Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 320

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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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320
Fire
“……Little Master?”
Ok Gi Rin looked up at Cheon Hui.
His eyes widened with a flicker of surprise.
Cheon Hui stood inches away, regarding him with open interest.
Close enough that Ok Gi Rin could feel his breath.
Ok Gi Rin’s pupils trembled.
His eyes shook as if struck by an earthquake, and unmistakable agitation rippled through them.
For him, this was deeply disconcerting.
‘I didn’t sense his presence until he was this close…….’
His Qi Perception was sharp.
Especially after unfolding his sword forms, he’d maintained control over a radius of roughly fifty paces.
Yet he’d sensed nothing.
Nothing as Cheon Hui approached.
And this was no trivial matter of merely failing to notice his approach.
Who was he?
A disciple of the Wudang Sect.
Which meant he was a martial artist of the Kangho.
And the Kangho was a world of blades and mountains where death could come at any moment, in any place.
Knowing this well, Ok Gi Rin could not help but feel a chill.
‘If Little Master had been an enemy…….’
His back grew clammy.
Sweat had broken out on his skin, beading up and gradually soaking through his Sect Robe.
The weather was cold, yet his body burned.
At the same time, a new confusion surfaced in his mind.
‘But why suddenly?’
Spying on another’s martial training was a taboo in the Kangho.
So even if one witnessed it, one typically hid the fact.
Yet Cheon Hui had approached instead.
Without concealing that he’d been watching.
Nor was that all.
When he’d first requested conversation, Cheon Hui had curtly refused—yet now he not only initiated dialogue but displayed goodwill?
Ok Gi Rin could not fathom his intent.
“Since when have you been watching, sir?”
Ok Gi Rin asked, his expression hardening.
Seeing the stern look replace Ok Gi Rin’s usual easy smile, Cheon Hui’s grin only deepened.
‘Not entirely simple-minded, then.’
The moment Ok Gi Rin heard his own voice, he’d already assumed a defensive stance.
Whether consciously or not, his posture readied him to strike at any instant.
Cheon Hui, sensing the Sword Qi charged through Ok Gi Rin’s blade, stared at him and spoke.
“Since you woke from sleep.”
A direct answer to his question.
The voice rode the wind, brushing past Ok Gi Rin as it departed.
At hearing this, Ok Gi Rin’s brow twitched slightly.
Cheon Hui delivered this admission—that he’d watched from the beginning—without a hint of apology or embarrassment.
‘An unfathomable man.’
Just as Ok Gi Rin’s thoughts deepened, it happened.
“So what will you do about it?”
The words had barely left his lips when—
Whoosh—
Cheon Hui thrust his face abruptly forward.
“Tch!”
Startled by Cheon Hui’s suddenly looming face, Ok Gi Rin quickly withdrew his right foot.
His hand moved immediately after.
Crack!
It was a purely instinctive strike.
His hand shot upward from below, rushing toward Cheon Hui’s jaw.
It happened in an instant.
‘Ah!’
Ok Gi Rin realized his mistake too late.
His arm had extended of its own accord in an instinctive thrust, and he’d already committed halfway through.
‘What was I doing?’
He tried to withdraw his hand urgently.
But pulling back a Taegeuk Hand Technique once unleashed was no simple matter.
Crack—
His muscles cried out in protest.
“Quite skillful.”
A soft voice brushed against his ear.
And at that same moment.
Snap.
The Taegeuk Hand Technique stopped dead in its tracks.
Cheon Hui’s hand had seized his wrist.
“How…?”
Ok Gi Rin stared in bewilderment at the pale, delicate hand that had captured his wrist mid-technique.
He hadn’t even seen the movement.
The instant he felt something touch his wrist, he looked down—and found himself already caught.
“That was a decent counter.”
Cheon Hui released his wrist and spoke.
‘So this is why he’s called one of the Three Talents of All Under Heaven.’
Though the technique had been hastily deployed, the stance was flawless, and the internal energy control was superb.
It was cleaner than anything the Myeoljol Dae could produce.
Among the Later Generation Masters of his age, perhaps only Cheon Yong and Black Night, the other Two Talents of All Under Heaven, could rival him.
‘Yet none of Huashan’s newer disciples could keep pace with him.’
He was reflecting on how rapidly the Huashan disciples’ skills had improved of late, a hint of regret touching his lips, when—
“Oh!”
Ok Gi Rin came to his senses belatedly.
He hastily withdrew his hand and bowed deeply to Cheon Hui.
His apology spilled out.
“Amitabha Buddha. My sincere apologies. When you appeared so suddenly, I reacted purely on instinct….”
“Hmm? Is that something to apologize for?”
Cheon Hui tilted his head slightly and continued.
“For a martial artist, it’s only natural.”
His tone was remarkably calm.
In his past life, when enemies surrounded him from all sides, such reflexive counters seemed perfectly ordinary.
Even now, wasn’t he constantly extending his Qi Perception, ready to respond to threats at any moment?
‘How else can one know who might betray you or when?’
Yet Ok Gi Rin, unaware of these thoughts, was struck by such boldness.
