The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign - Chapter 835

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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 835.
“I was asking whether it would be fair to say that you have now fulfilled the conditions the Alliance Leader mentioned?”
When Seon Woo Jin—no, So Ok Rim asked again, Yeop Hyo Cheon suppressed the fury threatening to burst forth and forced a smile.
“Of course. Thanks to you, I’ve gained new insight.”
Yeop Hyo Cheon swallowed a bitter laugh and nodded.
“And I shall honor my promise.”
“Thank you.”
So Ok Rim shrugged her shoulders.
Though she had reduced her frame through bone-shrinking techniques, there remained an undeniable aura of tyrannical strength and imposing presence.
“Then.”
With a respectful bow, she turned sharply and descended from the Combat Stage.
“That person is quite formidable.”
It was then that Bu Eunseol spoke.
“Her strength appears to have grown even beyond her battle with Geom Ma.”
“Was Ryeong Ju present for that duel as well?”
“How could I have missed such a confrontation? I used a concealment technique and watched in secret.”
Bu Eunseol took a deep breath and murmured softly.
“I must train even harder now….”
He shook his head and offered Yeop Hyo Cheon a smile, clasping his hands respectfully.
“Thank you for arranging such an opportunity.”
That smile revealed the unmistakable joy of a young sect leader who had encountered a formidable new rival.
“Your gratitude brings me satisfaction.”
Yeop Hyo Cheon concealed the ache within his chest.
As though he had orchestrated the duel between Seon Woo Jin and Bu Eunseol for the latter’s benefit, he nodded with apparent contentment.
“I trust this confrontation will yield considerable gains.”
“Thank you. Then.”
As Bu Eunseol turned to leave as well.
Yeop Hyo Cheon’s expression, which had been beaming with smiles, turned ice-cold.
“Did those fools speak carelessly?”
The Murim Alliance had sent him a covert letter.
It stated that Bu Eunseol and Seon Woo Jin were the same person, and that he would certainly come to the Demon Palace to consult on this matter.
―The fact that they sent this information to me rather than to the Lord of Jeonju means….
At that time, Yeop Hyo Cheon had been overjoyed.
Because it meant they understood.
Not only that he was constantly watching for an opportunity to eliminate Ma Cheon Je.
But also that he desired to have Bu Eunseol within his grasp.
If the two were indeed the same person, he would immediately possess leverage to control him.
In the end, he had believed the letter and, after much deliberation, arranged for Bu Eunseol and Seon Woo Jin to duel.
But it was flawless.
Which meant either Bu Eunseol and Seon Woo Jin were absolutely not the same person.
Or perhaps Bu Eunseol had a subordinate who had achieved martial prowess equal to her own.
The latter possibility was nearly nonexistent.
In the end, I had merely been played by their machinations.
“So that is why the Alliance Lord ceased to concern himself with the matter.”
Seon Woo Jin no longer operated within the Murim Alliance.
Whether Bu Eunseol was Seon Woo Jin, or truly someone else entirely…
Now there was no one who could concern themselves with it, nor could anyone bind him through the use of a dual identity.
Perhaps Ma Cheon Je had perceived
that Bu Eunseol would perfectly prove her identity regardless of whatever crisis she faced.
And thus he had ceased investigating Seon Woo Jin’s whereabouts and movements.
Moreover, he had accomplished things I had long deemed impossible, displaying movements that defied all prediction and understanding.
“No, there is still an opportunity.”
Yeop Hyo Cheon recalled something, and a faint smile graced his lips.
“That old demon has begun a new Absolute Demon Blade Plan….”
A cruel smile twisted across his grinning mouth.
“All the better. When that occurs, my own plans shall gradually reach completion.”
With a slight twist of his lips, he slowly turned his body.
* * *
Each time the wind swept through the leaves, it whispered soft murmurs that rippled through the air.
Upon a towering mountain peak that seemed to touch the clouds, a small hermitage stood.
The weathered hermitage bore the unmistakable marks of countless ages, and the surrounding area was suffused with a tranquility that transcended the passage of time.
Before the temple hall, perched at the edge of a sheer cliff, stretched a stone path softly carpeted with moss.
At the end of the stone steps leading upward stood an Old Monk, his face as wrinkled as tree bark.
