The Demonic Supreme Sword Novel - Chapter 64

Chapter 64
## Chapter 64: Living Immortal Medical House (1)

—

As the sun began its ascent in the eastern sky, Hwang Gyeom—the former patriarch of the Living Immortal Medical House—stood in his physician’s attire, gazing vacantly at the horizon.

‘His vitality is waning, yet such a crisis arrives now.’

Having been confined to his bed for a considerable time by the weight of years and persistent illness, he had only managed to stand on his own feet two days prior. Watching him from a distance, Hwang Myeong felt a pang of sorrow, seeing the old man as still and resolute as the legendary Wang Fu Stone.

“Grandfather, the assembly at the Council Hall is about to begin.”

Hwang Gyeom turned his head with measured slowness.

“Is the hour already upon us?”

“It is.”

“Has the family convened?”

“Everyone is present, save for my Great Uncle, who is currently occupied with a critical surgical case.”

“Very well. Lead the way.”

The pair exited the quarters and walked toward the Council Hall, the heart of the estate where the most vital resolutions were weighed. Although dawn had broken, the hall remained illuminated by the lanterns that had burned through the night, and the air within was thick with the echoes of a fierce debate.

“This man has only just regained the ability to walk. Are you suggesting we simply cast him out to be slaughtered?”

“And if he were in perfect health, would your answer change? Surrendering him to their clutches is a death sentence regardless, is it not?”

“Our obligation ended when we mended his flesh. What fate befalls him beyond these gates is no longer our burden.”

“And should he survive that fate and return to our doorstep? What then?”

“We cannot base our survival on mere ‘what-ifs’.”

“How much more blood must be shed for a single soul? This does not just endanger our kin—the very patients under our care are now in jeopardy. How do we answer to them?”

“Why do you speak as if the Heavenly Demon Cult has already won? Their strength is undeniable, but our own guardians are not without skill. Furthermore, wandering warriors have flocked here to stand in our defense. The cultists will not find us an easy prey.”

“Such naive sentiment. Have you truly looked upon the pressure emanating from those surrounding us? Have you seen the demonic masters leading that vanguard?”

Hwang Gyeom paused outside the doors, listening to the discord. He took a steadying breath and pushed the heavy doors open.

The cacophony, reminiscent of a chaotic street market, died instantly. Every person in the room rose with haste, bowing their heads in reverence. Even the current patriarch, Hwang Jin, stood from the primary seat to make room for his elder.

“Take your seats, all of you.”

Hwang Gyeom ascended to the high chair and signaled for them to sit. Once the room was settled, he spoke.

“The voices outside were divided. Am I to assume no consensus has been reached?”

“We have found agreement on the core objective,” Hwang Jin replied, his eyes sweeping across the council. “We are merely refining the final perspectives of the different halls.”

“Refining them? This is no simple matter. Tell me then, what is the final verdict?”

“It is impossible to comply.”

A few individuals looked as though they might protest, but the stern furrow of Hwang Jin’s brow silenced them before they could speak.

“I see. You are fully aware of the weight of such a defiance?” Hwang Gyeom asked.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

“I trust you are not making this choice merely to preserve the vanity of our name or ancient customs, ignoring the reality of our situation?”

Though his face remained pale and sickly, his voice held a cutting sharpness.

Great Elder Gu Inhoe, who had stood firmly alongside Hwang Jin in rejecting the demands of the Heavenly Demon Cult, took the floor.

“We have weighed every consequence and debated every angle. Despite the risks, we cannot simply hand him over.”

Hwang Gyeom’s eyes moved to focus on Hwang Jin.

“I stand with the Great Elder,” the Patriarch affirmed. “This is not about arrogance or tradition for tradition’s sake. Our fundamental creed—to never abandon a soul seeking healing—is the very soul of this house. Regardless of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s power, once a man is a patient under our roof, he remains a patient.”

“Yet the reputation of this house is already being stained. People look at us with doubt. Disgraceful rumors have already reached my private chambers—are you aware of this?”

“The rumors are of no consequence.”

Hwang Gyeom could see that Hwang Jin was prepared to pay any price.

“Do not be too troubled,” Gu Inhoe added. “We are not walking into this blind or without allies.”

Hwang Gyeom’s eyes widened slightly. “Has the Martial Alliance decided to intervene?”

“Hardly. Those ungrateful cowards,” Gu Inhoe muttered, his white brows twitching with indignation. “The Alliance has turned a blind eye, but the righteous warriors of the world have not. They were hesitant at first, fearing the Alliance’s disapproval, but now hundreds have gathered, and more arrive by the hour.”

“So I have been told…”

Hwang Gyeom’s rigid features softened, if only slightly. Without the core elites of the great sects, he remained skeptical of their true effectiveness.

“Our honored resident guests will also stand with us.”

“They have pledged their blades?”

“Naturally. Beyond our formal agreements, they are kin under this roof. Their fury toward the Heavenly Demon Cult burns as hot as ours.”

“That is a great relief.”

Hwang Gyeom finally looked somewhat eased. Though their numbers were few, the guests residing within the Living Immortal Medical House were figures of significant renown in the lands.

“Our own martial artists are prepared,” declared Hwang Eun, the commander of the Martial Heart Hall. “We will not retreat a single step.”

The hall erupted with renewed vigor as he voiced his confidence.

“We shall protect this home until our last breath!”

“We will never bow to the filth of the Demon Cult!”

