Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 86

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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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Episode 86
“A Non-Sword Verbal Exchange……?”
Disappointment flickered across Cheon Hui’s face.
“Wouldn’t it be better to just spar properly?”
Cheon Hui was plainly dissatisfied with the response.
It was called a duel in name only.
A Non-Sword Verbal Exchange meant speaking aloud of martial arts and techniques, imagining each other’s skills — hardly worthy of the name sparring at all.
It felt embarrassing to even call it that.
‘Crossing blades directly is always best.’
Yet Jongnam Geom Seong remained firm.
“You’d prefer to keep it simple, then.”
A click of the tongue.
Cheon Hui swallowed his disappointment inwardly.
For Jongnam Geom Seong already had that bright gleam in his eye — he had come resolved to conduct a Non-Sword Verbal Exchange, and showed no sign of backing down.
‘It’s not ideal, but it’s better than doing nothing at all.’
In the end, he answered with a reluctant tone.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
At Cheon Hui’s grudging reply, Jongnam Geom Seong let out a soft laugh.
Shortly after, the two sat down in chairs.
Jongnam Geom Seong’s gaze, which had been fixed on the dust-laden table, now turned toward Cheon Hui.
“I’ll yield the first move to you. Go ahead.”
“Understood.”
At once, Cheon Hui raised his index finger.
Watching Cheon Hui assume a warrior’s stance in a single fluid motion, Jongnam Geom Seong’s eyes gleamed.
‘His posture is flawless.’
When sparring against a master of such towering caliber, one typically grew tense.
Even if it was only a Non-Sword Verbal Exchange.
But the Cheon Hui before him was different.
He was composed.
Not fearless — something else entirely.
This was a warrior brimming with confidence in his own martial arts.
Then.
Swish—
Cheon Hui’s finger traced across the tabletop.
A perfectly clean, flawless line carved through the dust upon the surface.
In that instant, Jongnam Geom Seong’s eyes flashed.
“Is that your opening move?”
“It is.”
What Cheon Hui had deployed was the Taishan Pressure Strike.
A simple, straightforward technique — merely drawing a sword downward from above.
It was so basic that even a third-rate swordsman would never choose it as an opening move.
Yet the fact that he had opened with it…
‘A feint to probe my defenses.’
Having discerned Cheon Hui’s intent, Jongnam Geom Seong swiftly countered the descending Taishan Pressure Strike with a light, flowing gesture as he spoke.
“Then I shall deploy the Tianxia Mimi to contain your Taishan Pressure Strike.”
“How so?”
His hand movements suddenly spiraled outward in all directions, growing dense as a spider’s web.
The gesture of grasping empty air swept up the dust from the table in a single breath.
After a moment, Jongnam Geom Seong stopped his hand movements and added an explanation of the Tianxia Mimi.
“The Tianxia Mimi is a Chaotic Sword technique wielded to occupy all Eight Directions.”
Jongnam Geom Seong’s hand stilled.
“A simple downward stroke like your Taishan Pressure Strike will be completely trapped within it.”
“And you’d be mounting a counterattack as well.”
……!
Jongnam Geom Seong’s eyes widened.
‘How could he know that? Has he seen it before?’
The Tianxia Mimi was the most anomalous technique among the Tianxia Thirty-Six Swords, and few existed who truly grasped its nature.
‘He understood it in that very moment!’
As his thoughts deepened, so too did the intensity in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Cheon Hui recalled the Tianxia Mimi as he had seen it before.
‘Tianxia Mimi. It’s evolved after all.’
Long ago, some nameless Daoist of the Jongnam Faction had wielded a chaotic sword like a madman—a technique that guarded him like the talons of a beast.
‘Back then it was purely defensive, but now he’s combining offense and defense simultaneously.’
Cheon Hui recalled the hand gesture Jongnam Geom Seong had just executed—weightless, without a hint of internal energy.
A light, sweeping motion.
‘But if a blade had been drawn, it would have unfolded into something far too formidable to dismiss.’