The Old Monk’s expression was serene, and his eyes were transparent and clear.
He entered the temple hall and stood before a window overlooking the vast cliff, closing his eyes.
He breathed quietly, his eyes half-closed as though in meditation.
His inner energy was so profound that with each breath he drew, the surrounding air was pulled into the temple hall.
“What brings you here?”
Then the Old Monk’s lips slowly parted as he emerged from his meditation.
“That you would seek me out.”
As those words ended, the shadow of a man in white robes suddenly materialized before the temple hall.
As though he had always been there, his presence was natural and utterly composed.
Yet his eyes burned like an active volcano, blazing with intensity.
Geum Jeong Shin Ryong, Baek Mu Sung.
He had suddenly arrived at this deep mountain temple.
“Hmm.”
The Old Monk did not turn his head.
Instead, he gazed at the vast landscape visible through the open window and clicked his tongue.
“Your energy has become turbid in the meantime. I scarcely recognize you.”
“Master.”
Baek Mu Sung spoke to his master,
the Old Monk Bul Jon, who was called a living legend of the Orthodox Sects.
“Is it true that the only reason you brought me here was as a means to buy time?”
Those few words carried countless layers of meaning.
Bul Jon turned away without moving a muscle and fell silent.
*Clench.*
Baek Mu Sung’s eyes burned hot as charcoal as his fists tightened.
If he did not receive an answer,
he had come prepared to force one from his master.
“You have become an assassin.”
Then Bul Jon opened his mouth.
“To synchronize your breathing perfectly with the wind that blows intermittently—”
“Please answer me.”
“Has your desperation grown so keen that you have forged a blade from your very heart?”
“I am asking for an answer.”
Bul Jon sighed and spoke in a low voice, as if reciting.
“Yes.”
At that blunt reply, Baek Mu Sung’s eyes dimmed slightly, and the corners flickered.
But he quickly steadied himself and asked again.
“Why?”
“Because the cycle of misfortune must be broken.”
Bul Jon spoke calmly, his body still turned away.
“At first, I truly believed you were his bloodline. You were the sole survivor of the Saha Chamber then. You had lost your memories and have not recovered them to this day.”
Bul Jon paused briefly before continuing.
“But you were not.”
“So you sent me wandering through Gangho? Never to be found again?”
“Yes. The greater your renown becomes, the more formidable your martial prowess—the more they will harbor suspicion and conduct endless investigations into you.”
Bul Jon spoke with a sigh.
“In doing so, I could buy that much more time.”
In truth, Baek Mu Sung had known for a long time.
His master Bul Jon had never truly regarded him as a disciple.
He had merely used him as bait and cast him out into Gangho.
Yet he had not minded.
During his travels through Gangho, he had conducted himself with integrity, and as Bul Jon’s disciple and a lay disciple of Shaolin, he had brought no shame.
He had believed that if he did this, his master would look upon him again.
He had thought his master would devote himself entirely to nurturing him instead of pursuing plans like the Absolute Demon Path.
But that was a delusion.
Bul Jon had never cared what he did from the beginning. No—he had never taken interest at all.
Because of this, inferiority and anxiety accumulated in his heart.
He was not Bul Jon’s disciple—merely a tool to divert attention.
Perhaps due to such inferiority complex, I had never been able to reveal myself honestly.
Instead, I lived a life of pretense—feigning generosity, masquerading as a good person, wearing masks of false virtue.
“Is this about the Absolute Demon Blade Plan?”
At Baek Mu Sung’s direct question, Bul Jon nodded readily.
“Yes.”
“You’re saying you made me a scapegoat to revive that already-failed plan?”
“You understand nothing.”
“I do understand.”
*Clang.*
Baek Mu Sung drew the great sword from his back as he spoke.
“Because I’ve learned the same demonic techniques as Chil Ji Ma Do.”
“Hehehehe. Is that what they told you? That the Absolute Demon Blade Plan births an absolute master to prevent those who would bring annihilation?”
“Isn’t it?”
“No. I’ll tell you the complete truth now.”
Bul Jon withdrew his gaze from the window and slowly turned his body.
“The true purpose of the Absolute Demon Blade Plan is not to punish the evil that destroys the world—it is to eliminate its source.”
“The source.”
