Fist Demon of Mount Hua Episode 6

If There Are Things That Change, There Are Also Things That Do Not 3

“You’ve summoned to the True Martial Palace.”

A boy who looked about thirteen or fourteen years old was staring at Dam-ho. It was Won-yul, a second-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect.

Although there was only a two- or three-year age gap between them, the difference in generation was significant. Dam-ho was a first-generation disciple, while Won-yul was a second-generation disciple. By rank, Won-yul was his junior. Yet the look in Won-yul’s eyes was anything but respectful.

The corner of Won-yul’s lips twisted upward.

This cripple is supposed to be my senior brother? I’ll never accept that.

Dam-ho didn’t know it, but his nickname within the Mount Hua Sect was crippled mut—a dog that cannot run.

It was a mocking reference to his limp.

Many of the first-generation disciples believed that Dam-ho had simply been fortunate enough to attain the same rank as them. As for the second-generation disciples, they refused to acknowledge someone their own age as senior.

Mount Hua was a sect that pursued strength above all else. It was especially renowned throughout the land for its swordplay. In such a sect, it was not easy to accept Dam-ho, who could not even properly perform a single sword technique due to his inborn condition.

More importantly, Dam-ho rarely interacted with the other disciples. Normally, a first-generation disciple would instruct the second generation, but Dam-ho almost never showed himself. His absence only deepened their misunderstandings.

Many disciples believed he was receiving special treatment without deserving it. Though they were forced to acknowledge his seniority due to the sect hierarchy, they refused to address him as senior brother.

It was a matter of pride for Won-yul and the other second-generation disciples.

Dam-ho stared at Won-yul for a moment.

Won-yul met his gaze without backing down.

Then, suddenly, he flinched.

Those unusually deep black eyes held no emotion towards him whatsoever.

Yet an inexplicable chill crawled down his spine.

What is this…?

Just as he was trying to understand the feeling—

“Let’s go.”

Dam-ho walked past him.

As if it had never existed, the chill vanished instantly.

Was I imagining it?

Won-yul tilted his head in confusion.

By then, Dam-ho had already walked quite a distance ahead. With no time to dwell on it, Won-yul hurried after him.

Has it already been nearly a month?

Han So-yu had told him almost a month ago that they would be gathering at the True Martial Palace.

Since then, Dam-ho had been completely absorbed in studying the Heavy Sky Heart Art and the Bamboo Leaf Hand. He had nearly forgotten about it.

Junior Uncle Hyun-geom…

Part of him was curious about what kind of person Hyun-geom would be.

At the same time, he regretted losing valuable time that could have been spent cultivating the Heavy Sky Heart Art.

Still, when a senior elder of the sect summoned him, refusing was not an option.

Dam-ho suddenly lifted his head and looked around.

The plum blossoms that had covered Mount Hua in white only a short while ago were nowhere to be seen.

He missed their faint fragrance.

Not because he regretted their passing, but because their absence reminded him of how much time had already slipped away.

Meanwhile, a look of bewilderment crossed Won-yul’s face as he walked behind Dam-ho.

Initially, there had barely been any distance between them, but over time, the gap between them kept widening.

Dam-ho was clearly walking with a slight limp. Yet the distance between them continued to grow. No matter how much Won-yul quickened his pace, the gap didn’t shrink at all.

In the end, he was forced to use his qigong.

Only then was he finally able to catch up.

By that point, however, Dam-ho had already almost reached the main gate of True Martial Palace.

Dam-ho glanced at him.

“Can I just go in from here?”

“Ah? Y-Yes… that’s correct.”

“Thank you for guiding me. Until next time.”

Dam-ho stepped through the gates of True Martial Palace.

Watching his retreating figure, Won-yul muttered,

“Did he learn some special footwork technique?”

It seemed possible. No matter how much they mocked Dam-ho as the Dog That Cannot Run, he was still a first-generation disciple.

“To receive such privileges… I guess that’s what it means to be a first-generation disciple.”

Won-yul bit his lip.