In his mind’s eye, he pictured Jongnam Geom Seong deploying Tianxia Mimi against martial artists charging from all sides.
Flesh and blood scattering in every direction.
And Jongnam Geom Seong standing alone in the center, not a single drop of blood upon him.
Cheon Hui’s thoughts crystallized, and he nodded.
“In that case, I would respond like this.”
“How so?”
Jongnam Geom Seong fixed his gaze on Cheon Hui, who spoke without emotion.
There were dozens of techniques Jongnam Geom Seong knew that could counter Taishan Pressure Strike.
There was no need to ascend to the highest sword arts.
And yet he had deliberately unfolded Tianxia Mimi—the most heterodox and singular of the Tianxia Thirty-Six Swords.
His intent was simple.
Tianxia Mimi appeared to be flawless in both offense and defense, but executing it properly demanded considerable internal energy.
A definite weakness.
He had revealed it deliberately to gauge whether Cheon Hui could perceive it.
‘A master at Peak would only crumble trying to break Tianxia Mimi. But a master at Wuji Realm would avoid direct confrontation and seek to win through time itself…….’
Jongnam Geom Seong waited calmly for his answer—but Cheon Hui’s lips parted.
‘What choice will he truly make?’
He waited for the words to emerge.
To discern whether Cheon Hui was a Peak Master or a master of Wuji Realm.
And yet.
“Then I’ll deploy the An Xiang Step, burrow inward, and counter with You Xing Luo.”
Cheon Hui’s response was neither of those.
Not destruction, not evasion—instead, he stepped through a footwork pattern and launched a counter.
‘A counter?’
Jongnam Geom Seong’s eyebrows twitched.
“You believe you can evade the sword techniques of Tianxia Mimi and mount a counter?”
“I do, entirely.”
As Jongnam Geom Seong’s brow furrowed, Cheon Hui immediately offered his explanation.
“Tianxia Mimi appears dense, but when I look closely, it covers only the Eight Directions. So if I time the upper-right sweep, step the An Xiang Step, pivot my body sharply, and slip through the vacant space there…….”
As Cheon Hui’s explanation unfolded, Jongnam Geom Seong’s expression deepened with perplexity.
The theory was flawless.
Time the moment all eight directions of Tianxia Mimi are in motion and exploit the gap.
But.
‘It is an impossible approach.’
He could say it with certainty.
To execute the theory, one would need to master footwork centered on velocity and, in equal measure, master the Heavy Sword.
The conditions were exceedingly complex.
‘A man who masters the Heavy Sword would never master such an exquisite footwork as the An Xiang Step.’
The Heavy Sword followed a different path entirely from those who relied on strength alone.
Conversely, the An Xiang Step was a footwork of speed and grace—the two could not coexist.
To wield the Heavy Sword, one abandoned such exquisite footwork and paired it instead with ponderous footwork like the Thousand-Catty Anchor, channeling all force into weight.
‘Of course, one could learn both…….’
But it would border on futile.
The two were irreconcilable.
Even if one persevered, it would require years—perhaps decades—of suffering.
And who would willingly court such hardship?
‘Still, there is worth in considering it.’
Jongnam Geom Seong’s eyes shifted.
Until now, he had believed Tianxia Mimi was flawless in both offense and defense.
And yet it had a weakness.
While nearly impossible in the present moment, such things were never entirely ruled out.
‘An absolute master could pull it off.’
His thought caught short.
‘Could it be…….’
His eyes wavering slightly as he looked at Cheon Hui.
‘Coincidence? Or…….’
He stared hard for a moment, then shook his head slowly and raised his index finger.
“Then I’ll do this instead.”
His voice had grown heavier.
“If I withdraw the Tianxia Mimi here and deploy the Yun Long Xing Bu, attacking your right flank directly, you’d have no opening to counter.”
Cheon Hui watched as Jongnam Geom Seong suddenly turned serious, twisting his lips into a wry smile.
