Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 319

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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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319
Episode
“Ha ha ha.”
Ok Ki Rin suddenly burst into laughter.
Though he had been refused, he gazed at Cheon Hui with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
It was a smile that seemed to say he understood.
“You’re still keeping your distance, I see. But since we’ll be carrying out this mission together, it wouldn’t hurt to build a little rapport, even if it feels awkward…….”
As Ok Ki Rin continued speaking with good intentions, Cheon Hui cut him off as though annoyed.
“That’s enough. Let’s just go.”
It was a remark that bordered on dismissal.
Only then did Ok Ki Rin realize that Cheon Hui truly had no desire for conversation, and he asked carefully.
“Is there a reason you’re acting this way?”
His expression grew quite solemn.
He wondered if perhaps he had done something thoughtless to offend Cheon Hui.
He waited for an answer.
If he had made a mistake, he was prepared to apologize at once.
At last, Cheon Hui’s lips parted.
But his answer fell completely outside Ok Ki Rin’s expectations.
“I just don’t want to.”
“……I’m sorry?”
At such an absurd response, Ok Ki Rin involuntarily released a deflated breath between his slightly parted lips.
‘He just doesn’t want to? To talk with me?’
His mind wouldn’t quite catch up.
It was something he’d never have anticipated.
In Gangho, generally speaking, unless there was some deep-seated grudge between people, they exchanged pleasantries to foster karmic connection.
Yet here was someone openly declaring his distaste.
Ok Ki Rin, who had stood in stunned silence for a long moment, shook his head as he came back to himself.
“So it’s truly only because of that?”
He asked again by way of confirmation.
“That’s right.”
The answer came back the same.
……
Faced with such resolute words, Ok Ki Rin found himself at a loss for what to say.
He turned his head away and glanced at Cheon Hyang, who walked alongside Cheon Hui.
His look carried the implication: ‘Is what he’s saying actually true?’
Cheon Hyang raised her shoulders wordlessly.
It was a gesture close to affirmation.
At that, Ok Ki Rin shifted his gaze from Cheon Hyang back to Cheon Hui and opened his mouth.
“……I shall call upon you later.”
“There’s no need to come.”
Cheon Hui said it decisively.
He waved his hand in dismissal.
Ok Ki Rin started to say something in response, his lips moving uselessly, but then fell silent again and turned his horse around.
As he began to recede into the distance.
“Is that really alright?”
Cheon Hyang watched Ok Ki Rin’s figure grow smaller and spoke.
Ok Ki Rin was the commander of the Cheonjeong Corps, with whom they would be conducting this mission.
To reject conversation out of mere annoyance—how could she not be concerned?
“You’ll be working together on this mission, so if you create this kind of animosity…….”
“Working together on the mission?”
Cheon Hui cut off Cheon Hyang’s words, speaking as though she’d misunderstood.
“We’re not marching to our doom.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Cheon Hyang tilted her head, puzzled.
She hadn’t grasped his meaning.
At Cheon Hyang’s reaction, Cheon Hui clicked his tongue.
Couldn’t she see what was plainly before her eyes?
His gaze shifted to the Cheonjeong Corps charging forth, kicking up dust on all sides.
Nearly three hundred strong.
They looked like an advancing army.
Yet as Cheon Hui’s eyes swept rapidly across them, a flicker of doubt crossed his gaze.
“A rabble of commoners—no matter how many you gather, they’re all the same.”
That was the extent of Cheon Hui’s assessment.
Outward Splendor, Inner Poverty.
They looked impressive on the surface, but dig deeper and there was nothing of substance underneath.
A few among them possessed decent martial prowess, but their number fell far short of even a hundred.
‘Better to train a small elite force like the Myeoljol Dae, coordinating their movements—that’s what works in real combat.’
Cheon Hui muttered this to himself, his gaze fixed on Ok Ki Rin.
‘This Byeol Dong Dae was assembled in haste, so it seems they accepted everyone who applied…….’
He could grasp something of the man’s position.
The fastest way to strengthen a unit’s power was, after all, to expand its numbers.
