The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign - Chapter 4

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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 4
In that moment, the Martial Arts Arena seemed engulfed by a bitter cold wind.
Survive.
So they were selecting only one person from among all these talented disciples?
“What kind of rule is this?”
At that moment, Chi Ui Girl, standing midway through the crowd, cried out in a sharp voice.
“Everyone here is a disciple of the Demonic Path. Are you telling us to slaughter our own brethren?”
“Fight or kill as you see fit. All that matters is becoming the victor and surviving.”
“Isn’t that what you’re saying?”
“If you dislike it, leave.”
Hyuk Ryeon Eung spoke flatly.
“I’m not forcing anyone. Whether you withdraw or participate is entirely your choice.”
―If you dislike it, leave.
Chi Ui Girl, with nothing left to say, closed her mouth.
When no further protests arose, Hyuk Ryeon Eung nodded and spoke in a low voice.
“Then, begin.”
Zing.
The gong installed on the Martial Arts Arena rang out once more.
In that instant,
“Ahhh!”
A scream erupted from the center of the arena.
A young man had drawn a spear like lightning and attacked the one standing beside him.
“Jeok Ryong. At last I can kill you today.”
“Wi Woon Cheong! You….”
Wi Woon Cheong and Jeok Ryong.
The two were mortal enemies with grievances intertwined between their clans and sects. Wi Woon Cheong seized this opportunity to ambush Jeok Ryong and settle the score.
Whoosh!
As Jeok Ryong collapsed, bleeding, dozens of participants screamed.
Hyuk Ryeon Eung, observing this spectacle, merely nodded with a satisfied expression.
“Those who wish to leave, depart now. Once the fighting truly begins, there will be no opportunity to escape.”
Yet no one moved.
To be selected as one of the ten Demon Hall disciples and master the profound teachings meant becoming the foremost figure of the Demonic Path was no mere fantasy.
How could one possibly abandon such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Whoosh. Clang. Clang!
Several of those on the arena drew their weapons and began fighting.
Yet most of the participants still stood bewildered, swaying uncertainly.
No matter how they justified it as selecting the most exceptional talents, they had not anticipated such ruthless proceedings would unfold so brazenly.
―We didn’t sign the waiver just to be intimidated!
Only now grasping the weight of what they had signed, several participants turned and bolted from the Training Grounds.
But most of the participants wielded their weapons like madmen.
‘Fools.’
Bu Eunseol stood motionless at the edge of the Training Grounds, her expression glacial.
Though she wore a conspicuous funeral robe and carried a bamboo basket, no one attacked her.
‘They’ve lost their reason to fear of death.’
Everyone in the Training Grounds fought like the blind, striking only at enemies within arm’s reach.
Their rationality had been paralyzed by the terror of death.
―Fight. And survive.
Those words did not necessarily mean to kill every participant here.
To endure to the end. To persist relentlessly, and live.
‘If they had listened with clear minds, this wouldn’t have happened.’
Unfortunately, most of the participants were young disciples who had only recently begun their sect’s martial studies.
In contrast, Bu Eunseol had spent an entire year preparing corpses without missing a single day.
Having savored the meaning of death every single day, she felt neither fear nor terror of it.
“Aaaahhh!”
“Gack!”
“Argh!”
Sharp screams began echoing from all directions, growing increasingly shrill.
Those who had started bare-handed, those who had cheered each other on moments before—all now drew weapons and began unleashing their techniques.
‘So there were some with sense after all.’
Far across the arena, a boy with a pitch-black sword strapped to his back and a hero’s headband wrapped around his forehead stood at the outer edge like Bu Eunseol, calmly observing the chaos.
“Hah!”
Then, a boy wielding a meteor hammer like lightning, toppling participants left and right, locked eyes with Bu Eunseol.
“…?”
Upon spotting the figure in the pitch-black funeral robe carrying a bamboo box, the boy flinched slightly.
But seeing how Bu Eunseol stood, he let out a derisive snort.
“What a pathetic wretch!”
Those trained in martial arts anchor their lower bodies firmly to the ground, regardless of their stance.
Seeing Bu Eunseol’s feet planted limply and bloodied, the boy immediately discerned that she had never trained in martial arts.
“Take this!”
With a shout, the silver meteor hammer flew at Bu Eunseol’s face like lightning.
Bu Eunseol instinctively leaned back,
and the hammer traced an arc through the air,
striking her back instead.