“Yes. To accomplish that, I must first eliminate Baek Pal Sung.”
At this unexpected answer, Baek Mu Sung’s eyes widened.
“If all of Baek Pal Sung disappear, the proxy war between Baek Ri Ga and Jin Ma will cease as well.”
“What do you mean—”
“The Thirty-Six Heavenly Generals have always been those who inherited Baek Ri Ga’s will and opposed Jin Ma. The Seventy-Two Earthly Assassins were those who inherited Jin Ma’s will and threw Murim into chaos as proxies.”
Bul Jon stood tall in the temple hall, looking down at Baek Mu Sung as he spoke.
“In other words, the reason we sought to birth the Absolute Demon Blade was to kill Baek Pal Sung.”
A silence as profound as death hung in the air.
The Absolute Demon Blade—known as a plan to eliminate Cheon Am Seong, who brings annihilation.
To think it was actually a plan to silence Baek Pal Sung forever?
“What does it matter if the bloodline is severed or not? They’ll survive anyway.”
At Baek Mu Sung’s question, Bul Jon shook his head.
“According to Mo Ryun’s words, the Thirty-Six Heavenly Generals are connected to Baek Ri Ga’s fate, and the Seventy-Two Earthly Assassins are connected to Jin Ma’s fate.”
Bul Jon’s eyes narrowed to invisible slits.
“In other words, if we kill them all, both Baek Ri Ga and Jin Ma will weaken.”
He shook his head while gazing at the great sword Baek Mu Sung carried.
“And what makes this possible is precisely the Blood Dew Seven Techniques. However, its true power can only be wielded by Chil Ji Ma Do Bu Chanyang alone.”
“….”
“Moreover, with the complete technique lost, and even if one mastered both the complete technique and the blade method, only he—and no one else—can ever unleash such power.”
Bul Jon asked, looking at Baek Mu Sung.
“Do you know why?”
“I don’t.”
“The Blood Dew Seven Techniques requires one to completely understand and embody death. Like a devoted monk continuing his practice, one must endlessly contemplate the koan of death itself.”
Bul Jon spoke.
“That is why it is useless unless Bu Chanyang and the spirit that endlessly witnessed the deaths of others and yearned for its own death align perfectly.”
The Absolute Demon Blade Plan.
In the end, it was a scheme connected to the Baek Ri Family and Jin Ma—a plan to completely annihilate Baek Pal Sung.
‘They are trying to manipulate me in secret.’
Baek Mu Sung sensed that Bul Jon’s words were not the complete truth.
Even if they were true, there would certainly be another truth hidden beneath the surface.
‘Just like that Sam Gye.’
The existence of the Baek Ri Family and Jin Ma
was known only to an extremely small number of people even within Sam Gye.
And I myself could barely hear of it only after becoming the Mu Cheon Danjoo.
Yet I have never once heard the truth of the Absolute Demon Blade Plan or the secrets of the Blood Dew Seven Techniques.
In other words, Bul Jon was not giving me information—he was trying to say this instead.
—You are merely being used by them.
“Do you think I might change my mind?”
At Baek Mu Sung’s question, Bul Jon smiled broadly.
“Not at all.”
“Then why tell me such things?”
“Because you are not a child meant to serve in that place.”
Bul Jon already knew that Baek Mu Sung had entered Sam Gye.
He also suspected that Baek Mu Sung would not obey them willingly.
‘Has he become a demon of old age?’
Crunch.
Baek Mu Sung clenched his fists tightly.
Bul Jon. He was no longer a sage of the Buddhist Order.
Having lived far too long like a demon and survived, he had become a phantom trapped in the desires of age.
Had it been otherwise, he would have at least tried to dissuade me from entering Sam Gye.
He would have at least created an opportunity for me to survive as a human being.
But as if it mattered not what trials his former disciple endured,
he merely watched with interest, as if observing something most entertaining.
“So I was nothing but a puppet.”
The tone of Baek Mu Sung’s lowered voice changed.
No longer addressing a master he had long revered, but rather an adversary met in Gangho—his words became utterly cold and arrogant.
“I understand now.”
Rip.
And he tore his sleeve.
“From this day forward, I sever the bond between master and disciple.”
Thud.
Throwing the torn fabric at Bul Jon’s feet, he spoke with an expression of utmost solemnity.
