Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 64

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 64
“So what you’re saying is that Heuk Hyo Sal Ma was found dead on the roadside?”
“I know it sounds unbelievable, but that’s how it is.”
At Hyeon Jin’s words, the fair-faced young man seated across from him—Set Geom—pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple.
The task they’d been given was to eliminate the demon cultivator responsible for the massacre of a village.
But now the situation had taken an unexpected turn.
The creature they’d assumed was merely a minor demon cultivator turned out to be a great demon lord who had once brought a storm of blood to the Namgung Clan and Anhui City in ages past.
“You’re certain that corpse belongs to Heuk Hyo Sal Ma?”
“No doubt about it—he was wielding the Blood Qi Art.”
“Then it must be him.”
Set Geom had no choice but to accept it.
The Blood Qi Art was unknown in Kangho.
Only Heuk Hyo Sal Ma himself, the Namgung Clan, and a handful of figures in the Murim Alliance knew of its existence.
“There was absolutely no one nearby?”
Hyeon Jin nodded firmly.
After discovering Heuk Hyo Sal Ma’s corpse, they had scoured Tongsan thoroughly, but found no trace of anyone else.
“This is quite a troublesome situation indeed.”
Set Geom, his expression troubled, picked up his brush. He then wrote a report on the paper before him in elegant script.
“The death of a great demon lord like Heuk Hyo Sal Ma is beneficial for the Alliance, but since we don’t know who struck him down…”
Murmuring to himself, Set Geom set down the brush with a soft tap.
“You’ve done well. That’s all.”
“What will be done about the mission?”
“I’ll report it as accomplished through the Great Swordmaster’s efforts.”
“But isn’t that a lie?”
“There’s no other way.”
Set Geom’s eyes turned cold as he spoke.
“If we report that some unknown party has already dealt with him instead of the Great Swordmaster, what will others think?”
“Well…”
“Haven’t you noticed how many have grown wary of the True Immortal and the Huashan Sect lately? Wouldn’t it be better to use this as a stepping stone instead?”
Hyeon Jin bit his lip hard.
His conscience pricked at the deception, but Set Geom was right—it was a golden opportunity.
The prestige of having vanquished a great demon lord like Heuk Hyo Sal Ma was not something one could simply claim.
“This will be an excellent outcome for the Great Swordmaster and for Huashan. It will be like adding wings to the rising fame of the Huashan Sect.”
“I understand.”
After Hyeon Jin left some time later, Set Geom—now alone in the room—picked up his brush again and wrote on fresh paper.
―A master has appeared in Tongsan. Intelligence required.
Set Geom folded the message he’d written for the leader of Gae Bang and tucked it into his sleeve before standing.
“Heuk Hyo Sal Ma—this was quite unexpected.”
Set Geom tapped the table with his index finger.
“We brought the body separately, so perhaps it’s wise to pursue a transaction with the Namgung Clan. If so, it would be best to entrust the matter to Hyeon Jin, who has just completed this mission.”
Just as Set Geom was about to issue new orders to the Huashan Sect—
‘I never expected to see the Blood Sect’s martial arts.’
Cheon Hui, having finished his Qi Cultivation Breathing, recalled the old man who had mastered the Blood Sect’s techniques.
‘And he spoke of it so openly at that.’
Cheon Hui found himself nearly clicking his tongue in disbelief.
What manner of place was the Blood Sect?
A closed, esoteric religious sect.
So few knew of their existence that only the Tianma Divine Sect and the Dae Rye Um Sa—long sworn enemies of the sect—were aware of them.
One might think, ‘If that’s the case, there should be no harm in learning the Blood Sect’s martial arts,’ but that would be a grave misconception.
All because of the Dae Rye Um Sa.
Whenever the Blood Sect’s martial arts appeared in the world, the Dae Rye Um Sa would move immediately.
Why the esoteric sect seemed to descend upon them like rabid dogs whenever the Blood Sect stirred remained a mystery.
Like an ancient vendetta.
‘It was convenient enough, though.’
He recalled the mad monks of the Dae Rye Um Sa who had joined in the fray when he’d provoked and crushed the Blood Sect alongside the Tianma Divine Sect.
