Obtaining Heavenly Demon Martial Arts in the Magic Era - Chapter 48

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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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48
The sound ceased.
The young man’s wooden sword traced one final arc and hung suspended in the air. His posture remained rigid as tempered steel, and his gaze settled on Do Hyeon.
“…A visitor from Korea, I see.”
Sweat trickled from his brow down the line of his jaw. The wooden sword lowered gradually, and the young man withdrew it, assuming a casual fist salute.
“I am Je Gal Yoon. I hold the position of Vice Leader of this clan, though my skills leave much to be desired.”
Vice Leader.
Do Hyeon turned the word over in his mind, studying the young man.
Around his own age?
He looked to be barely twenty—if that.
His features were clean and open, with nothing to conceal in his expression.
His eyes, sharp and unwavering, reflected his emotions with an honesty that bordered on naivety—a stark contrast to the inscrutability of Sect Leader Je Gal Gyeong. Yet Do Hyeon’s gaze lingered longest not on the young man’s face.
It was on his bare torso.
Having discarded his fine suit, the young man’s upper body was carved with lean muscle.
Between the sculpted sinews ran countless scars, nakedly visible. Marks from blade strikes, impacts from hard surfaces, gashes that had torn and healed.
They were the records of pain endured.
Beneath the expensive tailoring, the gleaming buildings, the foreign automobiles, this young man who had introduced himself as Vice Leader bore the body of someone who had lived an entirely different life.
Do Hyeon returned the fist salute.
“I am Cheon Do Hyeon.”
The corners of the young man’s mouth lifted slightly.
“A descendant of the Celestial Demon, then.”
It was the same phrasing the Sect Leader had used. Yet the meaning carried in those words now felt different.
Where the Sect Leader’s had been a simple statement of fact, this question held something closer to what martial artists feel.
Respect, or hunger—something in between.
Recognizing the emotion in Je Gal Yoon’s eyes, Cheon Do Hyeon could anticipate his next words without hearing them.
“Might I trouble you for a sparring match?”
As expected, the young man requested a duel, his proposal couched in courtesy.
Yet his eyes blazed with competitive fervor.
Do Hyeon regarded him for a moment.
He knew that gleam.
The thirst to throw the result of a lifetime’s training into combat with everything one had.
Je Gal Gyeong had said the Je Gal Clan had abandoned martial arts. But that was wrong.
Look at the man before him. See how brilliantly it burned, how it continued to shine.
A smile bloomed across Do Hyeon’s face, and the fog of confusion that had long troubled him lifted.
“I accept.”
A pleasant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He reached for the wooden sword hanging nearby.
#
Two wooden swords collided in the air with heavy force.
Clang—
The sharp ring of impact echoed through the predawn garden.
Je Gal Yoon’s movements were less like those of a human being and more like precisely interlocking gears turning in perfect synchronization.
Flawless trajectories. A footwork so controlled each step remained stable. A grip on the blade so unyielding it never wavered.
In the moment their swords met, Cheon Do Hyeon understood immediately why Je Gal Yoon had needed to push his body to its limits.
The martial arts of the Je Gal Clan were a technique of exacting precision, tolerating no margin for error.
Complete command of all twenty-eight angles of approach, relentless pressure that left no room to breathe, the pinnacle of Precise Sword Technique!
And so the swordsman who wielded it had trained his body without error, perfecting his martial art with absolute accuracy.
With the mind of one carving a mountain.
With the mind of one striking iron.
And the result stood before him now—Je Gal Yoon’s body.
As Do Hyeon faced his refined swordsmanship, he suppressed his astonishment.
The teeth of the Je Gal Clan had been honed sharp.
Three exchanges. Five. Seven.
Do Hyeon’s wooden sword traced a gentle arc, flicking Je Gal Yoon’s blade lightly upward. Je Gal Yoon stepped back and withdrew his sword.
The victor was clear from the start.