‘Now we’re getting somewhere?’
Realizing that Jongnam Geom Seong hadn’t been conducting the Non-Sword Verbal Exchange properly, he deliberately selected the most formidable of many possible counters.
And that choice was correct.
‘Now let’s have a real exchange.’
Cheon Hui raised his index finger at once and spoke.
“Then I’ll block it like this.”
“Ah, that so?”
“Then I’ll do this.”
“Hmm. Evade and counter then.”
The exchange continued, back and forth.
With each word Cheon Hui spoke, Jongnam Geom Seong released a stream of exclamations.
‘How did he conceive of such an approach?’
A vast and systematic martial theory.
It could be said to be broader and deeper than anyone he had encountered thus far.
‘His martial knowledge is already perfected.’
He clicked his tongue.
The greatest under heaven of a future generation?
It was beyond that tier entirely.
If he had both Internal Energy and martial technique combined.
Wouldn’t it be possible even now?
Having confirmed the source of Cheon Hui’s confidence from moments before, Jongnam Geom Seong felt the blood of a martial artist—which he had forgotten—beginning to surge.
‘This is not a skill level for teaching.’
He, who recognized only his own knowledge but now deemed this an exchange between equals, raised his index finger once more and attacked.
“The Yun Zhong Cang Long Bu…….”
Jongnam Geom Seong’s demeanor, which had been yielding just moments before, shifted to something grave.
Because of that.
‘Now he’s revealing everything without reserve.’
Cheon Hui’s smile deepened further.
Soon the heat of the two engrossed in the Non-Sword Verbal Exchange consumed the room.
The exchange continued.
They shared each other’s moves, unaware of how much time was passing.
So long did it stretch.
The moon set and the sun rose.
The world that had been buried in darkness slowly revealed itself, and eventually sunlight poured through the open window into Cheon Hui’s room.
“……Ah. The sun has risen, has it?”
Jongnam Geom Seong finally opened his mouth.
He had lost all sense of time’s passage.
‘Heh. I meant to observe his character, yet I found myself caught up in the exchange before I knew it.’
He shook his head gently.
For the first time in long years, the blood of a martial artist had stirred within him, and he had been intoxicated by the excitement.
‘Though it is not without merit.’
His heart felt refreshed.
Though they had not clashed with actual swords, the exchange had allowed him to unveil everything within him.
“Let us end it now.”
“Already?”
At Cheon Hui’s question, tinged with slight regret, Jongnam Geom Seong chuckled softly.
“I too wish to continue the exchange, but it would be better to stop here now, would it not?”
“That’s a shame.”
“Heh. A trace of longing always remains, no matter the matter.”
“Then when we meet again, we’ll do it once more.”
“Next time, you say…….”
Jongnam Geom Seong savored the word “next time,” and his face broke into a bright smile.
“Good. But next time, let us cross swords for real, not merely through words.”
* * *
The afternoon after Jongnam Geom Seong’s departure.
Cheon Hui, Cheon Yu, and Gu Gyeom Wi stood in a garden far larger than any courtyard they had trained in before.
“Come on.”
Cheon Hui waggled his fingers at Gu Gyeom Wi and Cheon Yu, who had taken their stances across from him with visible tension.
“Let’s go!”
“Here we come!”
Gu Gyeom Wi and Cheon Yu immediately rushed at Cheon Hui.
Thanks to their repeated sparring sessions with Cheon Hui over these months, the two of them coordinated their combined assault like a single fighter.
“Senior brother!”
“Good!”
The moment both men nodded.
Snap! Snap!
They split to either side in unison.
Cheon Yu, who had closed the distance in a heartbeat, dropped his body low to Cheon Hui’s waist level, and drove his fist upward, seeking the opening beneath his ribs.
Then.
“Not bad. You’ve improved quite a bit.”
Cheon Hui’s hand clamped down on Cheon Yu’s head.
Cheon Hui’s palm unfurled, drowning Cheon Yu’s vision, already beginning to steal away his consciousness itself.
