Chapter 33

Chapter 33
## Chapter: 33

### Chapter Title: House Xiahou (2)

“North Heaven Sword Demon, did you truly convince the council of elders? It still puzzles me. Even if you spoke for him, those arrogant old men wouldn’t just yield…”

“They provided their assistance. However, it was merely an endorsement. Their resolve was set long before I arrived.”

The North Heaven Sword Demon shifted his gaze toward Gwan Ung, speaking with a composed, rhythmic cadence.

“We are the progeny of the dark path. Who else is there to serve if not the individual who has claimed the secret techniques of the Heavenly Demon Ancestor? It was an inevitable conclusion.”

Gwan Hyo’s expression twisted, staring at Gwan Ung with a level of bewilderment that eclipsed even the unexpected arrival of the North Heaven Sword Demon.

“Impossible! You… you have mastered the lost arts of the Heavenly Demon Ancestor?”

“Why the disbelief? Does it seem so far-fetched?”

“It is absurd. The techniques of the Ancestor have been vanished from this world for ages. Our clan only struggled to unify the demonic factions because the bulk of those styles were forgotten. To claim you possess them now? What kind of ridiculous deception is this?”

Gwan Hyo roared, his face flushed with genuine outrage. This revelation seemed to wound his pride more than Gwan Ung’s betrayal itself.

“Do you recognize this object?”

Gwan Ung reached into his robes and pulled out a metal flute, roughly a foot in length, brandishing it before the room.

“A flute made of iron? What is that supposed to prove?”

As Gwan Hyo squinted at the tool, Gwan Ung let out a sharp laugh.

“This is no mere instrument. It is a sacred relic, a treasure handed down exclusively to the true heir of the Ancestor’s legacy.”

“Pure lunacy! The only artifact left by the Heavenly Demon Ancestor is the Heavenly Demon Ring.”

Gwan Hyo’s voice shook with fury.

“Accept it or don’t, it remains the reality. If old man Cheol hadn’t managed to spirit it away, it likely would have fallen into your possession alongside the Heavenly Demon Ring. Ah, that reminds me—I have yet to settle the score for old man Cheol.”

Gwan Ung snapped his head to the side, his eyes turning frigid as they landed on Gwan Pae. The man was a broken heap on the stones, only just beginning to regain consciousness. A predatory grin stretched across Gwan Ung’s lips.

Feeling the weight of that murderous intent, Gwan Pae trembled, but Gwan Ung was already looming over him, a foot pressing down on his skull.

“I could tolerate the way you treated me. But your actions toward old man Cheol crossed a line you cannot come back from.”

“I… please…”

“The moment old man Cheol breathed his last in my arms, I made a vow. I promised I would never grant mercy to the one responsible for his end.”

“H-have pity…”

Gwan Pae’s plea was cut short. Gwan Ung’s boot slammed down over his mouth, silencing him.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

Gwan Pae struggled desperately, his body jerking in a futile attempt to escape.

Muted wails escaped from beneath the leather sole crushing his jaw. Gwan Ung leaned in close, maintaining eye contact as he shifted his weight onto his toes, increasing the pressure.

“Enough! Stop this!”

Gwan Ung merely glanced at Gwan Hyo, who was twitching with the urge to intervene.

“Stay where you are. Unless you wish to witness the immediate execution of your second brother as well.”

As Gwan Hyo stood paralyzed, Gwan Ung leaned down and whispered into the ear of the dying Gwan Pae.

“When you reach the yellow springs, offer your apologies to old man Cheol. And be sure to tell him that I am doing quite well.”

There was no further warning.

A sickening sound of fracturing bone filled the air as Gwan Pae’s head was crushed beneath the heavy boot. Matter splattered across the floorboards in a grisly display.

“You… you monster…”

Gwan Hyo’s eyes burned with hatred as he watched Gwan Ung nonchalantly scrape the biological debris off his boot against the floor as if it were common mud. Despite his rage, he held back; Gwan Ung’s previous comments suggested there might still be a chance to save Gwan Jong.

Mocking Gwan Hyo’s restraint with a smirk, Gwan Ung addressed the North Heaven Sword Demon.

“Report. How did the mission go?”

The North Heaven Sword Demon lowered his head in a respectful bow.

“My apologies, Master. We successfully neutralized the Divine Demon Division, but the sacred treasure had already been taken out of the compound. The Loyal Demon Squad is currently giving chase—they should have it back shortly.”

Gwan Hyo was once again floored by the submissive tone the North Heaven Sword Demon used with Gwan Ung.

“Leader of the Elder Council, there is no need for such humility. Ah, Uncle, I haven’t informed you—I have placed Senior North Heaven Sword Demon at the head of the Elder Council. Given his prestige and martial prowess, he is the only one fit for the role.”