The young man’s sword was clearly superior in rank. Yet he could not properly follow Do Hyeon’s footwork and wavered; more critically, his sword path lacked killing intent.
A blade perfected only through endless training without actual combat experience could not overcome one forged in countless trials.
Crack—
A strike infused with the mysteries of the Celestial Demon Sovereign Step sent Je Gal Yoon’s wooden sword flying.
Je Gal Yoon wiped his sweat-damp face with the back of his hand and laughed brightly.
“Indeed… you are truly a descendant of the Celestial Demon. It was an honor to cross blades with you.”
The young man’s eyes shone with genuine delight.
It was the expression of someone who had wielded a sword alone his entire life, finally standing before a mirror that could reflect his own blade.
Yet Cheon Do Hyeon’s lips tightened imperceptibly after his victory in the sparring match.
This man had been practicing with his sword every dawn—all those hours while his clan publicly declared they had abandoned martial arts.
How lonely a path that must have been.
Because Cheon Do Hyeon could read the devotion and years embedded in that blade, his heart felt heavy.
Do Hyeon opened his mouth slowly.
“I hear your clan has renounced martial arts.”
A flicker of complex emotion crossed Je Gal Yoon’s eyes. The young man’s shoulders rose in a slight shrug, and he smiled.
“Officially, yes.”
Je Gal Yoon leaned the wooden sword against a pavilion post and continued.
“Though official positions and truth don’t always align, do they?”
Do Hyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He was smiling, but something hidden beneath that smile seemed to peek through.
Je Gal Yoon’s lips moved as though he were about to say something more, but he hesitated, leaving the words unspoken.
It seemed he had been on the verge of sharing something that differed from the Clan Leader’s views.
“There’s no need to force yourself. Don’t martial artists speak through their swords? I felt everything, Sub-Leader.”
At those words, Je Gal Yoon’s expression deepened with emotion. After a moment, he bowed his head low, and as if having made a decision, he carefully opened his mouth.
“…There’s something I’d like to show you.”
His voice trembled faintly. Je Gal Yoon gestured lightly toward the inner garden.
Then, from the shadows—whether she had been waiting there or had only just arrived was unclear—a young woman emerged and walked forward quietly.
Cheon Do Hyeon, possessing keen senses, had already pinpointed her location, so he was not greatly startled.
The woman Je Gal Yoon had summoned drew near.
A rich, traditional fragrance clung to her path, spreading faintly with each step.
Her slender frame was dressed in a white, hanbok-styled dress. There was something about her—a pristine elegance, as though she had stepped out of the wrong era.
Her features were unmistakably like Je Gal Yoon’s. It was plain at a glance that she was his younger sister.
The girl approached with measured steps and bowed her head quietly toward Do Hyeon.
“I am Je Gal Seo Rin.”
Her voice was clear and crystalline. Outwardly she was composed, yet her gaze burned with unexpected keenness. Beneath that serene exterior lay something honed steel-hard.
Je Gal Yoon lightly tapped his sister’s shoulder and spoke.
“Seo Rin. Take Do Hyeon to the clan’s library.”
The girl nodded briefly.
Do Hyeon glanced once more at the Sub-Leader.
“Why the library?”
Je Gal Yoon smiled more broadly this time, his expression deepening.
“You’ll understand once you see it yourself.”
The young man stepped aside, clearing the path.
“It’s better if the Clan Leader doesn’t know.”
The last words were so low they were barely audible.
Do Hyeon nodded slowly.
#
The library lay deep beneath the basement of the Main Building.
As the private elevator descended smoothly, Do Hyeon observed the girl beside him from the corner of his eye. Je Gal Seo Rin’s face showed no trace of tension—just the composed expression of someone guiding a guest through familiar ground.
The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened.
A rich scent of ink touched the tip of his nose.
The walls were filled with tall shelves of dark sandalwood, lined with ancient texts bound in silk covers.