Crack!
The bamboo box shattered and fell to the ground.
As she rushed to retrieve it, the meteor hammer spun through the air again, aimed at the box.
Smash!
Inside the broken box lay a pitch-black garment.
It was the funeral robe Bu Chanyang had worn when conducting his own burial rites in life.
“Are you a robe merchant?”
The boy twirling the Meteor Hammer wore a sneer, yet Bu Eunseol’s gaze remained unwavering.
“You will die.”
“Haha. How amusing. You think you’ll kill me with that blade?”
Just as the boy’s sneer deepened,
A dull thud.
A sharp spearpoint erupted through the center of the boy’s chest with a sickening crunch.
“Ugh!”
Turning around, I saw a boy wielding a short spear, driving it forward with all his might.
It was Wi Woon Cheong—the one who had ambushed and killed Jeok Ryong moments before.
“You bastard…”
As the boy with the Meteor Hammer tried to move, Wi Woon Cheong swiftly twisted the spear and wrenched it free.
Blood gushed forth.
The boy, his chest pierced clean through, spat a clot of blood and collapsed lifeless.
Thud.
Bu Eunseol, gazing down at the fallen boy, murmured softly.
“That spear-wielder has been waiting for an opening to strike you this entire time.”
I had spotted the boy wielding the Meteor Hammer wildly and Wi Woon Cheong circling nearby, hunting for his moment.
In the end, I had simply positioned myself before the boy with the Meteor Hammer, inadvertently aiding Wi Woon Cheong.
“Hmph.”
Wi Woon Cheong, realizing this truth, let out a scoff directed at Bu Eunseol.
“Why did you help me?”
“It seemed inevitable that I would eventually face that one anyway.”
“I see. You haven’t learned martial arts.”
Wi Woon Cheong wore a contemptuous smile.
“Trash like you can be killed anytime.”
Having tasted the thrill of assassination, Wi Woon Cheong
wandered the Training Grounds, murdering the strong.
Since weaklings like Bu Eunseol could be slain whenever he wished, he turned away without hesitation.
But Wi Woon Cheong did not know that Bu Eunseol had anticipated his every move.
And that would prove to be a grave mistake.
* * *
“Still no one of note.”
Hyuk Ryeon Eung, watching from the Platform above, furrowed his brow.
In fact, it was he who had proposed this second examination.
Hyuk Ryeon Eung, an adherent of practical martial arts, had opposed the notion of selecting the Ten Demon Immortals based solely on bone structure.
―It is true that bone structure takes precedence in mastering superior martial arts. Yet one cannot judge the potential of a prodigy capable of reaching the pinnacle of Demonic Path martial arts by bone structure alone.
Respecting the opinion of the Grand Patriarch, they had established the second examination to select candidates for the Ten Demon Immortals anew.
“After removing those with superior bone structure, has the talent pool truly become this barren?”
Ting!
At that moment, a clear metallic ring echoed across the Martial Arts Arena.
A young boy wearing a hero’s headband drew a sword from his waist.
“The Blade of Refined Essence?”
Hyuk Ryeon Eung’s eyes narrowed.
The blade the boy in the hero’s headband had drawn was Muk Hon’s beloved sword, the Blade of Refined Essence, once called the First Blade of the Wanderer.
Regarded as one of the Four Great Blades under Heaven, the Blade of Refined Essence had vanished without a trace after Muk Hon’s death.
Yet this boy wearing the hero’s headband now wielded it?
“A disciple of Muk Hon, then.”
The refined, middle-aged man standing behind him—
Baek Jeon Cheon, the lord of Man Bak Dang, stepped forward and spoke.
“His name is Neung Woon Gang. It appears he discovered the secret techniques and sword that Muk Hon left behind in the Deep Mountain Valley.”
Man Bak Dang was a gathering place of exceptional talents, serving as the very mind of the Demon Hall.
Baek Jeon Cheon had committed to memory the details of all the numerous participants listed in the registry before the tournament began.
“In any case, since he has inherited Muk Hon’s legacy, he is effectively his disciple.”
“Then that beast will survive to the very end.”
“However, having learned the martial techniques from secret texts alone, his form remains rough.”
Baek Jeon Cheon pointed to Wi Woon Cheong among the fiercely battling participants.
“From what I observe, that child appears to be exceptionally talented.”
