The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign - Chapter 151

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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 151.
Baek Yeon continued, his expression grave.
“I speak of the fundamental reason why the conflict between the Righteous Masters and the Ten Demon Immortals began.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
Baek Yeon fell silent for a moment, his gaze fixed upon the distant sky.
“The Ten Demon Immortals and the Righteous Masters. On the surface, it appears to be merely a clash between young prodigies… but in truth, the Demonic Path and the Righteous Path are testing their strength against one another once more.”
“A test of strength… you say?”
Bu Eunseol, lost in contemplation, shook her head.
She could not agree with that assessment.
“If this conflict were truly a contest of power between the Demonic Path and the Righteous Path, the Demon Hall would have given the Righteous Masters sufficient time to face them properly.”
Bu Eunseol’s lips trembled as she recalled those who had perished in the slaughter on Hell Island.
“Yet they forced the Ten Demon Immortals to emerge merely because they were displeased with the succession battle. After all, the Ten Demon Immortals are nothing but expendable pieces.”
“Expendable pieces. Your words ring true.”
Baek Yeon’s eyes deepened with understanding.
“And that is precisely why this contest of strength is possible.”
Baek Yeon’s long, phoenix-like eyes narrowed to slits.
“As you said, the successors of the Ten Demonic Gates remain unharmed. Therefore, the Demon Hall seeks to eliminate the Righteous Masters by deploying the Ten Demon Immortals first…”
He paused, then spoke again with heavy gravity.
“The Righteous Path does the same.”
In that moment, Bu Eunseol grasped a terrifying truth.
The reason Seong Ryun had sought to kill her without hesitation—was it not precisely the same situation as the Ten Demon Immortals?
“Then… the Righteous Masters face the same circumstances?”
“Indeed.”
Baek Yeon nodded faintly.
“Regardless of their sect, we select talented individuals of exceptional aptitude and lavish them with martial instruction, making them pillars of the Righteous Path. That was the Righteous Masters plan.”
Baek Yeon paused and exhaled deeply.
“And the plan appeared to be succeeding. But an unforeseen problem emerged.”
Bu Eunseol answered immediately.
“Just as with the Ten Demon Immortals, the successors of each Orthodox sect felt threatened.”
“Precisely.”
Baek Yeon wore a bitter smile.
“Every sect, including the Nine Sects One Alliance, already had their own successors designated. But when the Righteous Masters—these exceptional beings—appeared, it only bred division instead.”
In the greater sects, martial talent alone could not determine a successor.
Without the support of the factions that sustained each sect, one’s position meant nothing.
Dang Gon had been such a case, and Seong Ryun was no different.
“Yet Songnan and Gongdong are desperately searching for the Ten Demon Immortals who killed them, are they not?”
“True. They search for the Ten Demon Immortals. Only the Ten Demon Immortals.”
Baek Yeon smiled coldly.
“If they truly sought vengeance, they would have first identified which sect sent the Ten Demon Immortals and demanded proper recompense. That would be far more efficient.”
“I see.”
Only now could Bu Eunseol comprehend the full truth of it all.
The Ten Demon Immortals and the Grandmasters of the Orthodox Sects.
Those who had mastered the highest martial philosophies of both the Demonic Path and the Righteous Path were nothing more than chess pieces on a board, substitutes fighting a war between two greater powers.
‘So that’s why the Grandmasters never remained within their respective sects.’
The Grandmasters who once shone with brilliant renown.
Yet they no longer stepped forth into the Murim, choosing instead to live in seclusion without exception.
They had no choice but to quietly depart from their sects to avoid disrupting the power structures of their successors.
“But you are different.”
Baek Yeon spoke while meeting Bu Eunseol’s eyes directly, though her mind seemed distant.
“You are the successor of Nangya Sect. It has always been so, and it remains so now.”
Baek Yeon drew a deep breath and spoke with conviction.
“If you wish it, I can free you from the shackles of the Ten Demon Immortals this very moment.”
Bu Eunseol’s gaze remained fixed not on Baek Yeon, but on empty space.
What he desired was not the position of Nangya Sect’s master or even the successor of Demon Hall.
To grow endlessly stronger.
He wished only to become ever more powerful, to find the vicious beast that had overturned his fate, and to claim his revenge.
‘I cannot flee from trials.’
To grow stronger, I could never avoid hardship.
Once I began to evade danger and difficulty, I would grow accustomed to it. Then I could never become a master who looked down upon the Murim.
“I….”
Bu Eunseol drew a deep breath and spoke with determination.
“I will continue to face the Grandmasters.”
At this unhesitating answer, Baek Yeon nodded.
“I knew you would say that.”
Baek Yeon, a thin smile on his weathered face, withdrew an envelope from his robes.
“Read it. Since I cannot linger here long, I have placed all the information I wished to convey to you within this.”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes widened as he withdrew and read the documents inside the envelope.
“These are….”
“The choice is yours to make. Whatever you decide, I—and Nangya Sect—will have faith in you.”
“Master.”
Baek Yeon smiled warmly and patted Bu Eunseol’s shoulder once more.
“Take care of yourself.”
