The Heavenly Demon of the Blue Sky - Chapter 68

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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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Azure Heavenly Demon: Episode 068
Within the Barrier.
Before Jang Ho of the Beggar Clan and Hye Gwang of Shaolin approached the merciless enemy they had hoped never to face—Eon Gi Mu, the Grand Elder of the Jinjueon Clan—his heavy footfalls drawing nearer with each step.
“Grrrraahhh…….”
A bestial, murky cry; a face twisted grotesquely, drained of blood; and eyes ablaze with crimson light, stripped of all reason.
Confronted with that ghastly visage, Jang Ho and Hye Gwang barely suppressed the rising sorrow and hollow ache within them, gripping their weapons—the Dog-Beating Staff and Long Staff—more firmly.
Jang Ho planted the end of his staff heavily upon the ground and spoke in a low, measured voice.
“Master lived his entire life devoted to righteousness and honor, both as a warrior of the Martial World and as a man of principle.”
Hye Gwang, too, pressed his palms together in veneration, his voice trembling as he continued.
“Amitabha Buddha. Because that upright path became a beacon for so many in the Martial World, when Master passed from this life, our junior disciples at the Jinjueon Clan filled the gates with mourners who grieved alongside us.”
Though the Corpse Demon before them could not hear, the two spoke from their hearts to the master who had once given them unconditional instruction.
“We ourselves witnessed Master closing his eyes peacefully, holding only the goodness of his life in this world. Yet now, ensnared by the loathsome Blood Cult Sorcery of Evil Spirits, his buried form has risen again, condemned to terrible agony…….”
Both men turned toward Eon Gi Mu with resolute eyes, their weapons raised to strike.
The sorrow that had filled their gaze was now overlaid with a steely determination.
“We swear that we shall return Master to peace and rest.”
Crash! Before their vow had fully left their lips, Eon Gi Mu shattered the marble floor beneath him and charged forward.
Though dead and robbed of reason, his body followed the instinct carved into his very bones, assuming the perfect opening posture of the Jinjueon Wave Fist, one of the Jinjueon Clan’s supreme martial arts.
“Hyah!”
Jang Ho unfolded the Seven-Inch Strike of Snake, the opening technique of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique, targeting Eon Gi Mu’s knee joint with precision.
Simultaneously, Hye Gwang split the very air with a strike of the Dharma Staff Technique, bringing his staff down with crushing force upon Eon Gi Mu’s crown.
Thud, clang—!
Yet their combined assault, poured with all their strength, struck nothing but the iron-hard flesh of Eon Gi Mu’s forearms, producing only a dull metallic ring.
“Graaahhhh!”
Eon Gi Mu leaped skyward and unleashed the Giant Rock Shattering of the Jinjueon Wave Fist.
“Nngh!”
Hye Gwang’s body could not withstand the tremendous impact and flew backward more than a dozen paces.
Jang Ho moved to recover his staff and mount a defense, but Eon Gi Mu, possessing the savage speed of his prime years, burrowed directly into his guard.
He unleashed the Mountain Collapse Earth Fissure of the Jinjueon Wave Fist in rapid succession.
Crack, boom!
The Dog-Beating Staff shattered uselessly and Jang Ho crashed to the ground.
“Cough……!”
Blood spilled from Jang Ho’s mouth, staining his jaw crimson.
Eon Gi Mu, honed into an upper-tier Corpse Demon, felt neither fatigue nor pain.
Had it not been for the restraining power of the Taiyi Wall-Breaking Great Formation laid down by the Jegal Clan, that single blow would have snapped his neck clean—an overwhelming difference in strength that should have meant instant death.
Like those distant childhood days, rolling helplessly across a summer courtyard, despair and helplessness now engulfed them both.
A despondency so profound that surrender would not have been strange swept over them. And yet.
“Get up, beggar.”
“Don’t worry, monk.”
Jang Ho and Hye Gwang, though unsteady, clawed their way to their feet with stubborn resolve.
The breaking of their weapons had not shattered the determination in their hearts.
They fixed their gaze upon Eon Gi Mu as he prepared to charge once more.
“The Martial World without Master remains fierce and cruel. There were times when we were swept up in that current, shrinking and adrift.”