Wi Woon Cheong had grasped the martial prowess rankings of the participants in the Training Grounds faster than anyone else, and above all, showed no hesitation in deploying assassination techniques.
Such a temperament was well-suited to mastering the martial arts of the Demonic Path.
“That one will fall soon enough.”
“Pardon?”
“No matter how dire the situation—where allies are nonexistent and all must kill one another—if one goes about launching ambushes, one inevitably draws attention.”
Hyuk Ryeon Eung shook his head.
“Without the strength to face all enemies in the Training Grounds simultaneously, such tactics are foolish. Eventually, one becomes the target of every adversary.”
As if to support Hyuk Ryeon Eung’s words, Wi Woon Cheong’s ambushes began to fail with increasing frequency.
Moreover, the participants surrounding him began attacking Wi Woon Cheong with unified purpose.
‘He will die soon.’
Baek Jeon Cheon clicked his tongue in admiration at Hyuk Ryeon Eung’s sharp foresight.
“But is it truly necessary to select recruits through such brutal means? Surely there are talented individuals who would develop rapidly under proper martial instruction, without all this bloodshed.”
“The Elder Council said from the start that we need only select those with exceptional bone structure and talent. But do you know why I planned this second selection?”
“Ah… to find talented individuals who are strong in actual combat, even if their bone structure is somewhat lacking?”
“Not at all.”
Hyuk Ryeon Eung laughed softly and spoke.
“To reach the pinnacle of the Demonic Path’s martial arts, one needs not only exceptional bone structure, but also an innate sense and a killing intent fierce enough to overturn the heavens themselves.”
Hyuk Ryeon Eung, gazing at the boy in the hero’s headband, spoke with absolute certainty.
“And such things can only be seen in the crucible of extreme combat. Like that child there.”
“You mean Neung Woon Gang…?”
“Yes. With the instincts and killing intent of a beast, he will surely be the last one standing.”
At Hyuk Ryeon Eung’s bold proclamation, Baek Jeon Cheon smiled knowingly.
“Your words must be correct, having spent a lifetime in combat with others, Chief Instructor.”
However, Hyuk Ryeon Eung’s prediction was only half correct.
When the battle finally reached its conclusion, only two people remained standing in the Training Grounds.
* * *
The participants who had filled the Training Grounds like clouds were now mostly dead or dying from mortal wounds.
No matter how exquisite their martial arts, the participants were merely children—boys and girls no older than eighteen.
At an age where the very concept of death was foreign, surviving in a chaotic melee surrounded by enemies on all sides was impossible.
Even Wi Woon Cheong, who had prowled the Training Grounds and ambushed only the strongest, now lay as a cold corpse.
Thwack.
At that moment, Neung Woon Gang, who stood upright in the Training Grounds, shook the blood from his saber.
“How unexpected.”
Neung Woon Gang smiled faintly as he gazed at Bu Eunseol standing across from him.
“I never thought you’d survive until the end.”
Neung Woon Gang already knew the truth.
The Bu Eunseol standing before him possessed the weakest and most unremarkable martial prowess among all the participants who had filled the Training Grounds.
“If I just kill you now… I’ll become a candidate for the Ten Demon Immortals, won’t I?”
Despite Neung Woon Gang’s provocation, Bu Eunseol merely glared at him in silence.
“Heh heh.”
Neung Woon Gang let out a low chuckle and beckoned Bu Eunseol with a finger.
“Come at me.”
Thud thud.
Bu Eunseol, who had been desperately avoiding combat until now, slowly approached Neung Woon Gang.
This final confrontation could not be avoided.
Without defeating Neung Woon Gang, I could never become a candidate for the Ten Demon Immortals.
Click.
Setting down the broken bamboo box, Bu Eunseol drew the sword hanging from it.
Neung Woon Gang, watching this, bared his fangs in a grin.
“You’re insane.”
Despite the insulting provocation, Bu Eunseol did not respond and focused his concentration.
As I had circled the Training Grounds in secret, I had already sensed that Neung Woon Gang would be the last to survive.
‘That man is the strongest.’
Though his sword strikes appeared reckless and wild, each move contained subtle principles.
He defeated his enemies with difficulty, yet his skill grew with each passing moment.
I had instinctively recognized that Neung Woon Gang possessed the greatest strength among all participants in the Training Grounds.
And I had carefully observed—again and again—only the wounds left by those he had defeated.
‘I can definitely win.’
I had already discovered the flaws in Neung Woon Gang’s swordplay.