Baek Yeon regarded Bu Eunseol with warm eyes, then slowly turned and faded away like mist.
Bu Eunseol watched the direction where Baek Yeon had vanished, then brought his hands together and bowed deeply.
“More….”
Bu Eunseol murmured softly, biting his lips firmly.
“I will grow stronger.”
Crackle.
Thick paper burned away in the campfire that had been left burning.
It was the envelope that Baek Yeon had given to Bu Eunseol.
My eyes were hollow as I watched the paper burn away in white smoke.
It seemed as though I was lost in deep thought, yet simultaneously appeared to be thinking of nothing at all.
“I must choose.”
The envelope contained two pieces of information.
First, it was about the movements of the Ten Demon Immortals in the Murim.
Seok Woo Haeng, a Ten Demon Immortal of Geuk Sal Mil Gak, had apparently eliminated another master of the Orthodox Path.
And Myo Cheon Woo, a Ten Demon Immortal of the Destruction Spear Sect, had belatedly killed an Orthodox master and escaped pursuit.
‘So Myo Cheon Woo survived just like Yu Woon Ryong.’
In summary, four of the seven Ten Demon Immortals who had entered the Murim had survived.
The second piece of information was that Ma Cheon Je, who had entered closed cultivation, would break his seclusion and return to the Demon Hall within a month.
In other words, within a month, the situation among the Ten Demon Immortals could change once again.
Baek Yeon had also predicted that the battles between the Ten Demon Immortals and the Orthodox masters would cease.
“A candidate for the successor of the Demon Hall.”
I had no intention of becoming a candidate for the Demon Hall’s successor by killing many Orthodox masters.
But through this incident with the Beggar King, I had made one firm resolution.
It was to break free from the shackles of being a Ten Demon Immortal and prove it to the world.
“If I cannot even accomplish this, then I am unworthy of being the successor to the Root Sect.”
For the sake of the Fengyun Corps members who had sacrificed themselves for me, I had to become stronger.
“After all, I have only about a month left.”
To achieve this, I had to surpass Seok Woo Haeng. In other words, I had to kill two Orthodox masters within a month.
* * *
Janggeom Mountain Lodge.
A secluded mountain lodge built along the treacherous natural terrain of Biryong Mountain.
Though it could not compare to the Nine Sects One Alliance or the Eight Great Families, it was a prestigious Orthodox sword sect that had long maintained its reputation throughout the Jeongju region.
Eight years ago, when Han Sung, the lodge master of Janggeom Mountain Lodge, was selected as an Orthodox master, the lodge’s fame had spread beyond Jeongju to resound throughout the Hanam region.
Ding ding ding.
Loud music echoed throughout Janggeom Mountain Lodge as crowds of people gathered like clouds.
Today was the day Han Young Baek, the master of Janggeom Mountain Lodge, would perform the Golden Basin Retirement Ceremony.
The Golden Basin Retirement Ceremony.
A ritual where water is poured into a golden basin and one washes their hands, symbolizing the settling of all debts and grudges earned in the Gangho and retirement from the Murim.
And the Golden Basin Retirement Ceremony was a unique ritual that only righteous heroes of the Orthodox Path could perform.
Blood debts are washed away with blood.
In truth, even if one held a hundred or thousand Golden Basin Retirement Ceremonies, those bearing grudges would never cease their vengeance.
Therefore, only those who had done great good in the Murim or were renowned righteous heroes of the Orthodox Path could perform such a ceremony.
Murmur murmur.
An enormous crowd had gathered at Janggeom Mountain Lodge to celebrate Han Young Baek’s Golden Basin Retirement Ceremony.
Though it was a small sword sect of Jeongju, various factions and local dignitaries had sent gifts out of respect for Han Sung, the Orthodox master.
Then, accompanied by the soft ringing of a bell—ding ding ding—the martial artists of Janggeom Mountain Lodge brought forth a large table.
Upon the table sat a gleaming golden basin filled with clear water.
“I am grateful to all of you, my fellow practitioners!”
At that moment, an elderly man draped in a silk brocade robe stepped forward to where the guests had gathered.
It was Han Young Baek, the master of Janggeom Mountain Lodge.
Beside him stood a robust young man—Han Sung, the young master of Janggeom Mountain Lodge and a master of great renown.
The martial artists who had been huddled together eating and drinking suddenly ceased their movements as the Han family patriarch and his son appeared, their eyes fixed upon them.
“I never imagined so many distinguished guests would grace this humble old man’s sixtieth birthday celebration.”
Han Young Baek’s voice was low, yet infused with inner power that carried clearly to the ears of over three hundred martial artists present.
“From this day forward, I shall wash my hands of worldly affairs and cease all involvement in the matters of Murim. And henceforth, all matters of the lodge shall be….”
Han Young Baek’s words did not continue.
Suddenly, the water contained in a large basin erupted like fireworks.
“Father!”
Han Sung instinctively positioned himself directly in front of Han Young Baek.
Sizzle!
Yet from the spraying liquid rose white smoke. What lay in the basin was no clear water—it was deadly poison.
“Ugh!”
As Han Sung swept his sleeve to repel the liquid,
Hisssss….