It was not without reason that the esoteric sect was called mysterious—their martial arts were truly unique.
Arts like the Flexible Body Art that allowed one’s body to stretch or bend, or techniques that bordered on Demonic Art.
Particularly because they had long known of the Blood Sect’s martial arts, their distinctive energy did not shake them.
But something was strange.
The Dae Rye Um Sa had not appeared, even after the old man had mastered the Blood Sect’s martial arts enough to earn a moniker?
If I knew that bastard had mastered the Blood Qi Art, I’d have stepped in.
The question rose unbidden.
‘Or has the Dae Rye Um Sa changed?’
That was the only thought that made sense.
No matter how long the enmity with the Blood Sect had festered, three hundred years had passed since their destruction.
It might well have been forgotten by now.
‘Either way, it hardly matters.’
I let the thought go.
Blood Sect or Dae Rye Um Sa—what did it concern me?
Affairs in the far reaches beyond Zhongyuan hardly warranted my attention.
‘I’m not even the Sect Leader of the Tianma Divine Sect anymore.’
The door burst open just then, and Cheon Yu appeared, calling out to Cheon Hui as he sat on the bed.
“Master! A new task has come up—want to go with me?”
* * *
After the hour of rest, Cheon Hui emerged from the palace pavilion and arrived in the courtyard, where carriages awaited him.
Cheon Yu waved his hand grandly.
“Master, over here.”
Cheon Yu, who had come running in haste, caught sight of Cheon Hui’s sparse luggage and laughed awkwardly.
“I was hoping we could relax together and work on something big, but…….”
Cheon Yu leaned in close, whispering carefully, then gestured behind him with a slight jerk of his chin.
“We’ll have to save that for next time.”
Hyeon Jin approached at that moment.
“What are you two doing? Get in, quickly.”
“Yes, understood.”
Cheon Yu nodded and led Cheon Hui toward the rearmost carriage.
There was already a passenger inside.
“Big brother! So Hui’s come too.”
Gu Gyeom Wi welcomed him with a grin.
Despite his frame—broader and more imposing than most warriors—he sat with a radiant smile despite the carriage being cramped around him.
The carriage curtain was drawn back at that moment.
“We depart now.”
At the driver’s word, Cheon Yu and Cheon Hui took their seats. In that same instant, the crack of a whip sounded, a horse neighed, and the carriage lurched forward.
“Where exactly are we headed, if I may ask?”
Only then did Cheon Hui inquire about their destination.
Gu Gyeom Wi and Cheon Yu exchanged confused glances.
“Brother?”
“Did I not tell you?”
Cheon Yu, pausing briefly as if to recall, added as though he’d simply forgotten.
“We’re going to the Namgung Clan.”
“The Namgung Clan……?”
Cheon Hui tilted his head slightly.
The Namgung Clan was renowned.
Acknowledged by all as the foremost of the Eight Great Clans and a pillar supporting the Bi Cheon Hoe.
Their history and reputation extended far beyond Kangho, spreading throughout All Under Heaven.
And Cheon Hui knew the Namgung Clan very well.
‘In my past life, the head of what they called the Five Great Clans was the Namgung Clan.’
Of course, then was not now.
Yet the essence remained unchanged.
‘The history has merely grown deeper.’
The Namgung Clan’s history ran deep.
Over eight hundred years of standing in Kangho, they rivaled even the Shaolin and Wudang schools.
But there was a question.
The current Namgung Clan stood opposed to the Murim Alliance, belonging instead to the Bi Cheon Hoe.
They were, moreover, a cornerstone of the Eight Great Clans.
“Aren’t you at odds with the Namgung Clan?”
“To deliver the corpse of Heuk Hyo Sal Ma.”
Gu Gyeom Wi answered the question, and Cheon Yu added the rest.
“There is a deep grudge between the Namgung Clan and Heuk Hyo Sal Ma.”
* * *
A fortnight after departing the Murim Alliance, the party finally arrived in Anhui.
“We’ve arrived in Anhui, Senior Brother.”
Gu Gyeom Wi pressed his face against the carriage window, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he took in the streets of Anhui.
Cheon Hui’s gaze had also drifted toward the window.
