Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 65

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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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Chapter 65
Following the gate keeper’s lead, Hyeon Jin stepped forward first, and behind him came three Plum Blossom Sword Masters, including Cheon Yu, carrying the coffin that held Huk Hyo Sal Ma’s corpse.
‘Quite grand, isn’t it?’
Cheon Hui, following at the rear of the procession, let his eyes wander across the expanse.
‘By this standard, it wouldn’t pale in comparison to the Tianma Divine Sect’s five great families.’
The sprawling grounds of the Nam Gung Clan Estate displayed numerous grand halls arranged in all directions, their age-worn beauty speaking of long history.
One could easily imagine from the sight alone how much wealth and labor had been poured into this place, what heights the Nam Gung Clan had once reached.
As the party made their way through the vast courtyards and corridors of the estate, they encountered the clan’s servants, who had been going about their business with easy laughter.
“Are these visitors?”
“But those robes….”
In an instant, their laughter died.
Their gazes sharpened in the same moment, cutting through the party like arrows.
“The welcome doesn’t seem particularly warm.”
At Cheon Hui’s abrupt remark, the startled party spun their heads around.
“Am I wrong?”
“Hui.”
Hyeon Yu quickly approached.
He glanced sideways at the gate keeper, then pressed a finger to his lips and whispered low.
“Watch what you say here.”
“Why? Because this is the Nam Gung Clan Estate?”
“Yes. Because it’s the Nam Gung Clan Estate…. Surely you know that already—are you doing this on purpose?”
“I don’t like the way they’re staring.”
Cheon Hui glared back at those watching him.
Their gazes were far too blatant.
“Like we’re some kind of spectacle…. Mmph.”
Cheon Yu quickly covered Cheon Hui’s mouth, sensing the gate keeper’s sharp look.
“Shh. You need to stay quiet.”
Cheon Yu spoke with careful attention to the atmosphere.
In truth, he felt it too—that oppressive tension. No, not just him; he was certain the entire party could feel it.
But what could they do about it?
This was the Nam Gung Clan Estate—enemy territory.
One wrong word and they themselves might suffer the consequences.
Cheon Yu leaned close to Cheon Hui’s ear and murmured.
“We’ll talk about that later.”
Seeing the desperate plea in Cheon Yu’s eyes, Cheon Hui brushed away the hand covering his mouth.
His mood had soured.
Never in his imagination had he pictured being treated this way by the Nam Gung Clan.
But he endured it for now.
The burning gazes of the party members were fixed squarely on him.
Soon after, the party was shown to a side building.
“Please wait here for a moment.”
The moment the party stepped inside the side building, the gate keeper spoke only those words before departing.
“This is nothing short of being treated coldly.”
“Indeed.”
At Cheon Hui’s perceptive remark, Hyeon Jin held back a bitter smile.
He had anticipated to some degree that a visit to the Nam Gung Clan Estate might go this way.
The Muyrim Alliance and the Bi Cheon Society.
The two were bitter rivals.
But the coldness was worse than he had expected.
“…For now, let’s organize the luggage.”
Hyeon Jin deliberately steered the conversation elsewhere.
Complaining here would change nothing. They had no choice but to finish their business quickly and return to the Muyrim Alliance.
It was then.
Click—
The door to the side building suddenly opened, and a sharp-featured middle-aged man entered alongside Muk Hyang.
Upon spotting the party, he approached and offered a slight bow toward Hyeon Jin.
“I am Nam Gung Jin Su, steward of this house.”
Just as the party’s brows were beginning to furrow at his discourteous manner of greeting without a proper salute,
“I am Hyeon Jin of Huashan.”
Hyeon Jin replied, offering a proper martial salute.
“So you are Il Hong Mae, the great swordmaster.”
A flicker of light crossed Nam Gung Jin Su’s eyes at Hyeon Jin’s mention of the Sect Token, then faded.
“I hear you’ve brought the corpse of Huk Hyo Sal Ma. Is that true?”
“It is. And I’ve also brought a letter sent separately by the Muyrim Alliance.”