‘So this is why he’s called the Godly Martial Artist.’
One careless mistake could have sparked factional strife between sects—a grave incident indeed.
Yet he had let it pass without concern.
As though it were nothing at all.
Truly the bearing of a sage.
Then Cheon Hui spoke again.
“But now I’d like to hear your answer to my earlier question.”
“An answer to…?”
“I asked if you knew where the problem lay.”
Ok Gi Rin stiffened.
It was a question he’d momentarily forgotten.
At the same time, his brow furrowed slightly.
Truth be told, he didn’t have much faith in what Cheon Hui was saying.
Of course, he knew the man was exceptional.
The single technique he’d just displayed was proof enough of his extraordinary martial prowess.
But.
‘This is a different matter entirely.’
Ok Gi Rin’s eyes grew grave.
The swordsmanship he had mastered was no ordinary technique—it was the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom.
The depth of such martial study was so profound that even his master, though he had reached the age of understanding and had entered its gateway, found it difficult to fully comprehend.
‘Had it not been for my master, I myself would never have gained entry to such a sword art.’
He took pride in his own Heavenly Fortune.
Of course, his talent was exceptional.
The Wudang Sect wouldn’t have given him one of the two Taecheong Pills they possessed otherwise.
But his talent blooming fully wasn’t due to his own ability—it was largely thanks to his master’s strength.
His master, Tae Geuk Geom Je, had entered the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom at a late age for the sake of his disciple, studied it himself, and unlocked the secrets easily for him.
Without his master’s help, he too would have found it nearly impossible to enter the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom.
That was how difficult the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom was.
And even his master had reached no conclusion about the problem now.
Yet now Cheon Hui before him claimed to understand the issue—how could he believe it?
“Did you recognize what sword technique Bindo deployed, Master Do Jang?”
He shifted the conversation deliberately, asking the question.
His plan was to move past it if Cheon Hui said no.
But that plan fell apart at once.
“It’s the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom.”
……!
Ok Gi Rin’s eyes widened.
It was an unbelievable answer.
In the long history of the Wudang Sect, the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom had been revealed to the world only a handful of times.
His master, Tae Geuk Geom Je, had never deployed the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom in Kangho, and he himself had never said he’d learned it from anyone else.
Yet this man had recognized it.
His bewilderment was beyond words.
“How could you possibly……?”
“Isn’t the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom the only Wudang sword technique centered on the Later Strike First principle where the form of each movement keeps changing?”
Cheon Hui spoke about the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom fluently, as though it were obvious.
He sounded like a master orator.
It made sense—the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom was a sword technique he had always wanted to see, even in his past life.
‘One of the rarest absolute sword arts under heaven.’
Cheon Hui’s eyes half-closed, growing distant.
The gaze that emerged resembled the glow of a dimly gathering sunset.
It was because the inner power of the Plum Blossom Divine Art flowed into his eyes, casting an ethereal light.
From his past life until now, he had been obsessed with martial studies.
There was no way he would let this chance to witness the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom slip away.
Ok Gi Rin swallowed hard.
“How did you come to know that about the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom?”
“That’s…….”
Cheon Hui started to speak, then paused briefly.
In truth, he had learned about the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom through records at the Tianma Library and the Records of Martial Arts Ranking of the Martial World he’d seen in Bima’s Secret Chamber.
But mentioning either was problematic.
The Tianma Library was obviously out of the question, and if he mentioned the Records of Martial Arts Ranking, it would only destroy any credibility he’d built.
“I saw it in an old text at Huashan.”
Cheon Hui spoke vaguely.
It was somewhat ambiguous, but he had no better answer than that.
“An old text, you say……?”
Ok Gi Rin paused briefly at the unclear response, but soon accepted it.
The Huashan Sect had belonged to the Nine Factions and One Gang alongside the Wudang Sect since ancient times.
Records might well have survived there.
But the answer still fell short of building genuine trust in Cheon Hui.
“I can clearly feel and see that you possess outstanding martial prowess. But to identify a problem with a sword technique from records alone……is nearly impossible.”
Ok Gi Rin spoke, looking at Cheon Hui.
His voice was dry as a winter wind.
Since the simple evasion was becoming complicated, he chose to speak plainly.
“Martial arts are achieved through the accumulation of years of practice. I have poured half my life into mastering this Taegeuk Hyae-Geom. Yet you say you recognized its flaws after seeing it only once……Would you trust such a thing if you were in my position?”
“Hmm, if I were me, I think I’d listen regardless of whether I believed it or not.”
Cheon Hui said it casually.
When it came to discussing martial studies, he had no intention of refusing.
If anything, he found it intriguing.
…….
Ok Gi Rin’s eyes widened.
It was a bold statement.
He was already a man of considerable martial prowess. Yet he said he would listen to someone’s counsel—that was what his words meant.
Such a thing was not easy.
Especially for a true master, it was even more so.
The moment he thought this, shame washed over him.
Here was a master willing to hear others’ counsel, yet he’d offered criticism without even listening to the advice, without understanding the martial arts involved.