This time, thick smoke suddenly billowed up from beneath the tables, spreading outward in all directions.
“Aaaahhhhh!”
Piercing screams suddenly erupted from within the hall, now shrouded in murky smoke.
Those screams, as though every ounce of life force had been poured out, were so utterly anguished that they sent chills down the spines of all who heard them.
“The young master is dead!”
Someone cried out as the smoke cleared.
Han Sung’s head, which had been shielding Han Young Baek, was now separated from his body.
“An assassin!”
As Han Sung, a master of great renown, was killed in an instant, the hall descended into chaos.
Yet something was strange.
Despite his only son being dead, Han Young Baek’s face remained remarkably composed.
Indeed, a subtle smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.
Boom.
Suddenly, a dull sound echoed from the entrance of the lodge.
Simultaneously, with a sharp metallic clang, dozens of warriors burst forth from the Back Garden and swiftly sealed off the entrance with disciplined precision.
As this unexpected turn of events unfolded, those gathered exchanged glances with one another.
―What in the world is happening?
“Remain calm!”
At that moment, Han Young Baek surveyed his surroundings and spoke in a commanding voice.
“Esteemed guests of the Orthodox Sects! Allow me to offer my apologies first!”
With a solemn expression, he surveyed the crowd once more before speaking again.
“I have heard that recently, a group of demonic practitioners calling themselves the Ten Demon Immortals have been disturbing the peace of Gangho.”
At those words, several sharp-witted martial artists subtly nodded in understanding.
They had grasped that this sixtieth birthday celebration was a trap designed to lure in the Ten Demon Immortals.
“That is correct. This Golden Septet Ceremony was a desperate gambit to draw out the Ten Demon Immortals.”
Han Young Baek paused briefly before continuing.
“Of course, the Golden Septet Ceremony will proceed as planned. However, only after we dispose of the Ten Demon Immortals who have infiltrated this place.”
At that moment, a robust young man ascended from behind Han Young Baek.
The assembled guests gasped in unison, for he was none other than Han Sung, the master of Janggeom Mountain Lodge.
Could it be that he had a twin brother?
“Woo Hak. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten.”
Han Sung, his face etched with anguish, gently touched the cheek of the young man who bore his exact visage.
As he did, a thin mask peeled away, revealing the sharp, wide-eyed face of the youth beneath.
―Such a mask exists!
The martial artists watching the scene turned pale with shock.
Human skin masks were not particularly rare in Murim.
However, they were merely tools to conceal one’s own face—they could never perfectly replicate another person’s features in such exacting detail.
“I apologize for startling you all.”
As the warriors of Janggeom Mountain Lodge respectfully collected Woo Hak’s remains, Han Sung stepped forward and clasped his hands in apology.
“Upon learning that a Ten Demon Immortal from Geuk Sal Mil Gak sought my life, our lodge made thorough preparations. With the assistance of Bang Heng Hae, the master of Gyosu Pavilion, we crafted this mask.”
Exclamations of admiration erupted from the assembled martial artists.
Bang Heng Hae, the pavilion master of Gyosu Pavilion, was known as the Ingenious Craftsman—a master of mechanical devices and an artisan capable of creating anything imaginable.
Han Sung had commissioned Bang Heng Hae to create a mask identical to his own face, which he then had one of his lodge’s warriors wear.
Having finished his explanation, Han Sung surveyed the crowd with a satisfied smile.
“If you reveal yourself now and submit to capture peacefully, I will spare your life.”
Despite Han Sung’s proclamation, the assembled guests merely exchanged glances—none dared respond.
“So be it.”
Han Sung nodded, and the warriors of Janggeom Mountain Lodge standing in formation sealed the entrance.
“We apologize, honored guests, but we must ask that you follow our warriors’ guidance and relocate temporarily.”
Murmurs of discontent rippled through the crowd.
“We came only to celebrate the master’s Golden Septet Ceremony!”
“We want no part in such troublesome affairs!”
Han Sung listened to their complaints in silence before speaking with grave authority.
“This measure is necessary to identify the Ten Demon Immortals. We ask for your understanding. Should you refuse….”
A piercing light blazed from Han Sung’s eyes.
“We will have no choice but to consider you an associate of theirs.”
Like a master whose reputation shook the heavens, Han Sung’s presence radiated an overwhelming aura that dominated all assembled.
Though several martial artists frowned in displeasure, they reluctantly began to move.
“…!”
As the warriors’ departure neared completion, Han Sung’s eyes flashed with keen perception.
He had locked gazes with a middle-aged man moving slowly, his eyes sharp and penetrating.
Though the moment lasted but an instant, Han Sung did not miss that gaze.
“Wait.”
Tap!
Sensing that Han Sung had discovered him, the Middle-Aged Man suddenly spun around and began vaulting over the walls of Janggeom Mountain Lodge.
Whoosh!
But in that instant, a spray of blood erupted across the void.
Simultaneously, the Middle-Aged Man tumbling over the wall plummeted to the ground.
Thud.
Before the fallen Middle-Aged Man, dozens of shadows clad in indigo martial robes descended from the heavens.
They were the Taoists of the Gongdong Sect.

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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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