More precisely, he was studying the massive wall and wooden plaque visible even from outside.
‘Righteousness Reaches to Heaven?’
He read the characters emblazoned on the plaque: Righteousness Reaches to Heaven—the Namgung Clan.
Though the script was rough, whoever had written it possessed considerable skill—the work of a true master.
‘Hmm. Quite impressive. A calligrapher of that caliber must have reached at least the Heavenly Martial Realm.’
He sensed the piercing intent woven through the hastily scrawled characters.
Creak—
Hyeon Jin opened the carriage door.
“Get out.”
The moment they stepped outside, all the other Plum Blossom Swordsmen had already disembarked.
“……What brings the Huashan Sect to our humble gates?”
A gatekeeper of the Namgung Clan spoke, his voice bristling with killing intent, his body rigid as stone.
“We’ve come to deliver something.”
“What might that be?”
He stood perfectly erect, showing no sign of intimidation despite the numbers surrounding him.
“The corpse of Heuk Hyo Sal Ma.”
“……!”
The gatekeeper’s eyes widened in shock.
He stared at Hyeon Jin in disbelief, his mouth falling open.
“……Are you certain?”
Hyeon Jin nodded slowly.
“Indeed.”
The gatekeeper’s brow furrowed, and he bowed respectfully.
“Please wait a moment.”
“Very well.”
The gatekeeper turned and hurried inside.
Left standing at the gates of the Namgung estate, the group found themselves in an awkward position.
“……This may take a while.”
The Plum Blossom Swordsmen exchanged uncertain glances.
Creak—
The gates swung open.
“The Clan Lord has granted you entry.”
The gatekeeper had returned.
“Much obliged.”
As Hyeon Jin stepped forward to enter, the others moved to follow.
Stop—
The gatekeeper blocked their path.
“The Clan Lord has given permission for only one person.”
At the gatekeeper’s ironclad refusal, Hyeon Jin’s expression hardened. “You’re saying we can’t all go in?”
“That is correct.”
“But surely the corpse must be moved?”
“Our clan will provide the necessary hands.”
“You’d leave your guests standing outside?”
A deep, measured voice echoed from within the estate.
The owner of that voice was an elderly man with a kind face, sweeping the courtyard with a broom.
“Oh—Elder?”
The gatekeeper flinched at the sight of the old man and quickly bowed.
“I wish you had told me of your arrival sooner…….”
“The greeting will suffice.”
As he spoke, the elder set down his broom.
He clasped his hands behind his back and regarded the awkwardly standing daoists, then opened his mouth.
“How much longer do you intend to keep these honored guests standing outside like posts?”
“……Those are the Clan Lord’s orders.”
“The Clan Lord’s orders, you say?”
A crease deepened on the elder’s brow.
“Yes, that is so.”

The gate keeper’s confident voice shrank to barely a whisper, like insects crawling across stone.
The old man shook his head slowly, back and forth.
“Let them through.”
“But if we do that…….”
“I will take responsibility for this.”
“Y-yes, Elder?”
The gate keeper flinched at the words.
“So let them pass.”
“……Very well.”
The gate keeper spun on his heel.
“Come through, all of you.”
Cheon Hui glanced sideways at the old man.
‘Who is he? In most clans, a patriarch’s authority is absolute — I’d have expected him to command without question.’
This was no ordinary figure.
‘And the martial skill he carries is far from common.’
Just then the old man approached them.
“Forgive us for making you wait.”
The elder performed a respectful fist salute and met the eyes of Hyeon Jin and the martial artists, one by one.
His gaze was gentle.
Yet beneath that softness, Cheon Hui sensed something fierce and piercing—a hidden thunderbolt coiled within.
‘Quite powerful indeed.’
Then the old man’s attention turned to Cheon Hui.
He studied Cheon Hui far longer than the others, and as he finally began to withdraw, he softly intoned:
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Hyeon Jin quietly spoke the Sect Token in response.
“Thank you.”
The retreating old man smiled without speaking.
It was an evanescent smile, fleeting as a phantom.
Moments later, the old man clasped his hands behind his back and vanished into the distance. The gate keeper watched him go with a troubled expression before turning to face them.
“This way, please.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————