“We are no longer connected in any way.”
“How pure you are. You always have been.”
Bul Jon sighed deeply.
“What does the bond between master and disciple matter in circumstances like these?”
His answer was cold and blunt.
Baek Mu Sung’s body trembled once more.
It was not from disappointment or betrayal.
Emptiness.
From the beginning, I was never truly a disciple.
I was merely a loyal expendable tool for executing Bul Jon’s plans.
“I thank you.”
Baek Mu Sung stared directly at Bul Jon.
“For severing even the last lingering attachment I had.”
Then I continued.
“And out of the affection I once held as your disciple, I have come to reveal certain truths.”
“What truths?”
“The Mountain Temple’s Gak Ju, Mok Do In.”
Baek Mu Sung spoke calmly.
“He who manages the Yeongak Dojeon of the Murim Alliance is the very one who annihilated Blood Shaolin.”
I had entered Sam Gye and discovered one shocking truth.
That Mok Do In existed beyond Sam Gye, on the path above it.
He was the figure who conveyed the will of those who maintained the balance of Murim, and the representative who enforced the covenants they imposed.
And he was Hyung Su, who had once swept away every soul of Blood Shaolin.
Because the personality of Baek Mu Sung still remained within me, I had intended to reveal this truth to Bul Jon.
“Your heart remains soft.”
Bul Jon shook his head.
“You thought that if you revealed such a truth, you might be recognized as a disciple once more, did you not?”
“Is that so?”
“It is not what you claim, but what Baek Mu Sung’s true heart desires.”
He gazed at Baek Mu Sung with eyes that gleamed with mysterious radiance.
“Or perhaps you calculated that even if that were not the case, you could provoke a collision between them and Bin Seung.”
In that instant, the smile that had lingered at the corners of my mouth vanished completely.
Upon seeing Bul Jon’s expression, I grasped a terrifying truth.
“He could not have been ignorant…”
Bul Jon, who could be called the living history of Murim across two hundred years…
Could not possibly have been unaware of Hyung Su’s true identity.
“It was only natural. After all, it was the place that nurtured Chil Ji Ma Do.”
No—Bul Jon was no different from Hyung Su’s accomplice.
He had merely stood by and watched as Blood Shaolin was annihilated.
“Did you truly believe Bin Seung remained ignorant of such matters until now?”
Upon hearing those words, Baek Mu Sung nearly burst into hollow laughter.
Bul Jon was no mere old demon.
He merely wore the mask of a benevolent Buddhist sage.
He had become a new monster that had never appeared in Murim until now.
“I shall take my leave.”
Baek Mu Sung turned his body.
“We shall not meet again.”
But at that moment,
Whoosh.
Two shadows rose from the ground before him, materializing as if emerging from the earth itself.
Both wore masks. The one on the left was a muscular man wearing distinctive metal gauntlets.
The one on the right was a young woman bearing twin swords that gleamed with an enigmatic radiance.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“The new Absolute Demon Blade Plan has nearly reached completion.”
Bul Jon gestured toward the two figures as he spoke.
“This time, we shall not repeat the mistakes of the past.”
And he spoke in a low voice.
“Now that you have come this far, demonstrate what you have learned from Sam Gye.”
“You wish to gauge Sam Gye’s strength through me?”
“Do not worry. I have no intention of killing you.”
“Because I was once your disciple?”
“That cannot be.”
Bul Jon smiled with affection.
“You must remain alive so that I can more closely monitor Sam Gye’s movements.”
Monitoring Sam Gye’s movements is difficult.
But tracking the actions of Baek Mu Sung, whom I have cultivated for so long, is not difficult at all.
Even now, still…
Bul Jon regarded Baek Mu Sung as nothing more than a disposable tool.
“Hehehehe.”
Baek Mu Sung lowered his head,
“Hahahaha!”
Then burst into raucous laughter toward the sky.
Since becoming Bul Jon’s disciple, my entire life had been shrouded in falsehood.
No, there was no truth to begin with.
My bloodline as a member of the Baek Ri Family was false, and being Bul Jon’s disciple was false.
Even the martial arts I had learned thus far.
Were false—merely arbitrary distortions of Shaolin’s techniques, not Bul Jon’s true secret arts.
Crack.