But that was clearly a mistake.
The more soldiers in a unit, the more effort required to control them.
Especially in a military formation, unified movement was essential, yet with martial artists, achieving uniformity grew harder as numbers swelled.
‘Half of them will die.’
Cheon Hui’s eyes gleamed with cold certainty.
It was conviction born from experience.
Cheon Hui withdrew his gaze from Ok Ki Rin and the Cheonjeong Corps, then spoke.
“We only need to focus on the mission itself, not what others do.”
“You’re planning to move separately?”
“Yes.”
Cheon Hui answered plainly.
From the start, he had never intended to combine forces with Ok Ki Rin and the Cheonjeong Corps.
“They said we should carry out the mission together, but nothing about moving as one unit, right?”
* * *
Darkness descended upon All Under Heaven.
As starlight and the full moon slowly rose to illuminate the darkness, numerous campfires blazed to life across Plain Field.
The Myeoljol Dae and Cheonjeong Corps.
Having arrived the previous night and ridden nearly the entire day without rest, they had begun to make camp.
Except for those standing watch, nearly everyone had fallen into deep sleep.
Perhaps the exhaustion had reached its peak.
Only the rough, rhythmic breathing of those covered with Pipo Robes as blankets could be heard.
Silence dominated the space around them.
Within that stillness.
“Gasp!”
A figure jolted upright, body convulsing with ragged breath.
It was Ok Ki Rin.
“Huh, huh.”
Sitting up, he exhaled in sharp, labored gasps.
Hot vapor escaped between his lips, then dissipated swiftly into the wind.
“Again?”
Ok Ki Rin muttered softly to himself.
Then he looked up quietly at the sky.
Above the night scattered with moon and stars, the nightmare he had just dreamed remained vivid and clear.
‘Commander! Commander!’
‘Help, gack!’
The icy corpses of his soldiers, the moments when the Cheonjeong Corps was forced to disband under wounds so severe…….
A bitter torment flickered in his eyes as he clenched his lower lip.
Deaths had already reached fifty, and wounded alone—minor injuries not counted—had surpassed a hundred.
And winter had not yet passed.
“It does not come easily.”
He who had been murmuring to himself moved his hand.
Naturally, he grasped the blade beside him—a lifelong companion he always kept near.
His heart eased somewhat.
“Am I wrong to sleep tonight as well?”
He smiled bitterly and rose from where he lay.
This was not the first time he had gone without sleep.
Perhaps his mind was too troubled.
Ever since he had taken command of the Cheonjeong Corps and carried out the mission, he had been plagued by nightmares.
Ok Ki Rin moved his feet with practiced ease.
When his mind wavered like this, only martial arts could steady him.
Walking in this manner, he arrived at a place where reeds grew as high as his waist.
Whiiiii—
A cool breeze passed through and tickled him.
Even though winter had passed, it carried a chill like the bitter north wind and winter snow.
But Ok Ki Rin, whose blood had heated to a fever, found it refreshing instead.
Shhk—
He drew his sword as the wind touched him.
It was a practiced motion.
The blade rose to his chest in an instant, revealing its azure steel.
Ok Ki Rin gazed at his sword in silence.
It was a blade his master had given him when he first ventured into the Gangho, one called Cheong Gwang.
True to its name, the steel reflected the falling full moon in an azure radiance that scattered in all directions.
It was a beautiful display of blue light.
And then.
Ssshhh—
Cheong Gwang left a trailing arc.
The blade had moved.
Raised to his chest, it traced a path from left to right.
Yet the movement was extraordinarily slow.
One might have thought it a dull blade.
After a long arc from left to right, the steel suddenly came to a halt.
Snick—
Only then did the reeds nearby fall severed.
Watching the reeds dance around him, Ok Ki Rin continued moving.
The blade’s path was merely a horizontal line.
Yet with each repetition, the stroke changed subtly in form.
Sometimes it tilted slightly to the side, sometimes it rose an inch higher.
He appeared unfamiliar with the sword he was wielding.
After swinging for some time, at one moment.