Hyeon Jin withdrew the letter from his breast and handed it to Nam Gung Jin Su, whose brow had furrowed.
“Sent by the deputy commander of the Muyrim Alliance, then.”
“Indeed, sir.”
With an uneasy expression, Nam Gung Jin Su held the letter, read it through, and slipped it into his sleeve.
“Confirmed.”
Nam Gung Jin Su gave a nod.
“Then follow me, all of you.”
Hyeon Jin’s brows drew tight.
“Follow you? What do you mean?”
“The Patriarch is waiting.”
At this sudden word, the party moved after the administrator without even unpacking their luggage.
How long they walked, none could say.
Then the group felt it—something was wrong.
The Nam Gung Clan Estate, which moments before had bustled with countless people, was now silent.
Not a soul moved through the corridors, the atmosphere grown so desolate it seemed to emanate cold.
Perhaps they sensed the peculiar quiet, the tension hanging like a storm about to break.
The Plum Blossom Sword Masters, led by Hyeon Jin, raised their vigilance and followed the administrator who walked ahead.
“This is the place.”
The administrator came to a halt.
At the end of the endless corridor stood an ancient gate wrought from weathered timber, awaiting their arrival.
[Cang Tian Great Hall]
As the Plum Blossom Sword Masters tensed at the sight of it, the gatekeepers pushed open the closed doors.
Creak—
The doors opened slowly, and a pale light spilled through the gap.
“Please, enter.”
Hyeon Jin stepped through the light first, and the moment Cheon Hui, the last to cross the threshold, entered—
“Is that the corpse of Huk Hyo Sal Ma?”
“The Plum Blossom Sword Masters, coming all the way here?”
Voices came from both sides.
‘So they were all here.’
Cheon Hui surveyed the hall through half-closed eyes.
In the brief span—less than an hour since word of their arrival—the Cang Tian Great Hall had filled with throngs of people clad in elegant martial robes of pale blue and white.
‘Just like those nobodies to pull stunts like this so often.’
Normally, they either held private audiences or engaged in casual conversation over small tables.
So why summon them to the great hall? Why fill it with clan members?
‘Showing off, making a fuss—’
Cheon Hui smirked as he studied them.
Their gazes held no warmth. If anything, they were watchful, laced with hostility.
‘Curious, though. To see the Nine Factions and One Gang and the Eight Great Families, once so tightly bound, now treat each other as enemies.’
It was quite a spectacle.
‘Ma Noe would have cheered if he’d lived to see this.’
Back in the Tianma Divine Sect, they had tried every conceivable scheme to split the Orthodox Sects, yet never once succeeded.
But now the split had come.
And with open enmity.
“Teacher, what are you doing?”
Just then, Gu Wi Myeong’s hushed voice reached his ear.
Coming to himself, Cheon Hui realized he had stopped walking—the party had moved well ahead without him.
“Come on.”
At Gu Wi Myeong’s urging glance, Cheon Hui resumed his steps.
A few more paces forward—
The group ahead came to a stop.
“Patriarch, we have brought the guests.”
Before the administrator’s words had even finished—
“Welcome.”
A clipped voice sounded from above.
Cheon Hui looked up. Seated upon an enormous Jade Throne at the top of the steps was a single man.
There was something extraordinary about his bearing.
Draped in ornate silk robes adorned with lavish precision, a jeweled crown upon his head, and beside the Jade Throne rested a sword studded with gems of every hue.
The man who had been displaying his authority rose from the Jade Throne and straightened his spine with deliberate formality.
“I am Nam Gung In, Patriarch of this clan.”
His tone was coercive, his gaze sharp and cutting.
Yet Hyeon Jin remained unmoved by such displays and offered a formal martial salute with proper courtesy.
“I am Hyeon Jin of Huashan.”
At those words, the Cang Tian Great Hall erupted in hushed murmurs.
“Il Hong Mae……?”
“Il Hong Mae has come all the way here.”
At that moment, the chief steward climbed the steps and carefully handed Nam Gung In a letter.
“A letter from the Muyrim Alliance, sir.”
As Nam Gung In read it, his expression shifted moment by moment before hardening into stone.
