Reincarnation of the Blood Demon - Chapter 43

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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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Blood Demon Reborn
Chapter 43
You owe me a debt as of today.
Jin Gyeon’s eyes snapped wide open.
‘……What in the name of……’
The Cheonroe Bokma Singeom, deployed with all his strength.
It was a technique not yet perfectly mastered, yet it should never have been suppressed so easily.
Was this the Hubalseonje that the Wudang sect proclaimed—striking first after the opponent moved? He hadn’t even seen when the hand came out.
But what was far more startling still——
‘How could he possibly……bare-handed……?’
He’d seized the blade wreathed in Cheonroe Ki with nothing but a hand wrapped in force, pressing it down with his bare grip.
‘And worse—he’s from the Blood Cult!’
He’d woven the Bokma Geombeop, which held the mysteries of Daoism, with the Cheonroe Ki that possessed the function of Pasa Myeoljol.
Any ordinary Blood Cult disciple should have struggled merely to approach close range. Indeed, the other Blood Cult warriors watching bore expressions of unease.
Yet the Blood Cult’s Third Master seemed to feel no resistance whatsoever.
“Ah……”
The will to continue fighting crumbled at the sight before him.
Lightning crackled where his grip was torn away, yet Jeok Un-hwi seemed not to notice, and spoke softly once more.
“The Hyunwon Ilgi Gong fell out of practice?”
His tone was measured, yet it carried a weight of immense pressure.
Jin Gyeon nodded, unable even to think of resistance.
“……Yes. It was lost some two hundred years ago, I’m told……”
“Why?”
“The sect came under attack, and it disappeared in the chaos.”
“Only the Hyunwon Ilgi Gong vanished in all that commotion?”
“Perhaps……I don’t know the full truth myself. I’ve only heard fragments from my master. And besides, few people even know about this……”
Jin Gyeon stopped short, his mouth sealing shut.
The Hyunwon Ilgi Gong.
He’d heard that such a technique once existed. But more than two centuries had passed since its loss, making it an ancient art known to precious few in this age.
Jin Gyeon himself had only learned of it after becoming a senior disciple, so he knew merely that it had existed.
Yet if even he knew so little……
‘How could you possibly know of this?’
Jin Gyeon’s eyes rolled before fixing on Jeok Un-hwi directly. Suspicion glimmered in his gaze.
“Stop staring.”
“……”
His cold words had Jin Gyeon’s eyes drop toward the ground at once, though with evident reluctance.
“Tch.”
Jeok Un-hwi clicked his tongue and released the blade from his grip.
Now that he’d learned the Hyunwon Ilgi Gong was lost, there was no reason to needlessly prolong this clash.
Jin Gyeon ventured a cautious question.
“How exactly did you know about my technique……”
“Be quiet.”
“Mm.”
Jin Gyeon fell silent with an aggrieved expression. For all he could tell, he was considerably older; it seemed unfair to be treated so dismissively.
Regardless, Jeok Un-hwi, having silenced him, furrowed his brow and considered the matter.
‘Attack, and only the Hyunwon Ilgi Gong fell out of practice. Is such a thing possible?’
For Huashan, it would be like the Maehwa Geombeop disappearing; for the Demon Cult, like the Cheonma Singong. The supreme art that defined an entire sect could never vanish so easily. Even if texts like the Bigeupseo had been destroyed, those who inherited the technique should have remained.
Yet now this so-called senior disciple seemed not even to understand what the Hyunwon Ilgi Gong truly was.
No matter that two centuries had passed since the incident, it was not a matter to be dismissed so lightly.
‘It cannot have been mere chance or natural disaster.’
And remarkably, Jeok Un-hwi had already experienced something strikingly similar.
‘The Macheun Hyeolhae Gyeol was the same.’
His own unique technique had become untraceable even in this age.
The Hyunwon Ilgi Gong, it seemed, had not been concealed quite so thoroughly, yet it was clear as day that if this continued, all remaining traces would eventually vanish entirely within a few more generations.
‘The work of the same person?’
The likelihood was low.
At least a century separated the disappearance of the Macheun Hyeolhae Gyeol from the loss of the Hyunwon Ilgi Gong.
But if his hypothesis held truth, then whoever had hidden the Macheun Hyeolhae Gyeol had endured for a hundred years at minimum, perhaps two hundred, and had extended their reach even to the Gongdong Sect.
‘Their influence may run far deeper than I imagined.’