***

Inside the True Martial Palace, more than fifty first-generation Mount Hua disciples had gathered.

For a great sect like Mount Hua, it was nearly impossible for all the first-generation disciples to assemble in one place.

They formed the core strength of the sect, each assigned to a hall or palace where they taught disciples and handled official duties.

As a result, this was the first time most of them had ever gathered together.

At least, as far as Dam-ho knew.

Though dozens of first-generation disciples filled the hall, not a single person spoke.

A solemn atmosphere dominated the entire palace.

When Dam-ho entered, Mu-gyeong, the eldest senior brother, greeted him with a faint smile.

Given the mood, Dam-ho simply bowed in return.

A few disciples acknowledged him.

Some looked at him with pity.

Others frowned openly, seemingly displeased by his presence.

Han So-yu, however, was different. She looked at Dam-ho with a gentle smile. Dam-ho bowed his head to her as well.

Creeeeak!

Just then, the rusted hinges screamed as the doors of True Martial Palace swung open. A middle-aged Taoist walked out.

At first glance, he seemed ordinary.

Yet he radiated a sharp aura, like that of a perfectly honed divine sword.

The Taoist’s gaze swept over the first-generation disciples. The moment their eyes met, the disciples felt a sudden chill, as if they were standing stark naked in the middle of a snowy field.

Dam-ho felt it too.

Goosebumps and a chill traveled up the back of his hands and down his spine. His lips trembled involuntarily.

The middle-aged Taoist said nothing, but Dam-ho immediately realized that he was the Lord of True Martial Palace and the greatest expert of the Mount Hua Sect, Taoist Hyeon-geom. No one else but him could exude such an overwhelming presence.

Finally, the middle-aged Taoist opened his mouth.

“Welcome. I am Hyeon-geom.”

“We greet Junior Uncle Hyeon-geom!”

The voices of the first-generation disciples thundered through the True Martial Palace. Their voices were laden with deep reverence for Taoist Hyeon-geom.

After the storm of greetings passed, Taoist Hyeon-geom continued speaking.

“The reason I have gathered you all here today is by order of the Sect Leader. The Sect Leader wishes for me to bestow as much of my insights upon you all as possible.”

The disciples immediately stirred.

Even obtaining a fraction of Hyun-geom’s insights could lead to tremendous advancement.

But the next words that left his mouth cooled their excitement instantly.

“I have no need for several people who are merely better than average.”

His eyes gleamed sharply.

“I need only one exceptional disciple.”

Hyun-geom had entered Mount Hua at an age when he could barely walk.

For over fifty years, he had devoted himself entirely to the sword.

While his fellow disciples became distracted by worldly affairs or neglected their martial arts, he walked only the path of the blade.

A swordsman who lived by the sword and would die by the sword.

To Hyun-geom, whose ultimate goal was to ascend to immortality through swordsmanship, mediocre talents held no value.

What he sought was a true genius worthy of inheriting his legacy.

“There will be a test.”

 

His voice rang out through the hall.

“The person who passes this test will become my direct disciple. It does not matter whether they are a first-generation disciple or a second-generation disciple. Even an outer disciple may inherit everything I possess if they display extraordinary talent.”

Buzz—

The declaration shook the entire hall.

It was a direct challenge to the hierarchy and generational order most sects treated as sacred.

If an outer disciple became Hyun-geom’s disciple, they would instantly rise to the rank of first-generation disciple.

It was an unprecedented offer.

Those who had been smiling leisurely a moment ago were suddenly struck by shock.

Even Mu-gyeong and Un-gyeong, the leaders among the first-generation disciples, looked stunned.

Neither had expected Hyun-geom to make such a radical proposal.

Mu-gyeong stepped forward and spoke on behalf of the disciples.

“How does Junior Uncle intend to choose his disciple?”

“What? Are you interested as well, Mu-gyeong? You’ve already begun cultivating the Purple Mist Divine Art. I doubt my insights would be of much use to you.”