“A transaction…….”
He murmured the words softly, then rose to his feet.
“I wish to confirm whether that is indeed Huk Hyo Sal Ma’s corpse.”
“The body is here, sir.”
Hyeon Jin glanced toward the rear and gave a subtle signal.
Thud—
The Plum Blossom Sword Masters set down the coffin.
One of them then opened the sealed lid, and the acrid stench of death wafted forth.
“Is this Huk Hyo Sal Ma’s corpse?”
A palpable killing intent rose from various corners of the hall.
‘So they were bitter enemies, were they?’
Cheon Hui sensed a malice and hostility far more intense than anything directed at their party, and found himself curious about what connection Huk Hyo Sal Ma had borne to them.
‘One versed in the Blood Sect’s martial arts, entangled in a blood feud with the Nam Gung Clan. How fascinating.’
Then Nam Gung In descended the steps.
He came down slowly, one measured stride after another, passed by Hyeon Jin, and approached the coffin to gaze down into it at length.
“……That bastard’s face exactly.”
His voice was laden with thick, viscous killing intent.
He turned his head sharply and fixed his gaze on Hyeon Jin, his mouth opening.
“Who killed this wretch?”
“We did.”
“……You did, all of you?”
Nam Gung In’s expression made it clear he could hardly believe such a claim.
“We did.”
“A difficult thing to accept.”
His words carried a tone of dismissal.
But Hyeon Jin let it pass without rancor.
“Whether you believe it or not is of little consequence. But he was certainly versed in the Blood Qi Technique, and he himself acknowledged his identity as Huk Hyo Sal Ma.”
“He had mastered the Blood Qi Technique, you say.”
Nam Gung In stared at the corpse for a moment longer.
“Cheon Poong Dae Ju.”
“You called for me?”
A stern-faced man of middle years appeared like the wind and dropped to one knee.
“Examine this corpse.”
“As you command.”
Cheon Poong Dae Ju closed the coffin lid.
In that instant, four men materialized as if from a mirage, hoisted the coffin onto their shoulders, and bolted.
Dash!
In moments they vanished, and Nam Gung In turned to regard Hyeon Jin and his companions.
“You and your people will retire to the guest quarters now.”
It was language no different from a command to leave.
Hyeon Jin and the Plum Blossom Sword Masters felt a surge of indignation in that instant, but they clenched their teeth and voiced no complaint.
This was the Nam Gung Clan Estate.
They stood within the jaws of the tiger.
Left with no choice, Hyeon Jin turned and addressed the Plum Blossom Sword Masters.
“Let us depart now.”
The Plum Blossom Sword Masters ground their teeth together.
Though rage flared at such blatant disrespect, what burned even hotter was shame at their own silence.
Cheon Hui muttered to himself as he watched Hyeon Jin and the Plum Blossom Sword Masters pass by him.
“That’s why I can’t stand people who don’t know gratitude.”
It was a quiet voice.
But those standing nearby could hear every word he spoke.
“……!”
The group froze like statues.
They prayed he hadn’t heard, their eyes darting to Nam Gung In, but he had already stopped in his tracks on the stairs.
“Wait.”
Nam Gung In turned his head, his eyes sharpening as he fixed a cold gaze on Cheon Hui.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard that?”
Cheon Hui turned his body as he spoke.
His eyes met Nam Gung In’s directly, and a bitter smile spread across his lips.
“Petty heart, sharp ears.”
“Master!”
“……!”
“Hui!”
Hyeon Jin and the other Plum Blossom Sword Masters gasped, their eyes widening in shock.
Their opponent was the Patriarch of the Nam Gung Clan.
Here, he was someone who could control their lives at any moment.
And yet he was provoking him.
They rushed to stop him.
“So let me say it again—open your ears wide and listen carefully.”
Cheon Hui did not stop his provocation.
“D-don’t say…….”
“M-Master!”
“Don’t do this!”
Hyeon Jin and the other Plum Blossom Sword Masters tried desperately to stop him, but Cheon Hui’s lips had already parted before they could.
“That’s why I can’t stand people who don’t know gratitude.”

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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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