He wanted to disappear into a mouse hole.
Soon he looked directly at Cheon Hui.
His face, flushed with embarrassment, remained unguarded.
“……Then, what is the problem you’ve identified, Young Master Do?”
“First, let me ask you something.”
Cheon Hui met his gaze and posed the question.
“It seems the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom has no fixed form or posture to its techniques—is that correct?”
Surprise flickered in Ok Gi Rin’s eyes.
The observation was accurate.
The Taegeuk Hyae-Geom possessed no prescribed sequence of forms, no set stances.
Sword Intent.
It was purely the intent behind the technique that one learned and deployed with perfect freedom—that was the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom.
And that freedom was precisely what made it so difficult.
“That’s correct.”
“I thought so.”
Cheon Hui let out a soft chuckle.
“The problem is simple.”
Then Cheon Hui’s voice came through.
Ok Gi Rin immediately turned his full attention to listen.
“You’re thinking too much.”
“Pardon?”
Ok Gi Rin’s bewilderment showed plainly.
It was an answer he’d never anticipated.
“The Taegeuk represents harmony, as you know.”
Cheon Hui spoke the definition of Taegeuk that anyone would understand, then tightened his lips.
“But you think too much, and so the harmony of mind and body has collapsed.”
“Harmony of mind and body?”
Ok Gi Rin’s brow furrowed deeper.
He couldn’t grasp it.
Harmony of mind and body—what did that mean?
“In other words, you’re only thinking of Sword Intent as you strike, and your body can’t keep pace.”
“……So it’s a matter of excess being as bad as deficiency.”
Ok Gi Rin murmured in reply and fell silent, lost in thought.
It was a problem he’d never considered.
That his understanding had grown too sharp for his body to follow—who would have thought such a thing possible?
“Is there a way to resolve it?”
Ok Gi Rin asked cautiously.
It seemed that if Cheon Hui had uncovered the problem, he would surely know the solution as well.
“There is.”
“What is it?”
To that question, Cheon Hui met his eyes directly and parted his lips.
“Forget it.”
The words fell in a low tone.
As if infused with inner power, the words struck Ok Gi Rin’s ears with weight.
“Erase it all from your mind—the forms, the techniques, everything.”
“What do you mean by that……?”
Ok Gi Rin’s brow creased.
He couldn’t understand.
Forget?
Then wouldn’t all the years spent learning the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom amount to wasted time?
“With your current skill, it’s impossible to pour all the Sword Intent of the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom into each strike and manifest it fully.”
Cheon Hui’s words were cutting and sharp.
Like a blade honed to a razored edge.
And Ok Gi Rin couldn’t refute them.
Wasn’t it true that right now he couldn’t properly execute the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom?
Cheon Hui continued speaking as he watched Ok Gi Rin fall silent.
“Trying to manifest the Sword Intent of the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom at your current level does you no good, so discard what needs to be discarded.”
“But what good is martial prowess if you don’t pour true intent into it…….”
“You said martial arts are the work of years. All that practice built up over time—surely your body hasn’t forgotten it?”
Cheon Hui turned Ok Gi Rin’s own words back on him, twisting his mouth slightly.
“It’ll move of its own accord. The way you attacked just now, unconsciously.”
…….
At that, Ok Gi Rin lowered his gaze and stared at his sword in silence.
Forget. And release what must be released.
Your body remembers, so it will move on its own.
Cheon Hui’s words pierced his chest like arrows.
Especially that phrase—release what must be released—sank deeper than any other.
He wanted to hold onto everything.
The martial arts. His followers.
But reality was cruel.
The Taegeuk Hyae-Geom still wouldn’t flow freely from his hands, and many of his subordinates had to slip from his grasp.
‘My vessel now is too small to contain it all.’
He closed his eyes gently.
Accepting it brought a measure of peace.
‘Forget. Release.’
Soon he emptied his mind.
Thought, the Taegeuk Hyae-Geom, every stray notion—all of it.
One by one, they all faded until, at last.
Only emptiness remained.
And in that moment.
Lightning.
A flash of thunder split Ok Gi Rin’s mind.
In the same breath, his hand seized the sword.
It was an unconscious motion.
Whoosh—
The blade drew free and moved at once with fluid grace.
The sword danced like a butterfly, scattering beautiful azure light in all directions.
“That wasn’t what I expected.”
Cheon Hui watched Ok Gi Rin dance his sword form with eyes closed, lost in the State of No-Self, then withdrew to sit on a nearby stone.
“Not that it matters.”
Cheon Hui’s lips curved upward.
The goal was one and the same, after all.
To witness this Taegeuk Hyae-Geom properly, right before his eyes.
Cheon Hui’s eyes gleamed with brilliant light.
A power bloomed in his gaze as he swept his eyes across Ok Gi Rin, taking in everything.
Meridians, muscle, inner force—all of it.
Every detail revealed itself to his sight.
And as he absorbed it all, Cheon Hui’s eyes sparkled and he smiled.
“Now let me see what a true Taegeuk Hyae-Geom looks like.”

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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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