Jang Ho wiped the blood from his swollen lips and spoke softly.
“But that is no longer true. For now we have found an exemplar just as worthy—the Clan Head of Namgung.”
Hye Gwang nodded and continued.
“Though born with a frail and delicate frame, he never once surrendered. Through only steadfast resolve and relentless effort, he rebuilt this magnificent foundation. Inspired by that magnificent figure, we too have pledged to bear one of the pillars of Namgung.”
Jang Ho clenched his fists tightly.
“The peace and harmony of the Martial World that Master so desired—we have now taken up that very purpose here at Namgung, however humbly, and will honor it. How then could we not pour every ounce of our strength into protecting this precious sanctuary!”
With unshakeable resolve, Hye Gwang and Jang Ho turned to face each other rather than the Corpse Demon.
Across more than a decade, that small, familiar smile of childhood bloomed once more upon both their faces.
“See? If we quarrel out of pride, we’ll be helpless just like this. The one we face is our former Master, whom we never once managed to defeat.”
“Amitabha Buddha, my thoughts exactly. This is a trial we cannot overcome alone. Then.”
Both men recalled in an instant the words their childhood Master, Eon Gi Mun, had once taught them.
With a companion willing to give their life, there is no battle, however daunting, that cannot be won—no darkness so complete that victory remains impossible.
Jang Ho drew without hesitation a worn Gourd Bottle from his waist.
“This is the precious Bamboo Leaf Green we offered at Master’s grave! Now even this foolish boy has become a true man who understands the elegance of wine and dance!”
Jang Ho drained the liquor from the Gourd Bottle in one draught, then swayed as he assumed the opening posture of the Drunken Fist, a secret art of the Beggar Clan.
At the same moment, Hye Gwang tore away his ragged monastic robes, revealing the bronzed, muscular frame earned through years of arduous training.
“These are the weighty beads I have borne, given strength by the courage Master bestowed. Now I shall use them to shatter Master’s torment.”
Hye Gwang unwound the enormous One Hundred Eight Prayer Beads hanging from his neck and wrapped them tightly around both forearms, then assumed the stance of the Vajra Fist, the combat art of the Arhat Hall.
“Roooaaarrr!”
Eon Gi Mu hurled his massive frame forward once more, bearing down upon them both.
But this time, things were different.
“Duck!”
At Jang Ho’s cry, Hye Gwang crouched low, and Jang Ho planted his feet upon the other’s back, vaulting upward to catch Eon Gi Mu’s jaw with an unorthodox kick from the Drunken Fist.
As Eon Gi Mu stumbled and moved to deliver a fierce counterattack, Hye Gwang surged up in turn, crossing his arms—both wound with prayer beads—to absorb the blow instead.
Crash!
Alone, it would have shattered bone; but with their backs pressed together, sharing their strength, they could withstand it.
Whoosh—!
Jang Ho drew upon the Fire Drunken Technique of the Beggar Clan, which he had awakened through the Clan Head’s guidance.
Channeling his inner energy through the potent Bamboo Leaf Green held in his mouth, he expelled it in a stream of crimson flame that blazed outward, obscuring Eon Gi Mu’s vision.
“Now!”
With his sight cut off, Eon Gi Mu flailed his arms instinctively—and in that instant, Hye Gwang unleashed the prayer beads wound around his limbs with terrifying speed.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The subtle mysteries of the Heavenly Net One Hundred Eight Bind, infused with the power of Demon Suppression, melded into the fist technique, striking at his meridian points while the strand of beads coiled like serpents around his massive limbs, temporarily binding them.
Dozens of exchanges followed—the free-flowing Drunken Fist alternating with precise Vajra Fist strikes.
Two entirely different schools, two utterly distinct natures of martial art, yet they interlocked like gears, perfectly compensating for each other’s weaknesses.
And there was but one reason this was possible.
Woven into the very framework of their fist techniques was the foundation that Eon Gi Mu had painstakingly built within them through those summer-soaked days of sweat and labor.
The small seedling that their senior had nurtured with such care and affection—now, having weathered countless tempests, it had finally unfurled into such radiant, towering leaves.
Jang Ho and Hye Gwang felt an electric thrill course through them as they understood instinctively.
