The Demonic Supreme Sword Novel - Chapter 74

Chapter 74
### Chapter 74: Touching the Untouchable (1)

—

The **Heavenly Pavilion** sat on the northeastern fringes of **Soheung**.

Within the most secluded chamber on the third floor—the private quarters of the establishment’s head—a gathering was underway. The seat of honor was occupied not by the pavilion’s master, but by a snowy-haired elder whose face was a map of deep wrinkles. While the rest of the **Heavenly Pavilion** pulsed with late-night energy, this room was suffocatingly quiet.

“I’ve received word regarding the **Clear Heart Clinic**,” the white-haired man began. “They reduced the entire place to cinders.”

**Po Yang**, an elder of **Haomen**, looked toward the pavilion’s mistress, **Han Seol**. She lowered her head, her expression clouded with regret.

“It is true. The loss was total—not just the infirmary itself, but the physicians and the sick were slaughtered.”

“Tch! Even for those monsters, targeting the **Clear Heart Clinic** is a new low. I truly didn’t think they’d go that far.”

**Po Yang** exhaled a heavy sigh, grabbing his cup and draining the spirits in a single motion.

“Their movements were swifter than we calculated, leaving a trail of chaos. To think they pulled off such a stunt! At least we can find solace in the fact that they avoided a direct confrontation with the **Sword Ghost**.”

“The timing was razor-thin,” **Han Seol** added. “A delay of only a day or two and the outcome would have been catastrophic.”

“Indeed. You have all navigated these treacherous waters admirably. You’ve done well.”

The tension in the room eased at **Po Yang’s** commendation. It seemed the horrific fate of the **Clear Heart Clinic** was already being pushed to the back of their minds.

“However, do you understand the motivation behind the main branch’s direct involvement this time? It wasn’t merely to act as a conduit for rumors.”

“We were compensated with a massive fortune to facilitate this,” **Han Seol** replied.

“True. It is a staggering sum, even weighing the inherent dangers. But gold is only part of the equation.”

As **Han Seol** prepared to elaborate on the deeper nuances, **Sang Cheon**, who stood at her side, spoke up with a note of caution.

“Is this a maneuver against the **Yangtze Waterway Alliance**?”

To the common patron, **Sang Cheon** was merely the leader of the musical troupe that performed nightly at the pavilion. In reality, he was the primary shield for **Han Seol** and the secret outpost. Though forty, his small frame and stooped posture gave him the appearance of an old man, yet his gaze held the lethal sharpness of a predator.

**Po Yang** offered a thin, approving smile. “You are perceptive.”

“The Master dropped a hint. Besides, it is common knowledge that the **Hongik Bureau** has ties to the **Yangtze Waterway Alliance**.”

“Precisely. This was a golden opportunity to spit in the faces of those **Yangtze Waterway Alliance** devils. The **Green Forest Eighteen Strongholds**, who masterminded this plot, shared that goal from the start.”

“But can such a plan truly succeed?” **Sang Cheon** asked, his voice laced with doubt.

“It is more than likely. The ‘butchers’ we’ve tracked are monsters in their own right. Once they begin their rampage to recover their sister, the chaos will be magnificent. If fortune favors us, the **Ha Hu Clan** might even be sucked into the vortex. Though, admittedly, the **Ha Hu Clan’s** involvement would complicate matters for us as well.”

**Po Yang** ground his teeth, his mind flashing through the long-standing blood feuds between **Haomen** and the **Yangtze Waterway Alliance**.

“I feel a flicker of pity for those butcher siblings, but once the **Green Forest Eighteen Strongholds** caught their scent, their peace was over. Whether they fall to the **Green Forest** or the **Yangtze** matters little. As intended, the **Sword Ghost** has abandoned his post, and the **Hongik Bureau** curs have snatched the butcher’s child and fled **Soheung**. Now, we simply wait for the **Sword Ghost** or the butcher to return. We whisper the name of the **Hongik Bureau** in their ear, and our mission is complete. However… the board has changed.”

“Changed? In what way?” **Han Seol** inquired.

“Not long ago, the **Living Immortal Medical House** stood on the brink of the abyss.”

“I heard they clashed with the **Demonic Cult**,” she noted. “They were nearly wiped out.”