“Ah, not yet—”
Cheon Yu, barely clinging to awareness, seized Cheon Hui’s wrist and cried out loudly.
“Junior Gu!”
In that instant, a sharp wind screamed from behind Cheon Hui’s back.
A sword wind like churning waves.
It was the Plum Blossom Surging Waves.
“Ah. Now you’re thinking.”
Cheon Hui laughed softly.
To give flesh and scrape bone.
The technique of Six Grinding Bone Breaking, which Cheon Hui favored, unfurled from their hands.
‘If this were before, they wouldn’t have even conceived of this. They’re growing.’
Cheon Hui swung his left hand.
Boom!
The air split with a sound, and Gu Gyeom Wi’s charging body flew backward.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Gu Gyeom Wi skipped across the ground like a stone on water before finally sprawling flat on his back.
Grrgh—
His mouth hung open from the impact, white foam frothing at the edges.
“Ha, haha.”
Cheon Yu, glimpsing Gu Gyeom Wi’s state through the gap between his trapped fingers, let out an awkward laugh.
“Ha, haha. Junior brother, are you all right?”
“That was quite an impressive combination. Drawing my attention, forcing my hand, and then concealing your presence—all the way to Junior Gu’s coordinated strike.”
“R-right?”
“But you need to conceal your presence more thoroughly.”
Cheon Hui tightened his grip on the fingers.
“Ngh, nghaaah!”
Cheon Yu thrashed, then gradually went limp, his body sagging to the ground.
“Still, you’ve grown quite a bit.”
He brushed his hand clean as he spoke.
Compared to their first sparring session—when he couldn’t land a single blow before collapsing—this was remarkably swift progress.
“The senior brother is different, that much is clear.”
His gaze shifted to Cheon Yu.
His development had been sluggish at first.
Even now, it remained slow in many ways.
But Cheon Hui, observing Cheon Yu carefully, was aware of his true transformation.
‘He’s hiding about thirty percent of his strength.’
Though he was hiding it, Cheon Hui already knew everything about him.
‘His Heart Technique seems stable now too.’
Cheon Yu’s Internal Energy Heart Technique differed from the other Plum Blossom Sword Masters—no, from the disciples of the Huashan Sect itself.
It was only natural, for he was the senior disciple of Huashan.
He had trained in the Zixia Divine Art.
‘I converted the Zixia Sword Technique to a fist technique on the fly, and it came together surprisingly well.’
Cheon Hui recalled the fist technique Cheon Yu had just deployed.
The Zixia Fist Technique.
A new fist technique he had reinvented by tailoring the Zixia Sword Technique to suit Cheon Yu.
‘I only taught him a couple of basic moves, but that alone should be enough to earn serious recognition in the Kangho.’
It was no coincidence that the Zixia Sword Technique was called the Absolute Sword Art—even reconstructing a single technique had taken considerable time.
‘I haven’t created all the moves yet, but I’ll be more skilled with them than with the Zixia Sword Technique.’
Cheon Hui, whose attention had been drawn elsewhere, surveyed the surroundings.
Besides Cheon Yu and Gu Gyeom Wi lying unconscious, several of the Plum Blossom Sword Masters who had already lost consciousness through earlier sparring lay scattered about.
“So what’s left is just martial training and physical conditioning.”
There was nothing more to teach them.
What remained was ultimately effort alone.
He could only accelerate their progress through actual combat experience.
Just as he was about to move and wake them, Hyeon Jin came rushing over urgently.
“Cheon Hui!”
Cheon Hui tilted his head at Hyeon Jin’s harried appearance, so unlike his usual composed demeanor.
“What’s wrong?”
Hyeon Jin, breathless from his run, thrust a sealed letter into Cheon Hui’s hands.
“A letter has arrived from the Sect.”
“A letter?”
The moment Cheon Hui took the scroll thrust before him and unrolled it.
“Hm?”
His brow furrowed slightly.
“Return immediately?”

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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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