Obtaining Heavenly Demon Martial Arts in the Magic Era - Chapter 37

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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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37
In the secret conference chamber at the heart of the Iron Blood Family Estate.
Twelve figures sat encircling an enormous round table—not a single resemblance among them in race, age, or appearance. Yet they were the heads of the Demonic Noble Families, the apex of power that manipulated the modern world from the shadows.
“Thanks to Iron Blood calling an emergency assembly, the Demonic Noble Families have gathered in one place again. How long has it been?”
A fair-haired, handsome man surveyed the round table, his voice tinged with nostalgia. Despite bearing the unmistakable features of a European Caucasian, fluent Korean flowed from his lips—courtesy of the conference chamber’s top-tier Automatic Translation Magic that enveloped the entire room.
“Save the sentimental drivel for your personal diary later, Gwang Hwi.”
An elderly white-haired man cut in sharply, silencing the fair-haired man mid-thought.
“You’re too cold-hearted, Bing Gyeol.”
The man wore an expression of disappointment that belied his elegant alias. Bing Gyeol, ignoring the other’s theatrics, immediately turned a piercing gaze toward Jang Jae-young. Bing Gyeol was a powerhouse whose voice carried considerable weight even among these twelve family heads.
“There’s no point wasting time. Let’s get straight to business. What exactly have you summoned us here for, Iron Blood?”
Jang Jae-young nodded silently, then laid out the matter he had prepared with grave weight.
“Remnant factions of Martial Artists who had been lying dormant on Korean soil have begun openly revealing themselves. Therefore, on the basis of the ancient covenant our predecessors once established, I formally propose the resumption of the Great Purification Operation—a joint offensive of all Demonic Noble Families aimed at the complete eradication of Martial Artists.”
“What? Martial Artists? How dreadful! What should we do? Shouldn’t we immediately dispatch all available forces from our family to Korea?”
The moment Jang Jae-young’s declaration ended, a young-faced man with green hair immediately responded with exaggerated fervor.
“Drop the tedious act, Maeng Dok. You have no interest whatsoever, and you won’t move a single soldier anyway.”
As Bing Gyeol spoke coldly, the theatrical concern that had animated Maeng Dok’s face vanished as if it had been a lie. In its place settled an expression of perfect blankness—like that of a finely crafted doll, devoid of all emotion.
“Tch, you’ve caught me. Fine. Honestly, I have not the slightest interest in the rampage of some Martial Artists. Those decrepit old fools—what could they possibly accomplish? Would any farmer with a hundred-thousand-pyeong plot of fertile farmland lock his granary because a few rats gnawed at some grains?”
A current of faint agreement rippled across the round table.
The assembly consisted of hothouse heirs of the current generation, those who had never directly experienced the overwhelming terror that the Twenty-Seventh Heavenly Demon had once inflicted upon the Continent. To them, Martial Artists were merely an extinct species recorded in the dusty pages of history, or worse—trivial specks of dust.
“Haven’t those wretches been barely scraping by for decades?”
“Quite right. It’s a tedious matter not worth our direct involvement. Iron Blood, if you truly need support, we’ll gladly contribute sufficient operating funds.”
There was no reason to engage them. They weren’t worth expending effort on. Such complacent, arrogant reactions dominated the chamber. Jang Jae-young sat with his eyes closed, listening silently to their prattling.
Had his legitimate son, Jang Gi-han, not been brutally murdered at the hands of those Martial Artists—whom he had believed to be relics lost in history’s shadows—Jang Jae-young himself would have been smirking alongside them with identical contempt.
Arrogant predators whose teeth and claws had rotted from long peace and absolute power, their hunting instincts completely atrophied. That was the current state of the Demonic Noble Families.
But Jang Jae-young was different now. He had acquired a bitter, compelling reason to uproot those rats entirely and exterminate them to the last.
“My son is dead. By that creature’s hand.”
Jang Jae-young’s suppressed murderous intent bore down heavily on the conference chamber’s atmosphere. The boisterous round table fell silent as if ice water had been poured over it.
“……That is, indeed, most regrettable.”
“So there remains enough strength for a single warrior to sever Iron Blood’s bloodline?”
“Hmm…… In that case, the situation is quite different. We shall have to pay it some attention.”
The family heads now stroked their chins thoughtfully, feigning serious deliberation. It was at that moment.
“Iron Blood.”
A man who had remained utterly silent until now finally opened his weighty voice.
Slicked-back dark brown hair held perfectly in place with pomade, intelligent black-framed glasses, a three-piece suit—and beneath it all, a muscular, powerful frame that spoke of anything but ordinariness. A middle-aged man exuding the refined, antiquated atmosphere of a quintessential English gentleman.
When he addressed Jang Jae-young by name, the air in the chamber became as heavy as lead. All twelve family heads instinctively tensed, straightening their postures. He was the de facto leader who commanded these twelve Demonic Noble Families.
“I express my condolences on the passing of your legitimate son. However, we cannot make so hasty a decision regarding the resumption of the Great Purification Operation. Have you forgotten? The Great Purification Operation was a joint offensive our predecessors conducted with everything at stake. And in none of the historical records kept by our families does it state that the operation ‘failed’ or was ‘suspended.’ Yet if we, their successors, openly resume it? That becomes an admission to the entire world that our predecessors completely failed in the suppression of Martial Artists. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Bung Goe.