A sound like breaking bone emanated from Baek Mu Sung’s face.
His skin darkened as if stained, and even the shape of his eyes and the color of his irises began to shift.
Crunch.
At last, with Baek Mu Sung’s physique hardening to steel,
“Very well.”
A sharp metallic ring.
He drew the great sword strapped across his back in one fluid motion.
“There is no need for further words.”
A thunderous boom!
Black mist erupted in all directions with the tremor that shook the earth itself.
In the next instant, the air tore asunder as a torrent of sword qi rained down upon both men.
Baek Mu Sung had unleashed his distinctive Swift Sword Continuous Ring technique.
A metallic clash.
The Masked Man stepped forward as the sword qi descended, waving his metal-gauntleted hand with deceptive lightness.
An imperceptible, formless power spread forth in an instant, its form and method strikingly similar to Shaolin’s Arhat Divine Fist.
A tremendous crash!
As sword qi and fist power collided,
a deafening explosion erupted, sharp shockwaves scraped across the ground, and lightning seemed to descend from the heavens.
A sharp sound!
Baek Mu Sung and the Masked Man rushed toward each other as if by mutual agreement.
The two closed the distance and engaged in relentless close-quarters combat.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
As Baek Mu Sung wielded his great sword, his hair stood on end, and his eyes blazed with a fire that could melt steel itself.
In contrast, the Masked Man’s gaze remained frozen with icy coldness, his movements possessed of extreme precision.
Whenever Baek Mu Sung unleashed his sword qi, the Masked Man
defended with exquisite precision using his metal gauntlets, never allowing a single strike to pass.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Having blocked every torrent of sword qi that rained down like drops of water, the Masked Man suddenly spread his metal-gauntleted hand.
A piercing radiance shot forth toward Baek Mu Sung’s chest.
“Hmph.”
Baek Mu Sung snorted derisively and split the radiance asunder.
The chest was the most heavily defended point of any martial artist, so no matter how subtle the technique, it could not be breached.
A violent explosion!
Yet in that moment, Baek Mu Sung’s body was sent sliding backward with a thunderous boom.
He had clearly defended perfectly against the radiance the Masked Man unleashed.
Yet suddenly, with the explosion, a sharp needle-like pain pierced through his shoulder blades and ribs.
“To move your body even after exposure to Penetrating Bone True Qi—it seems you have received the great teachings of Cheonghae Realm.”
Bul Jon clicked his tongue, then nodded toward the Masked Woman who stood watching silently.
At that signal, the Masked Woman immediately drew her twin blades.
A sharp metallic ring!
And she began slashing wildly—not at Baek Mu Sung, but at the ground itself.
Sharp sounds of impact!
With each strike, blood began to flow from Baek Mu Sung’s body on the wind of her blades.
She was not firing sword energy outward.
Instead, she was using the ground as a medium to strike sword energy directly into her opponent’s body—
a bizarre technique that had never been seen in Murim.
Crack!
Baek Mu Sung, having discerned the woman’s method, immediately launched his body into the air.
Then the Masked Man, as if he had been waiting for this moment, unleashed thirteen cannon-like fist strikes.
Since Baek Mu Sung was suspended in midair, even if he managed to block them,
the principles of martial arts dictated he would inevitably suffer losses.
Whoosh.
Yet as Baek Mu Sung hung in the void, black mist began to coalesce across his entire body,
Shwooooosh!
and sword energy as fine and sharp as raindrops began to pour down like a torrential downpour.
It was a variation of the first technique of the Blood Dew Seven Techniques—Life Bestows, Death Returns.
Thud.
Yet something extraordinary occurred.
Suddenly the two figures merged their bodies together, becoming as if a single entity,
Flash!
and a blinding light spread forth that seemed to erase the entire world.
Finally, as that white radiance faded,
Thump.
Baek Mu Sung, who had been suspended in the air, landed on the ground in an instant.
Just as he was about to rise again, still gripping his great sword,
Click.
The masked pair had already pressed their weapons against his throat.
In that moment, all focus drained from Baek Mu Sung’s eyes.
Despite wielding the Blood Dew Seven Techniques of Chil Ji Ma Do Bu Chanyang, who was called absolutely invincible…
he had been utterly defeated by the bizarre martial arts these two had employed.

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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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