrinkled his nose and immediately added:
“These are prized disciples from their respective sects. With your skill, surely you could have held back, couldn’t you?”
“Held back……”
Cheon Hui tilted his head and turned to Yuk Se Gon, who had drawn near and now stood shifting anxiously, embarrassed.
“What do you think? Should I have held back?”
Cheon Hui’s eyes turned cold and flat.
“Gasp……!”
Yuk Se Gon felt something in that gaze and hastily shook his head.
“N-no, sir.”
Cheon Hui erased the coldness from his eyes as he heard Yuk Se Gon’s answer, turning his gaze back to Gok Pyeong.
“But you say that side is fine?”
Gok Pyeong’s eyes narrowed.
“However, leaving such injuries unattended in the current state of war is…….”
“What? You know this perfectly well, yet you speak as if you don’t.”
Cheon Hui cut his words short.
“Since we’re at war, shouldn’t we conduct Sparring even more aggressively, as if it were real combat?”
Cheon Hui laughed coolly as he spoke.
“If you’re truly concerned for those two, shouldn’t you actually welcome such realistic Sparring?”
…….
Gok Pyeong fell silent.
Because what was said was sound reasoning.
And in that moment.
“Amitabha Buddha. Your words are right.”
Won Jong Dae Sa, who had drawn near, spoke.
“Sparring like real combat will prove invaluable in actual situations down the road.”
“Now that’s someone worth talking to.”
At Cheon Hui’s lighthearted remark, Seol Geom was startled once more.
Won Jong Dae Sa was an elder of Sorim.
Moreover, he was a figure who had once stood at the very center of the Orthodox Sects, his reputation towering.
Yet such a casual manner of speaking.
But contrary to Seol Geom’s concern, Won Jong Dae Sa responded to Cheon Hui’s casual tone with a gentle, affectionate smile.
“It’s fortunate that we understand each other.”
Won Jong Dae Sa looked at Cheon Hui and spoke with proper respect.
“I am called Won Jong Dae Sa.”
“I’m Cheon Hui.”
At Cheon Hui’s simple reply, Won Jong Dae Sa’s smile soon faded, and he spoke in a low voice.
“The Little Cooperation Master is somewhat different from the rumors.”
“Rumors aren’t everything.”
Cheon Hui spoke without concern.
Rumors were, in the end, merely rumors.
To truly know a person, one had to meet them directly, see them, and feel them for oneself.
Yet Won Jong Dae Sa, hearing words that were obvious to Cheon Hui, seemed taken aback, his eyes widening slightly.
‘Remarkable for one so young.’
It was not easy for anyone to dismiss rumors as mere gossip.
Those floating words had a way of shaking people.
But this Cheon Hui before him treated rumors as nothing but rumors.
“I hear you once visited Sorim before.”
“I had a connection in the past.”
“That too, I heard all from my teacher.”
Won Jong Dae Sa nodded.
He was quiet for a moment, studying Cheon Hui intently, then held back a smile.
“Ah, I would like to have a more detailed conversation with the Little Cooperation Master another time.”
“A more detailed conversation?”
“Do you dislike it?”
“Yes.”
In that instant, save for Won Jong Dae Sa, Seol Geom, Cheol Su Bi Geom, and even Gok Pyeong were startled, watching Won Jong Dae Sa’s expression warily.
Won Jong Dae Sa held a position of considerable rank even within the current Murim Alliance.
To speak to such a person in that manner.
Everyone anxiously wondered if Won Jong Dae Sa might take offense.
Ha.
Contrary to their thoughts, Won Jong Dae Sa burst into laughter, as if greatly amused.
“An interesting Little Cooperation Master indeed.”
He was experiencing an unfamiliar emotion.
When was the last time someone had spoken to him in such a manner?
With a faint smile, he opened his mouth.
“Then what must one do to earn a conversation with me?”
“If you come next time bringing something instead of empty hands, that would be acceptable.”