Mu-gyeong was the disciple of sage Hyeon-cheon, the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

As the most likely successor to the position of sect leader, he had naturally been taught Mount Hua’s supreme art: the Purple Mist Divine Art.

Mu-gyeong smiled.

“To claim I have no desire for Junior Uncle’s insights would be a lie. You are Mount Hua’s greatest swordsman, after all. However, as you said, I have already entered the path of the Purple Mist Divine Art. Our paths are bound to differ.”

“You understand well.”

“The one who inherits Junior Uncle’s legacy will become the sword that represents Mount Hua. How could I not take an interest?”

Hyun-geom smiled.

Mu-gyeong’s reasoning was sound.

“Everyone gathered here will participate in a martial contest.”

“Will the final victor inherit Junior Uncle’s legacy?”

“Think whatever you wish.”

Mu-gyeong’s eyebrow twitched at the ambiguous answer.

Then he laughed.

“I’d rather not embarrass myself by losing to my fellow disciples, so I’ll pass.”

“As you wish.”

Hyun-geom nodded.

He had no interest in Mu-gyeong.

As the disciple of the Sect Leader, Mu-gyeong had already received much. He was someone walking a different path toward completion. Taking him as a disciple would only create complications.

As for the others, none of them chose to withdraw. Although they already had masters of their own, inheriting Hyun-geom’s insights was a tremendous honour.

Ultimately, they were all disciples of the same sect. Their masters would hardly object to them inheriting Hyun-geom’s teachings.

“There is no time to waste. We will begin the matches at once.”

As though he had already planned everything, Hyun-geom immediately selected the first pair.

“Seom-gyeong and Won-gyeong. Step forward.”

“Y-Yes!”

Caught off guard, Seom-gyeong and Won-gyeong stepped forward, looking flustered. They had never imagined that they would be the first to spar.

The tension on their faces was unmistakable.

Seom-gyeong belonged to the Golden Heaven Palace, while Won-gyeong belonged to the Taiping Palace. Though they had trained in martial arts together as children, they rarely had opportunities to spar as they grew older and were assigned to different palaces.

The only information they had about each other was from ten years ago. It seemed that the only way they would find out about each other’s current level was to clash directly.

‘I must win.’

‘I will be the one to inherit Sage Hyeon-geom’s insights.’

Both were determined to give it their all. Their fighting spirit that was palpable went as far spread to the other first-generation disciples.

“Begin.”

As soon as Sage Hyun-geom gave the order, Seom-gyeong and Won-gyeong glared at each other and began circling the training ground.

As fellow disciples of Mount Hua, they shared the same roots. Although they did not know each other’s precise martial strength, they were well aware of which techniques the other specialized in.

“Hyaah!”

Won-gyeong moved first.

He unleashed the Seven Stars Sword Art.

In an instant, his wooden sword shot toward Seom-gyeong’s chest.

Seom-gyeong dodged it with the Nine Palace Steps. As the wooden sword sliced harmlessly past him, he countered with the Plum Blossom Fist technique.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

One after another, they displayed Mount Hua’s martial arts, and their near-acrobatic movements drew admiring gasps from the surrounding disciples.

Blending in among the first-generation disciples, Dam-ho watched the match in silence.

A cold light flickered in his eyes.

This is an opportunity.

Practicing alone and fighting an actual opponent were entirely different things.

In this situation, the two competitors had no choice but to reveal the true extent of abilities they had kept hidden until now.

Seom-gyeong, using the Plum Blossom Fist, constantly sought to close the distance.

Won-gyeong, wielding the Seven Stars Sword Art, did everything he could to keep that distance intact.

As he observed the clash between a fist fighter and a swordsman, Dam-ho was learning how he himself should respond in such situations.

For someone who had always trained alone, this was a rare and invaluable opportunity.

Not wanting to miss a single detail, Dam-ho focused every ounce of his attention on the battle.

The thought of inheriting Hyun-geom’s legacy never once crossed his mind.

He was completely absorbed in the duel unfolding before him.

Each time the two fighters collided, his shoulders twitched unconsciously.

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