“You honor me too much.”

The North Heaven Sword Demon bowed even lower.

While Gwan Hyo stood in stunned silence at the sheer madness of the situation, Gwan Ung walked slowly toward Gwan Jong.

“I am told it was your idea to smuggle the Heavenly Demon Ring out. A sharp move. Utilizing the Divine Demon Division was a tactical masterstroke. Had you entrusted it to anyone else, I would already be wearing it.”

Gwan Jong, propping his broken form against the wall for support, let out a dry, rattling chuckle.

“So, you even managed to subvert the men of the Military Affairs Department?”

“Not subverted—I simply ensured my own people were already positioned within their ranks.”

“…”

Gwan Jong felt a shiver of dread at the depth of Gwan Ung’s preparations.

He had always believed he had a perfect grasp on every moving part within the Military Affairs Department. Looking at the collapse of his world, he realized this scheme had been years in the making.

“Regardless, you’ve made things tedious. Even with my mastery of the Ancestor’s techniques, that Ring is the ultimate symbol—the mark of the Lord of the Heavenly Demon Cult. But do not fret. You are the only member of this pathetic family who showed me a shred of decency. I won’t kill you. My men will catch the thieves soon, and the Ring will return to me.”

Just as Gwan Ung finished speaking with a confident grin, a scout dressed in the colors of the Loyal Demon Squad sprinted into the room and dropped to one knee.

“Report!”

The North Heaven Sword Demon commanded.

“We intercepted the fleeing party, but the artifact was not among them.”

“Missing? Where has it gone?”

“It appears…”

The scout faltered, prompting a bark of anger from the North Heaven Sword Demon.

“Speak!”

“We were misled by a feint. The group we caught were merely decoys. The actual carrier of the treasure escaped through a different route.”

“A feint? You blundering fools!”

Gwan Ung hissed, his irritation boiling over.

He had already neutralized or turned Gwan Hyo and the primary combat units. With the Elder Council in his pocket, his grip on the Heavenly Demon Cult—and by extension, the entire demonic world—was nearly absolute. However, the Heavenly Demon Ring was the final piece.

It represented the legacy of the Heavenly Demon Ancestor and was reputed to be the most potent weapon of their path. Rumors suggested it contained the ultimate truths the Ancestor discovered in his twilight years—a secret Gwan Ung knew to be genuine, having found parallels in the iron flute.

Owning it provided the mandate of heaven.

His display of the Ancestor’s arts had won over the elders. If a rival surfaced with the Ring, it could spark a rebellion he couldn’t easily quell. He needed that relic.

“Kekeke! You grew arrogant and forgot the nature of the Divine Demon Division. Even stripped of their commanders and decimated in number, they remain the elite.”

“Quiet your mouth. Testing my patience further will not go well for you.”

Gwan Jong met Gwan Ung’s manic, glowing eyes with a look of pure defiance.

“The Ring is likely with Thunderbolt. He possesses the swiftest blade and the fastest stride in the cult. He has undoubtedly completed his task.”

As Gwan Jong laughed, Gwan Ung’s expression darkened.

“I see. So it wasn’t just about hiding it. To whom did you send it? Your first nephew on his travels? No, the second is useless—a boy chasing pleasure. The third is a possibility, though young, but he is still within my reach. It must be the eldest. He could use the Ring to rally a following in the outside world. But it’s a waste of time. I will crush any mob he assembles. Or perhaps you sent it to your uncle for some future gamble.”

Gwan Ung watched Gwan Jong’s face for any sign of a tell, but Gwan Jong remained an unreadable mask of stone. It was Gwan Hyo who finally spoke.

“When the news reached me that you had turned—that my Execution Demon Squad, my Loyal Demon Squad, and even my Elders had betrayed me—I accepted that my reign was over. My second son suggested we smuggle the relic to preserve a spark for the future. In that moment, only one name was worthy.”

Gwan Hyo stood tall, approaching Gwan Jong with a sense of grim finality.

“I wasn’t looking toward some distant ‘future.’ None of my own flesh and blood possessed the spirit required. So, I made a choice.”

Gwan Hyo’s eyes flickered toward the North Heaven Sword Demon.

The veteran warrior understood the unspoken name instantly. His face went pale.

“No… surely you didn’t send it to *him*?”

“I did. He is the only being capable of visiting vengeance upon you. No, not for me—we are no longer kin. But for the Divine Demon Division? He will come.”

“You attempted the ‘two tigers’ gambit. Ha! Uncle, do you honestly believe I fear that man?”

Gwan Ung spat the words with a sneer.

“That remains to be seen. Armed with the Ancestor’s secrets, you likely feel superior to all living things. But he is a storm of a different nature. A singular existence. You are too young to understand, but I am not.”