“We will hold the gates!”

The cries of the militants filled the room with heat. However, the enthusiasm was not universal. Those led by Hwang Seung, the head of the Apothecary Hall who had favored a peaceful resolution, kept their anxieties hidden, remaining quiet as the tide of war rose around them.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The morning light felt gentle as the man’s eyes slowly adjusted to the room.

‘Ah.’

He looked toward the window; the sun had climbed high into the sky. He recalled waking briefly at first light before drifting back into a slumber that lasted longer than he intended.

Pushing himself up from the floor, he felt a dull throb in his side, but it was manageable.

Outside, the melodic chirping of birds was punctuated by the distant, rough shouts of men and the unmistakable ring of clashing steel.

“So, the dancing has begun?”

He regulated his breathing, stood up, and neatly arranged his bedding. He then pulled on the garments he had requested earlier. Just as he finished, the door creaked open, and the young medic who had been overseeing his recovery walked in.

“You’ve finally woken? You must have been drained to sleep this late… Wait, why are you dressed? Where do you think you’re going?”

The young man’s face went white with panic.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

The man gave a small, appreciative smile and placed a hand on the youth’s shoulder.

“No, you can’t…”

The startled medic gripped the man’s arm.

“It’s too soon. Your internal injuries haven’t closed. You’ve only just started to walk—where do you think you’re off to?”

“I’ve spent enough time in this bed. My body is ready. Besides…”

He looked through the window toward the source of the noise.

“I have to settle my own debts. I won’t allow this sanctuary to burn because of my presence.”

“We’ve already told you to stay calm. The elders have formally rejected the Demon Cult.”

The man let out a low, soft laugh.

“That’s exactly why I have to leave. If I stay, this will end in a bloodbath.”

The medic’s grip tightened.

“Brave warriors have come to help us. Do not think the Medical House is defenseless—our warriors are formidable.”

“I am grateful, truly, but…”

With a swift, practiced motion, the man tapped the youth’s pressure point.

“You and your kin don’t understand the reality. You don’t know how truly terrifying the Heavenly Demon Cult can be.”

He caught the stiffening youth and laid him gently on the floor, smiling kindly.

“The paralysis will fade shortly. Forgive me for the trouble of tending to a stubborn patient. I’ll settle the bill by making sure the Living Immortal Medical House stays standing. Thank you.”

The medic’s eyes darted frantically and his lips moved, but with his voice sealed, he was helpless. The man gave one final nod and walked slowly out of the medical wing.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

A warrior stumbled backward, clutching a mangled shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers, painting the earth crimson with every retreating step.

“Raaah!”

The massive victor raised his blade high, and a roar of triumph erupted from the surrounding crowd.

The members of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s Assault Demon Division watched the scene with cold, dark eyes. They appeared subdued to an outsider, but it was a mask for their simmering rage.

“How long must we play this game?”

O Gu, the leader of the Assault Demon Division known as the White Snake Saber, spoke with blatant annoyance.

“What is the tally of our losses?”

Ho San, the Black-Clothed Venerable and acting commander of the Cult’s forces, slowly rotated his sandalwood prayer beads.

“Five men have fallen. We have shown more than enough restraint.”

“He is correct. This isn’t a festival—these duels are an insult. We have held back, avoiding fatal strikes. We have established our pretext; it is time to erase them.”

The Left Sentinel of the Brain Wall Guard cracked his knuckles, the sound like breaking dry branches. Ho San glanced to his side.

“Your take?”

“I agree with the Brain Protector. We strike now. I have followed the Cult Leader’s instructions to the letter, but I am at my limit.”

Ma Gong Ho, the Wind Blood Demon Lord and the youngest of the elders, stared at the cheering onlookers with a gaze heavy with murderous intent.

To him, the “heroes” who had gathered to support the Living Immortal Medical House were a joke. Despite outnumbering the Cultists, they were a disorganized rabble. A single charge would shatter them.

“I recognize some of those faces,” the Black-Clothed Venerable remarked, scanning the crowd.

“Fools. Don’t worry—the old man is mine.”

The Left Sentinel had spotted the Journeyman Wanderer early on. He squinted, a bloodthirsty grin spreading across his face. Ho San gave a slight nod, knowing the history of their bitter rivalry.

“The Nangong Clan? That one has a formidable presence. Heh heh! Leave him to me—I’ll enjoy snapping his neck.”

Ho San looked at Nangong Kyung for a moment before shaking his head.

“The Cult cannot afford to lose you here. I will handle him myself.”

“What?”

Ma Gong Ho’s eyes flashed with irritation at the dismissal.

“Elder, I am more than capable…”

“That is the Soaring Heaven High Sword Nangong Kyung.”

The quiet voice of the Brain Wall Guard cut through the protest.

“No disrespect to Elder Ma, but he is in a different league than you.”

The Left Sentinel bit his tongue. Even if he hadn’t faced the man, the legend of that name was impossible to ignore.

“Assault Demon Leader.”

The commander stepped forward at Ho San’s command.

“I am here, Elder.”

“Give them one final opportunity to comply.”

“Elder!”

“How much more must we endure?”

Ho San raised a hand, demanding silence.

“If they refuse one last time…”

His eyes turned into cold voids.

“They are marked for death regardless. Moving the execution up by an hour changes nothing. Kill every last soul.”

The Assault Demon Leader’s face split into a cruel grin as he tightened his grip on his weapon.

“Understood!”