Unlike the cold LED lighting of the upper lobby, the light here was warm and indirect, mimicking the glow of old lanterns.
A landscape entirely different from the glass building above.
Do Hyeon steadied his breathing without realizing it.
They had said the Je Gal Clan grasped money instead of swords.
Algorithms instead of formation techniques.
Business administration instead of the teachings of sages.
The true face of the Je Gal Clan—sealed away beneath reinforced glass and concrete—lay dormant in the sparring grounds above and in the basement archives below.
Je Gal Seo Rin guided him wordlessly.
Deep within the shelves, a thick reinforced glass display case sat along one wall. Inside it lay a single faded sheet of paper, resting quietly.
The girl stopped before the display case.
“What is this?”
Do Hyeon asked softly.
“Even the Clan Leader doesn’t know this copy exists.”
The girl’s voice echoed quietly.
Beneath her languid tone, her eyes held not a trace of wavering.
“After the 27th Celestial Demon, Cheon Song Gyeong, passed away, the Clan Leader wrote this Oath Document in his own hand. The original is sealed deep within the Clan Leader’s residence, and this is a copy.”
Do Hyeon’s breath caught.
Cheon Song Gyeong.
His father’s name.
A name from beyond a time that felt both strange and achingly familiar—one he had never spoken aloud, not once.
Do Hyeon stepped slowly toward the display case. Behind the reinforced glass, a faded sheet of paper faced him.
A single line, written in ink.
『Do not forget the oath. That day, we stood beneath the same sky.』
Below it, a seal had been pressed in blood over the name Je Gal Gyeong.
The words carried the weight of an earnest vow.
Do Hyeon’s gaze fixed upon that single line.
The Je Gal Clan had not forgotten the Celestial Demon.
Even if someone had chosen to turn away for the sake of the family.
At least someone had not.
Someone understood shame, and laid bare their own weakness so openly.
Something heavy within his chest began to slowly unwind.
Behind him, Je Gal Seo Rin spoke quietly.
“…Our family did not forget.”
Her voice trembled faintly.
For the first time, emotion showed through in her tone.
“The Clan Leader is one who protects his household. His decision is right from his position. But beyond that position, there are those who stand in other places, keeping their own watch.”
Do Hyeon listened without a word.
Je Gal Seo Rin said nothing more.
Do Hyeon fixed that single line before the display case once more in his memory.
『Do not forget the oath. That day, we stood beneath the same sky.』
As the elevator rose back to ground level, Do Hyeon remained silent.
Je Gal Seo Rin stood beside him without disturbing his silence. She knew, with the ease of familiarity, how to wait one step to the side until her guest was ready to speak again.
Something was stirring within his chest once more.
But it was no longer anger.
It was something close to hope.
The Clan Leader had refused.
But the family as a whole had not refused.
The Sub-Leader who sharpened his sword alone each dawn. The girl who kept a copy of that day’s promise sealed in the basement library. And beyond them, perhaps many others. The pledge to the Central Martial Alliance—it had not yet vanished.
The elevator doors opened.
On the path back to the Separate Building, the tail end of dawn was beginning to brighten faintly over the ridgeline of Yung Jung Mountain.
Grass blades wet with dew brushed lightly against Do Hyeon’s feet. The dawn air of Yung Jung Mountain was deeper, heavier than before.
Do Hyeon walked slowly forward.
Persuading the Clan Leader might well end in failure.
It is difficult to shake the heart of one with true conviction. One cannot break the Clan Leader’s resolve to protect his family through force alone.
Yet the family—
The family can be awakened again.
The hands of one who has swung a sword each dawn,
And the hands of one who buries a promise in the basement library, carrying shame.
If a place where they gather one by one could be made,
‘The outcome could be different.’
Do Hyeon climbed the final steps and stopped before the Separate Building’s door.
Before pushing it open, he drew a short breath.
A warm light seemed to seep into his chest. It was surely hope.

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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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