Gwan Hyo pointed a finger at the North Heaven Sword Demon, whose features were twisted in a mask of silent rage, and made his proclamation:

“He will be the one to end your life.”

—

Deep in the Jinyang Province sat the city of Jinhua.

Sima Geon and Cheol Woo, responding to the summons of House Xiahou and traveling from Shaoxing, reached the city gates a day prior to the grand celebration for Lady Go Hui.

“Good grief—there’s too many people here.”

Cheol Woo grumbled, looking at the masses clogging the narrow avenues.

“It is a provincial capital, after all. Plus, this festival is no small matter. Traders from every corner of the land are arriving to capitalize on the crowds.”

“I suppose. It shocked me to hear the party lasts three whole days. Must be nice to have that much coin to burn. Still, at least there’s plenty to eat and see. I heard the martial arts contest goes on for two days, right?”

“That is the schedule.”

“Heh heh! Boss, what if I entered? I want to see if anyone can actually put up a fight.”

Sima Geon gave Cheol Woo a sharp poke in the ribs.

“Control yourself. Are you trying to leave a trail of broken bodies in the middle of a festival?”

“I’d hold back, obviously.”

His mischievous tone hinted that he wasn’t entirely joking.

“The answer is no.”

Sima Geon dismissed the idea with a firm shake of his head.

“But why?”

“Your physical stature. I can mask a face with a bit of makeup, but there is no hiding a frame like yours. Your aura is too distinct. We need to stay under the radar.”

“Fine, fine. I didn’t really want to anyway.”

Cheol Woo marched ahead, pouting like an oversized child. He stopped at a street stall, purchased a skewer of candied hawthorns, and began stuffing them into his mouth with exaggerated annoyance.

“He never grew up.”

Sima Geon let out a long sigh, but then he hesitated. He walked over to the same vendor, bought his own skewer, and began to eat, sneaking side-glances at his companion. A look of pure delight washed over his face.

“Wow!”

“This is incredible…”

The two of them muttered simultaneously, their eyes widening as they enjoyed the sugary fruit.

“That isn’t a residence—it’s a goddamn fortress.”

“I never thought I’d see a compound that made the Crimson Flame Clan look small.”

Cheol Woo nodded in fervent agreement with Sima Geon’s assessment.

“You’re right. The Crimson Flame base we tore apart was massive, but this place is a different beast entirely.”

“The exterior walls are surprisingly low, though. I suppose they aren’t worried about intruders.”

Sima Geon noted the modest height of the perimeter, which seemed out of place given the opulence within.

“Or maybe it’s a way of saying, ‘try us and see what happens’?”

“Very likely.”

With a faint smile, Sima Geon increased his pace toward the primary entrance.

Unlike the low-slung walls, the main gates were towering and stood wide open, a constant stream of people flowing through.

“The security is actually quite rigorous.”

Cheol Woo gestured toward a group of warriors who were methodically screening everyone entering the estate.

“They have to be. Events like this attract all sorts of lunatics and gatecrashers. Hmm!”

Sima Geon made a sound of genuine interest, catching Cheol Woo’s attention.

“A house of such renown doesn’t disappoint. Look at the man guarding the gate—he has a formidable presence.”

Cheol Woo focused on a tall, spindly man who looked as thin as a reed.

He appeared to be in his early thirties, wearing a bored, listless expression, yet his eyes were like shards of ice, scanning the crowd with lethal precision. Most warriors wore their swords at their hips; this man cradled his blade against his chest, a very specific and unusual habit.

“He reminds me of that guy.”

“Which one?”

Sima Geon tilted his head in thought.

“Thunderbolt.”

“Oh! You’re right. The facial structure, the lanky build—even the way he hugs his sword. They could be related.”

Sima Geon thought back to his fastest lieutenant from his time leading the Divine Demon Division.

“In terms of prowess, though, there’s no comparison.”

Sima Geon gave Cheol Woo a look of mock disbelief.

“Are you serious? If Thunderbolt heard you say that, he’d be foaming at the mouth and lunging at you.”

“Heh! I actually miss the guy. It was always a laugh beating him into the dirt when he got too cocky. I wonder how the rest of the pack is doing.”

Cheol Woo let out a booming laugh, his shoulders shaking, which earned him several glares from the nearby guards.

“Lower your voice and keep moving. We’re already drawing enough heat.”

Noticing the suspicious stares of nearly a dozen guards, Sima Geon and Cheol Woo tried to blend into the flow.

It was too late.

While Sima Geon looked relatively unassuming, Cheol Woo’s massive, muscular frame and scarred face acted like a beacon. People naturally moved out of his way, making them stand out even more.

At a subtle nod from the lanky swordsman, a group of warriors stepped forward, barring Sima Geon and Cheol Woo from going any further.