He’d sensed from the start that this was no ordinary force, but it ran far deeper than he’d imagined. Indeed, it was fair to call them the hidden hand scheming in the shadows of the Murim itself.
That assessment assumed, of course, that all of this stemmed from the same perpetrator—but Jeok Un-hwi’s instincts were singing a shrill alarm in this very moment.
‘Are the others safe as well?’
The Demon Cult’s Soma Huntian Gong.
And the Sadoryeonju’s Tamrang Ssanghon Simbeop.
Along with the Gongdong Sect’s Hyunwon Ilgi Gong—the three most celebrated Bunsim Gong techniques in all the Kangho of the present age.
Now that he’d confirmed the real application of Hyunwon Ilgi Gong, there was no guarantee the others remained intact.
‘I wish it were only coincidence….’
The world does not always flow as one wishes it to.
Jeok Un-hwi had learned that truth long ago, and so he could not help but contemplate the worst possibility.
And there was another soul present whose face had grown equally heavy with dread.
‘It cannot be. It simply cannot.’
Hyeon Won muttered his denial, his jaw clenched.
The spectacle displayed by the Blood Cult’s third son had shattered all rational understanding.
‘Since the Blood Demon ascended to lead the Blood Cult, we have not clashed seriously with the orthodox sects of the Murim.’
The current cult master rarely engaged in external affairs.
Thus, not only Jin Gyeon and the second-generation disciples, but even the first generation had never gained proper combat experience against the Blood Cult.
And yet, the Blood Cult remained the Blood Cult. The Gongdong Sect had, as always, kept watch with vigilant attention.
He himself had believed as much, but….
‘Have I grown complacent? Rusted by time?’
In light of the third son’s impossible feat, it seemed he had.
Not content with dismantling every technique of the Bokma Jeomgeom, he had received the very Cheonroe Bokma Singeom—the Gongdong Sect’s pride—as though it were nothing.
And the architect of all this was none other than the Blood Demon’s third son himself.
When all circumstances were weighed together, their meaning crystallized into one inescapable conclusion.
‘They possess a Pahoe-sik for our sect.’
If the Blood Demon’s apparent quietude had in fact been a period devoted to researching a Pahoe-sik against Gongdong techniques…
Then seizing Heungryong Mountain and brazenly expanding their territory meant they had completed that work.
‘This is no trivial matter.’
It could shake the very destiny of the entire Gongdong Sect.
Hyeon Won’s eyes went cold as winter stone.
‘I must verify this myself.’
Just how far does that third son’s blade truly reach?
Let the world call him a bully for directly confronting his juniors—he had no choice.
Shing—
With a blade suddenly drawn, the very atmosphere transformed. Such was the weight of that single gesture that both sides snapped their attention toward him.
This was what a master swordsman at the pinnacle of the art truly was.
“Surely, Elder? Even so, to face him directly yourself….”
This was not like the provocation that had begun earlier with Jeok Un-hwi. No matter that the opponent was from the Blood Cult, it was unseemly for a man past sixty to step into the arena of younger disciples.
Jin Gyeon voiced his concern, but Hyeon Won shook his head curtly.
“Stand back. There is something I must confirm.”
“…!”
Jin Gyeon, hesitant, reluctantly withdrew, and at last Hyeon Won and Jeok Un-hwi faced one another.
Hyeon Won spoke, his eyes dark and sunken.
“Your martial prowess left an impression.”
“I’m obliged.”
“The Blood Cult has prepared extensively. It seems quite different from what we understood. However did you manage it?”
“Preparation, you say.”
Jeok Un-hwi, turning the word over, let out an amused chuckle.
“…What’s so funny?”
Hyeon Won’s eyes narrowed, as if stung.
Then Jeok Un-hwi met his gaze directly and spoke.
“Words should be precise.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not changed—returned. To the root, to the original Blood Gong itself.”
“…!”
Hyeon Won’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. Though his words were few, they carried such unmistakable conviction that the meaning struck home.
He nodded slowly and assumed a formal fighting stance with respect.
“I cannot say I fully grasp your meaning… but yes, this ‘root of Blood Gong’—could you show it to me as well?”
The atmosphere ignited. A palpable tension settled over them, as though they might clash at any moment.
To this, Jeok Un-hwi’s answer came as follows.
“I’d rather not.”
“?!”
Hyeon Won’s eyes widened in genuine shock—he hadn’t expected a refusal, not here, not now.
He spoke again, his voice hollow, dignity forgotten.
“Why……?”
“What’s the point in fighting more?”
That was the truth.
The match with Jin Gyeon had served only one purpose: to verify the Hyunwon Ilgi Gong.
Now that he’d confirmed it was genuine, there was no reason whatsoever to trade blows with an elder of the Gongdong Sect.
“Ah, no—that is…….”
Hyeon Won’s mind went blank.
When someone speaks with such courtesy, it was good manners to oblige. Especially when that someone was a distant senior of the Kangho.
To refuse was nearly unthinkable in the Murim world. A single person’s recklessness could tarnish an entire sect’s reputation.
The only misstep here was that Jeok Un-hwi wasn’t the sort of man to quibble over such trivialities.
‘He says he won’t fight. What do I do? Force him into it anyway……? No, if I did that, things could spiral out of control…….’
As Hyeon Won wrestled with this dilemma, Jeok Un-hwi’s expression shifted into an amused smile.
“Still, your plea seems quite earnest. I’ll grant you this courtesy.”
Truth be told, he’d never intended to refuse the challenge.
Why turn down a match with a Gongdong elder?
The man had thrown down the gauntlet first. What other reason did he need?
The refusal at first had been nothing but a jest—to rattle the stern old man.
But Jeok Un-hwi was not one to shy from a fight that came his way.
Shing.
A blade shaped like a beast’s fang slid free from its sheath.
“You owe me one after today.”

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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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