He was a suffocating fundamentalist and doctrinaire. With Bung Goe’s monologue concluded, the other family heads quietly heaved sighs of relief.
It had been awkward to flatly refuse Iron Blood’s demand, armed as it was with the powerful justification of his son’s death. None of the family heads wanted to squander their families’ vast resources and elite forces hunting down Martial Artist remnants scattered in some unknown rat hole.
In that atmosphere of displeasure, Bung Goe, the leader, had elegantly obstructed Jang Jae-young’s request by wielding “the honor of our predecessors” as a perfect shield.
“I understand your positions perfectly. Then I shall handle this matter under the name of the Iron Blood Family alone.”
Jang Jae-young fixed the family heads with a cold gaze, his voice cutting.
“We’re grateful for your understanding of our deeper intentions.”
Bung Goe nodded lightly as if his role were perfectly concluded, then clamped his mouth shut.
“If you need any personal support, contact us anytime, Iron Blood!”
“We’ll pop over to Korea soon to pay our respects.”
With the exchange of hollow, formal courtesies, the pointless assembly of family heads came to an end.
Swoosh—swoosh—
The eleven figures who had been seated around the table a moment before shimmered and vanished like phantoms. It was absurd to think that those who wielded power across the globe would actually cross the Pacific for a single meeting. They had participated via high-grade Hologram Communication, a fusion of magic and science.
As the false apparitions vanished entirely, leaving Jang Jae-young alone in the empty chamber, the rage he had suppressed finally erupted like a volcano.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom—!
Crimson Magic Power surged from Jang Jae-young’s entire body, savagely tearing through the conference chamber. Chairs worth billions of won apiece—the finest furniture crafted by Demonic arts—shattered and scattered into the air as if caught in some invisible blender.
Crash-crack! Boom-boom-boom!
Steel fragments spiraled around the central table, brutally gouging the walls and columns.
Jang Jae-young’s rage was more than mere vengeance. Jang Gi-han, who had reached the Abyss rank at the tender age of seventeen. That son, single-handedly defeated by a monster named Cheon Do-hyeon who had ascended to the Absolute Peak. Jang Jae-young keenly understood the lethal threat this creature represented.
Cheon Do-hyeon was like a razor-sharp shard lodged deep in the throat of the Iron Blood Family. He might not suffocate them this very moment, but if he could not be expelled, he would inevitably tear through the esophagus, pierce the stomach, and drag the entire family toward annihilation.
“Iron Blood moves. Search every corner of Korean soil where those Martial Artists hide, and slaughter them all. Prepare yourselves.”
Jang Jae-young had no intention of granting that monster even a single additional second to grow.
#
In darkness and dampness, underground, Cheon Do-hyeon sat alone, his face cradled in both hands. Decades ago, his father, the Twenty-Seventh Heavenly Demon, Cheon Song-gyeong, had walked willingly into the Black Flames to save other Martial Artists. That terrible, sacred sacrifice. And the solemn oath sworn by all surviving Martial Artists, tears of blood on their lips, to honor him as their sole leader.
All these truths crashed over Cheon Do-hyeon like an unstoppable wave.
Among everything Seon Young-hun had told him, one thing in particular gnawed at him.
While all the martial artists faced social and economic exclusion by the Demonic Noble Families, fighting desperate battles simply to survive, Cheon Do-hyeon had lived an ordinary life—a fact he found unbearably shameful.
‘Why did Father make such a choice…!’
Resentment and anger surged uncontrollably through his chest. He understood his grandfather and father for turning away from such a heavy, cruel fate, yet he resented them all the same.
But all his emotions ultimately crystallized into guilt and a sense of responsibility.
Seon Young-hun watched Cheon Do-hyeon struggle in silence.
“……Take some time to think alone.”
Understanding the turmoil in Do-hyeon’s heart, he turned quietly and left. Those who had lived bearing a faded oath could only wait in silence for the heir to find his own answer.
That was when it happened.
“Wait.”
Do-hyeon’s voice cut through the cold air of the bunker. Seon Young-hun stopped and turned.
There stood Cheon Do-hyeon, his hands falling away from his face.
In his eyes burned a cold, unwavering resolve that had swallowed his fear whole.
‘He suppressed his Demonic Heart in that brief moment…’
Seon Young-hun marveled at this,
“……What should I do first.”
Cheon Do-hyeon asked quietly, his words heavy with purpose.
‘Truly, he carries that man’s blood.’
A faint tremor crossed the corners of Seon Young-hun’s weathered mouth.
“The Iron Blood Family has been calling in family heads scattered across the world. We may be facing a great war.”
Seon Young-hun relayed the grim intelligence that had arrived, holding nothing back.
He was preparing for the worst scenario. There was a possibility the Great Purification Operation might happen again—to completely annihilate the remnants of the martial artists.
“So to stand against them…… we’ll need to gather again.”
Do-hyeon’s gaze and Seon Young-hun’s met fiercely in the emptiness.
“The Total Martial Alliance.”
Breaking the long, suffocating silence, this was the moment when the martial world, which had held its breath, would pulse with life once more.

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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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