Moreover, he was underestimating me.
In real combat, a moment of carelessness determines life and death.
Especially now that Neung Woon Gang had assessed that I had not properly mastered martial arts, he would attack leisurely before moving to end my life.
“You certainly have ambitious dreams.”
Neung Woon Gang caught the glint of determination in Bu Eunseol’s eyes and smirked.
“Do you truly believe you can defeat me?”
A flash of light.
The darkened saber gleamed brilliantly as it cut through the air.
A sickening tear.
Fresh blood streamed from Bu Eunseol’s shoulder and right thigh as flesh split open.
“You have courage, but that alone won’t suffice.”
Neung Woon Gang had anticipated Bu Eunseol would leap away and dodge, so he had unleashed his technique accordingly.
Yet Bu Eunseol merely glared at him, standing motionless as though turned to stone.
“Ah, so you cannot evade? Hehehehe.”
Neung Woon Gang laughed lowly and swung his saber again.
A sharp whistle.
This time, flesh near Bu Eunseol’s shoulder was torn away.
Rather than simply cutting or piercing to kill, he had deliberately carved away only the shoulder muscle to inflict maximum suffering.
Drip. Drip.
Crimson blood fell in thick clots from where the flesh had been severed.
Yet Bu Eunseol stood unmoved, as though feeling no pain whatsoever.
“Hahaha! Are you too terrified to move?”
Like a cat toying with a mouse, each swing of Neung Woon Gang’s blade painted Bu Eunseol’s robes a deeper crimson.
Blood dripped steadily.
Despite the dark fabric of the monastic robes, the red blood had soaked through completely.
Bu Eunseol’s appearance had become like a snowman painted with black and red pigment.
“A pathetic blade.”
Bu Eunseol spoke in a low voice, her entire body save for her eyes drenched in blood.
“It merely shaves away flesh, nothing more.”
“What did you say?”
In that instant, a cold gleam flashed across Neung Woon Gang’s eyes.
“Are you begging for a swift death?”
A thick murderous aura shimmered like heat haze from Neung Woon Gang’s gaze as he gripped his saber.
He had resolved to finish Bu Eunseol with his most brutal and precise technique.
‘It comes!’
The moment Bu Eunseol detected Neung Woon Gang twisting his grip on the saber, she raised her blade to the center position.
‘This is my only chance!’
Bu Eunseol had long studied the scars left upon those who fell to Neung Woon Gang.
She had discovered a fatal flaw in the killing technique he favored.
‘Below the knees.’
When he extended his blade, it appeared to envelop the opponent completely, yet in truth he only attacked above the knees.
‘No martial master would prostrate themselves flat to evade an attack.’
“Now!”
Neung Woon Gang unleashed his killing technique as he rushed forward with his movement art.
Flash!
As brilliant light poured down, Bu Eunseol had no time to think—her body moved like lightning, flattening itself against the ground.
Whoosh.
A sharp blade whistled past overhead, and strands of her disheveled hair scattered down like rain.
‘Now!’
Bu Eunseol sprang up like a freshly caught carp and drove her sword with all her strength into Neung Woon Gang’s Tiantu point.
―The Tiantu point is a place even masters of the outer schools find difficult to cultivate.
―Isn’t that where street performers place their blades?
―Haha. That’s only because they press the blade slowly against the throat. Even a child’s forceful strike can render an adult unconscious—it’s a vital point indeed.
Thud.
A dull sound echoed out, followed by a strangled cry.
“Ugh.”
Neung Woon Gang’s mouth fell open, his eyes bulging wide.
The old sword had been driven straight into his Tiantu point, just below his larynx.
“Ack, ack…”
Even though the blade had been forged to ward off spirits, its edge was still sharp.
Drip.
As crimson blood trickled from the sword embedded beneath his larynx, Neung Woon Gang, who had been uttering strangled gasps,
collapsed.
breathed his last.
At that very moment, the loud clang of a gong rang out.
The second trial had ended.
“…”
But as the completely unexpected result unfolded, the Platform fell into a silence as profound as death itself.
“Is it over?”
Bu Eunseol, looking up at Hyuk Ryeon Eung and Baek Jeon Cheon standing on the Platform, spoke.
“Or are there more trials to come?”
With her body drenched in blood and her eyes gleaming fiercely, Bu Eunseol resembled a rakshasa that had clawed its way up from the depths of hell itself.

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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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