Thud—
He suddenly stepped forward with his right foot.
The toe of his leather shoe pressed gently against the grass below, and it rustled softly.
A low sound.
And from that point onward.
Whiiiiii—
A gentle wind was born.
It spiraled from him at its center.
Simultaneously, his blade began to trace a strange pattern.
Down from above, right from left.
Then at some moment he stopped.
A brief pause.
But in the realm of awareness of one who had entered the Sword Dance, that moment stretched long.
Soon Ok Ki Rin steadied his breathing.
As he stimulated his Lower Dantian.
His Internal Force, which had rested quietly until now, responded instantly to his will as if it had already prepared itself from the moment the Sword Dance began.
Internal Energy bloomed throughout his entire being.
Black and white.
Yin and yang.
Opposing forces.
Ok Ki Rin drew those opposing energies into one unified whole, then poured them into his blade.
Flash!
A blue light suffused the night sky.
Sword Qi.
“Let yin and yang guide me to draw one harmonious wheel.”
Ok Ki Rin murmured the incantation that had dwelt in his mind in a low voice, then flowed Cheong Gwang—now cradling Sword Qi—with gentleness.
The blade moved softly, streaming the cascading moonlight, and fell like silk.
Even as he did, Ok Ki Rin never ceased his footwork and spun his body.
Whirrrr—
In one breath his entire frame rotated, and the black and white, yin and yang energies that had bloomed around him swirled together with vigor.
It was mysterious.
Black and white, which seemed never to belong together, merged into one, and soon traced a perfect circle in the empty air.
The Taegeuk.
In that moment, he forgot the turmoil that had occupied his mind and surrendered wholly to the Sword Dance.
From a distance, perched on a boulder, someone watched Ok Ki Rin lost in the dance.
It was Cheon Hui.
Following Ok Ki Rin from the moment he stirred and slipped away, Cheon Hui’s eyes gleamed with intrigue, his lips curving upward.
“A Wudang Sect technique—it’s been a while.”
Cheon Hui watched the Sword Dance unfold, his eyes brightening as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“Wait… that technique is…”
His gaze deepened.
Eyes like an abyss traced Ok Ki Rin’s every movement without missing a single detail.
For a moment.
“The Taegeuk Hyae Sword?”
Cheon Hui’s eyes sparkled like stars.
The Taegeuk Hyae Sword was one of the Jeongchong Eight Great Sword Techniques—a pinnacle sword art.
In his previous life, even the Wudang Sect had scarcely produced anyone who truly mastered it; he had only ever glimpsed it in historical records.
And now, here before him, Ok Ki Rin was wielding it.
‘The Wudang Sect shows promise indeed. For someone so young to even enter the gate of the Taegeuk Hyae Sword—that would have been impossible for all but the most exceptional talents.’
His anticipation was profound.
That one so young had been taught this pinnacle sword art—a technique of which only five masters had ever truly flourished throughout the Wudang Sect’s long history.
“But how disappointing.”
Cheon Hui’s tongue clicked against his teeth as he observed.
The deeper he watched, the more his disappointment grew.
“To wield the pinnacle sword art so… incompletely.”
Ok Ki Rin did not truly grasp the essence of the Taegeuk Hyae Sword.
And as though to confirm this, Cheon Hui sensed something subtle amiss in his movements—a strange fragility.
As if the slightest touch would shatter him.
In that very moment.
Crash!
Ok Ki Rin’s Ki Wave wavered.
At once, he lowered his blade, his brow furrowing in pain.
“…Ugh.”
As though struck, Ok Ki Rin gasped softly, clutching at his chest.
The backlash of uncontained Internal Energy rippled through his entire body.
“Here again…”
He ground his teeth, muttering to himself.
It happened every time.
Whenever he attempted the second half of the Taegeuk Hyae Sword, it fell apart at this same point.
“What’s the problem?”
As he murmured this.
“Want to know what the problem is?”
An unexpected voice cut through the air.
Startled, Ok Ki Rin lifted his head—only to meet the gaze of Cheon Hui, who stood above him with a smirk.

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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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