Won Jong Dae Sa’s eyes curved upward with amusement.
“It seems there is something you desire.”
Cheon Hui let out a soft chuckle.
“That’s right.”
“What is it?”
At the question, Cheon Hui’s gaze sharpened.
Opening his eyes with their faint crimson glint, Cheon Hui swept his vision across Won Jong Dae Sa’s Lower Dantian.
A small golden light buried in darkness.
And Cheon Hui knew.
That small golden light possessed a Dharma Power far brighter and more radiant than that of the Nahan Seung monks he’d met during his visit to Sorim.
“I’d very much like to see the Highest Great Power—Sorim’s supreme secret art.”
Won Jong Dae Sa let out a hollow laugh.
The meaning behind those words was singular.
“You’re asking Bindu to have a Sparring match with you.”
“That’s so.”
Won Jong Dae Sa deliberated for a moment.
It was a Sparring match with much to lose.
If he were defeated, Sorim’s honor could be compromised.
But his hesitation did not last long.
“Very well.”
Won Jong Dae Sa spoke softly.
“But would it be possible to conduct the match without anyone knowing?”
Cheon Hui grinned.
He’d grasped his intent immediately.
‘He wants to hide the outcome.’
Cheon Hui nodded and opened his mouth.
“Of course.”
Whether the outcome was hidden or revealed didn’t matter to him.
All he needed was to witness the Highest Great Power.
“Hah, refreshingly honest.”
Won Jong Dae Sa laughed with satisfaction.
“Then I shall return another time.”
With that, he turned to leave.
Once Won Jong Dae Sa had departed the Pavilion, Cheol Su Bi Geom and Gok Pyeong watched his retreating form, shook their heads, and spoke.
“I am Cheol Su Bi Geom.”
“I am Gok Pyeong of the Konglun Sect.”
* * *
Four days passed.
During that time, Cheon Hui continued to conduct Sparring matches against the Myeoljjeol Corps and the Hwa Ryeong Dan.
“Hah!”
“Keep your wits about you.”
And with each match, Cheon Hui wielded his Wooden Sword without pause.
It was not only the sword.
His mouth moved ceaselessly too, offering counsel to those he faced.
“Channel your Internal Force through the Yongcheon Acupoint. And you—move your feet one step further from there.”
At first, the Myeoljjeol Corps members had harbored doubts about Cheon Hui’s advice.
How could he grasp their martial techniques so precisely and perceive their patterns so clearly?
But as the matches continued, they had no opportunity to dwell on such questions.
Their minds held only one thought.
‘We must defend!’
Just as Cheon Hui was repeatedly striking the Myeoljjeol Corps and Hwa Ryeong Dan members with his Wooden Sword,
The great doors of the Pavilion suddenly swung wide open.
And through the widened entrance, a neat and refined-looking handsome youth appeared.
At the arrival of the handsome youth dressed in a green and white Martial Robe suggestive of the Supreme Ultimate symbol, several Myeoljjeol Corps members reacted immediately.
“Ok Gi Rin…?”
“Why is the Radiance Lesser Cooperator here…?”
At that moment, Ok Gi Rin, who had opened the door and surveyed his surroundings, spotted Cheon Hui at the center of the Training Grounds and broke into a bright smile.
“Cheon Hui, Little Cooperation Master!”
Calling out to Cheon Hui as if in greeting, he rushed forward and came to stand before him.
Then he brought his palms together respectfully.
“Amitabha Buddha. It has been a while.”

Cheon Hui tilted his head, watching Ok Gi Rin offer a respectful bow with a smile, and opened his mouth to speak.
“What brings you here?”
Ok Gi Rin seemed momentarily taken aback by the blunt question without preamble, but he maintained his composure and replied with a smile.
“It seems you haven’t heard yet.”
Ok Gi Rin steadied his breathing and continued.
“I came to greet you properly, since we’ll be working together on a mission.”

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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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