“The reports from the scouts on the ground suggest the **Demonic Cult’s** power was staggering. Even with the intervention of the **Namgung Clan’s Soaring Heaven Lone Sword**, the **Beggars’ Sect’s Wandering Nine Beggars Fiend**, and a host of other masters, they were helpless.”

“But the stories say a group of heroes stepped forward and broke the **Demonic Cult’s** pride,” **Sang Cheon** interjected.

**Po Yang** let out a dry, hollow cackle. “Hah! Is that what the streets are saying?”

“Is it not the truth?”

“Oh, their pride was broken, certainly. But those weren’t ‘heroes.’ Those were **Demonic Cult** members themselves.”

“What? I don’t follow.”

“The same cult. And more importantly…” **Po Yang** reached for more wine, spinning the empty porcelain between his fingers. “Those ‘heroes’ are the very butchers we’ve been discussing.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. **Han Seol** and **Sang Cheon** stared at him, their minds racing to connect the dots.

“The scale of this is far beyond our initial maps,” **Po Yang** said with a grim smile. “That is why I have traveled here personally—to ensure our tracks are clean. If there is even a single loose thread…”

**Han Seol** felt a chill as she locked eyes with the elder.

“The orders are to retreat immediately. Wipe every trace of the main branch’s presence. These people are far more lethal than our first assessment suggested.”

“Ah…” A soft, worried sigh escaped **Han Seol**. **Po Yang**, misinterpreting her look, tried to be reassuring.

“Do not fret. We will conclude this properly. Once the dust settles, you will be appointed the head of the new sub-branch here. Just maintain your discretion. Do not rush… Wait, what is that look for?”

**Po Yang** narrowed his eyes as he saw **Han Seol’s** face turn pale.

“There is a complication,” **Sang Cheon** said, stepping in.

“A complication?”

“To circulate the rumors, we employed the **Blood Cloth Faction**.”

“You did *what*?” **Po Yang** roared, his composure shattering.

As **Sang Cheon** laid out the details, **Po Yang’s** face cycled through a dozen shades of fury.

“Why! Why would you take such a risk? I told you repeatedly that this required absolute shadow-work!”

“It was a matter of timing…” **Han Seol** began, but her voice failed her.

**Sang Cheon** picked up the explanation. “This isn’t a primary fortress of the main branch. Acting in total secrecy was proving difficult, especially since the **Hongik Bureau** moved faster than our rumors could travel. We had to outsource the legwork.”

**Han Seol** cast a look of silent gratitude toward him; he had been the only one to oppose the use of the **Blood Cloth Faction** in the first place.

“It was a reckless gamble. If the **Sword Ghost**—or worse, the **Ha Hu Clan**—starts digging, the **Blood Cloth Faction** will crumble, and our names will be on their lips in hours.”

“The girl, **Gold Flower**, who acted as the liaison to the **Blood Cloth Faction**, has already been relocated. No one knows where she is, so there’s no need to—”

“You think they’ll just stop because one girl is missing? Do you think you and your subordinates are invisible? Fine, if the **Ha Hu Clan** finds us out, we can perhaps negotiate. They follow certain rules of the game. But the butchers—the **Demonic Cult**—they do not. This involves their family. They will hunt us to the ends of the earth. If their display at the **Living Immortal Medical House** was real, the main branch is in mortal peril.”

Driven by a mix of rage and genuine terror, **Po Yang** bolted upright. ” **Sang Cheon**!”

“Yes, Elder?”

“How much time do you need to scrub this place of our existence?”

“We’ve only just begun the process. Aside from the core members from the main branch, no one here knows who we truly are.”

“Good. That’s something. Clean it up with all haste and… Gah!”

With a sudden, violent movement, **Po Yang** shoved **Han Seol** and **Sang Cheon** aside, diving across the floor as if dodging an invisible blade.

—

“Th-that is the **Heavenly Pavilion**.”

The lone survivor of the **Blood Cloth Faction** pointed toward the structure, his voice trembling with pure, unadulterated dread. He could still see the faces of his comrades as they were slaughtered during their meal.

“You’re certain?”

The **Thunderclap** watched the man nod frantically. Without a word, **Sima Geon** and **Cheol Woo** walked past him.

The survivor, still shivering as he watched **Sima Geon’s** back, suddenly felt his perspective shift. The world tilted sideways. Before he could understand that his head was no longer attached to his neck, his vision went dark forever.