Here, standing upon the solid foundation of old times, with perfect faith now layered atop it, the Corpse Demon before them was neither a fearful foe nor an unstoppable calamity.
“Sleep well.”
Now was the moment to reveal the fruits they had won through their fierce exchanges with the Clan Head.
Jang Ho flowed backward with the suppleness of one drinking wine, evading the enemy’s assault even as his opposite fist, which had lingered below, swept upward from behind his hip in a steep arc toward the jaw.
It was as if a hidden dragon had surged up from behind a wine cup—
The Hidden Dragon Behind the Cup, the supreme expression of Drunken Fist.
Boom!
A great flame-wreathed dragon seemed to erupt, piercing through Eon Gi Mu’s jaw and hurling his massive body skyward.
Seizing that instant, Hye Gwang vaulted upward, gathering all One Hundred Eight Prayer Beads from both arms to concentrate upon his right forearm, drawing the golden radiance of Buddha’s Heart to its absolute limit.
“Namo Amitabha Buddha!”
Toward the heart of the airborne Eon Gi Mu, Hye Gwang’s palm descended in a mighty strike.
The Great Sun Tathagata Seal—the supreme expression of Vajra Fist.
An achievement born of daily practice within the Namgung clan, perfected through relentless discipline.
Crack—!!
As the supreme technique erupted with all his might, Eon Gi Mu’s massive frame was driven deep into the earth, gouging a crater several feet wide and deep into the courtyard.
“Hah… hah…”
Utterly exhausted, Hye Gwang lacked even the strength to twitch a finger as he plummeted from the air—and Jang Ho, staggering forward, barely managed to catch him.
Both men, breathing heavily, turned their gaze toward the pit as the dust settled.
“No…”
Jang Ho’s voice trembled.
Despite his body shattered and broken, his chest caved in, Eon Gi Mu was lurching to his feet once more.
“Grrrrgh…”
Dragging legs that would scarcely obey, he crept slowly toward Jang Ho and Hye Gwang.
Already bereft of all strength, barely able to lift a single foot, the two could only cling to each other and watch as Eon Gi Mu raised his hand.
“Is… is this the end?”
Just as they believed their skulls were about to be crushed, that very instant—
Crumble.
Beginning from Eon Gi Mu’s crown, his entire form began to crumble into ash, scattering upon the wind.
Jang Ho and Hye Gwang’s supreme techniques had already utterly destroyed both the Corpse Demon’s body and the root of the Blood Cult Sorcery, dealing a fatal blow.
Thump.
As Eon Gi Mu’s massive frame toppled forward, it appeared to embrace Jang Ho and Hye Gwang, who stood paralyzed, with both arms wrapped around them.
“Ah…”
In that fleeting moment.
The sinister crimson light that had filled Eon Gi Mu’s eyes began to fade.
And at the same time, his pallid lips, rigid for so long, curved ever so slightly upward.
As if watching his junior disciples, having grown so splendidly and struck a telling blow against him, he felt an overwhelming pride and affection—the way one might feel on a late-summer afternoon.
With a gentle, warm breeze of fading summer, Eon Gi Mu’s remains scattered into a handful of ash.
“Master!”
Jang Ho and Hye Gwang reached out desperately, grasping at empty air.
But all that remained in their calloused hands was a single fragment of tattered robe—just as it had been on that distant day.
They collapsed to their knees, their eyes fixed on the torn cloth in a daze.
Their Master’s wandering spirit had finally found peace, and in that final moment, he had shown them his smile.
“Ugh…….”
They clamped their teeth hard against their lips, barely holding back the scalding tears that threatened to spill.
As if bound by an unspoken pact, they tore the last tattered robe their Master had left in half and wrapped it tightly around their foreheads.
“It isn’t over yet, young priest. Can you still go on?”
“The monk shall lead. Just keep your eyes forward and follow.”
Supporting each other, the two men rose from the ground with great effort.
Their inner reserves were depleted, yet their hearts had never felt more resolute.
“Here stand Jang Ho and Hye Gwang, the proud disciples of Elder Eon Gi Mu! Who would dare to stand against us?”
Their fierce roar split the battlefield, and without hesitation, they threw themselves once more into the chaos of battle.

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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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