“Go on. Don’t leave your friends waiting in the afterlife.”

Having granted the man a swift end, the **Thunderclap** hurried to catch up with **Sima Geon**.

“Looks like a typical wine house from this side,” **Cheol Woo** remarked, eyeing the **Heavenly Pavilion** as it began to close for the night.

“Looks are often a mask. We won’t know the truth until we’re inside.”

The **Thunderclap** scanned the patrons leaving the building with a keen, predatory eye.

**Sima Geon** came to a stop in front of a young beggar lingering by the entrance. The boy was a mess of matted hair and tattered rags. He bared a row of yellowed teeth and held out a grime-covered hand for alms.

**Sima Geon** gave a cold smirk and brought his boot down hard on the outstretched hand.

“Aaaargh!” the beggar shrieked.

The **Thunderclap** blinked in surprise, but **Cheol Woo** just clicked his tongue.

“Are your eyes for decoration? Look at him. He stinks of a lie. A martial artist playing at being a beggar.”

“Eh?” The **Thunderclap** leaned in, observing the beggar’s exaggerated thrashing. “Hm, you’re right. His reaction is off. I can’t believe I missed that.”

“Your instincts are getting rusty,” **Cheol Woo** teased. The **Thunderclap** simply looked away, feigning innocence.

“What is this place? And don’t give me the ‘tavern’ speech,” **Sima Geon** demanded.

The beggar, unable to free his mangled hand, put his forehead to the dirt. “Mercy, please! I truly don’t know what you’re asking!”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m looking for a woman named **Gold Flower**.”

At the mention of **Gold Flower**, **Dong Gwang**—the man assigned to watch the perimeter of the pavilion—felt a jolt of panic. Though his face was hidden, **Sima Geon** felt the shift in his pulse and the tension in his muscles.

“Definitely a rat.”

As **Sima Geon** turned toward the building, **Dong Gwang** lunged. A hidden blade slid from his sleeve, flashing toward **Sima Geon’s** leg.

The blade stopped mid-air.

“This one’s got some bite,” the **Thunderclap** said, his own sword pinning **Dong Gwang’s** arm to the ground. He grinned. “There’s something hidden here. Let me break him a bit and—”

The **Thunderclap** stopped as **Sima Geon** stepped back and drew his sword in one fluid motion.

*Shwaaaaak!*

A crescent of sword qi tore through the air, carving a jagged diagonal line across the face of the **Heavenly Pavilion**.

“Captain?” **Cheol Woo** shouted, surprised. **Sima Geon** simply sheathed his weapon.

“The innocent people moved. I needed to see who stayed. It takes a shock to flush out the real vermin.”

“Is that so? Then one hit isn’t enough.”

**Cheol Woo** let out a dark laugh and launched a punch toward the building. His fist unleashed a localized blast of qi that struck the main support pillar, ignoring the damage from the sword strike.

The massive wooden post snapped with a thunderous crack. The entire pavilion groaned and tilted. As parts of the roof collapsed, the remaining patrons and staff came screaming out of the exits.

As **Sima Geon** and **Cheol Woo** moved toward the doors, the **Thunderclap** gestured to the beggar. “What about this one?”

“Bring him.”

Ignoring the **Thunderclap’s** grumbling, **Sima Geon** walked into the wreckage. He didn’t hesitate, his senses already locked onto his target on the upper floors.

As they climbed the stairs, **Cheol Woo** glanced to the side. “Captain.”

“I see them. **Thunderclap**.”

“Ready, Captain.”

“The rats are fleeing. Leave the stragglers to **Cheol Woo** and follow me.”

“Understood.” The **Thunderclap** vanished into the shadows.

“Heh, let’s see what these vermin look like up close,” **Cheol Woo** said. With the bound **Dong Gwang** tossed over his shoulder, he followed **Sima Geon** down the third-floor hallway.

The panicked crowds fleeing the upper floors were no obstacle. They parted like the sea before the two men, terrified by the overwhelming, murderous pressure they radiated.

“No other targets worth noting,” **Cheol Woo** said, scanning the rooms.

“Agreed. A few small fry, but they’re irrelevant.”

“Then let’s finish this.” **Cheol Woo** nodded toward the end of the hall, where **Po Yang** and his companions stood waiting.