Chapter 766: Appearance of the Star King
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 766: Appearance of the Star King
A colossal shadow blotted out the sky.
Beneath its weight, the Heavenly Demon descended, his dark cape billowing like a shroud.
The man wore a cracked mask, his hands clasped calmly behind his back as he drifted toward the earth.
Those gathered below stared up at him, their eyes burning with a mixture of terror and loathing.
“That man is…!”
“How dare he show his face here again…!!”
Shing—!
Schwing—!
In an instant, every martial artist drew their steel. A palpable, suffocating fighting spirit saturated the air. The scene was a powder keg, a single spark away from total annihilation. Every soul present seethed with a murderous rage, ready to tear the Heavenly Demon apart at a moment’s notice.
[Heh heh.]
Yet, as he looked down upon them, the Heavenly Demon let out a low, amused chuckle.
“…Heavenly Demon.”
The Sword Immortal’s face twisted into a deep, jagged scowl. While the others were on edge, the aura radiating from him was on an entirely different level. His Qi surged with a violent intensity, as if he might slice the Heavenly Demon into a thousand pieces at any second.
“I thought you had long since fled like a coward. What more could you possibly have to say that you would grace us with your presence?”
At the Sword Immortal’s biting words, the Heavenly Demon gave a slight, mocking nod.
[Ordinarily, I had no intention of appearing…]
Swoosh.
The Heavenly Demon descended further, hovering well within the range of a sword Qi strike.
[But I suddenly grew curious about your impressions. Tell me, how was it?]
His voice was laced with cruel amusement.
[The gift I prepared for you?]
“…Ghh.”
The Sword Immortal ground his teeth so hard they creaked. How was the gift? It was a nightmare.
“It made me realize many things,” the Sword Immortal spat. “A great many things, indeed.”
It was a "gift" he would likely never forget for as long as he lived.
Viiiiing.
A high-pitched hum resonated from the Sword Immortal’s blade—a Sword Resonance born of raw, unfiltered emotion.
“Heavenly Demon. You have made a grave mistake.”
Whoosh—!
A sudden gale kicked up, the cold autumn breeze swirling and eddying around the Sword Immortal in a violent vortex.
“To reveal yourself here is to declare your wish to die on this very spot.”
Consumed by fury, the Sword Immortal prepared to lung at the masked figure.
“I shall execute the traitor who ravaged Henan right here and now…!”
But just as he was about to leap, his eyes narrowed and his body froze mid-motion. Someone had stopped him. He whipped his head around to see who dared interfere.
“…What is the meaning of this, Celestial Plum Blossom?”
The Celestial Plum Blossom, Dohwa, held a firm hand on the Sword Immortal’s shoulder. Plum blossom petals began to drift through the air, mingling with the scattered fighting spirit. For some reason, Dohwa began to gather and disperse not only the Sword Immortal’s aura but all the volatile energy that had flooded the area.
As the air cleared slightly, the Sword Immortal glared at him with blazing eyes.
“…Celestial Plum Blossom…!”
His expression screamed, How could you do this? The enemy was right in front of them—why was he being held back?
In response to the Sword Immortal’s silent fury, Dohwa spoke calmly.
“Alliance Leader, calm yourself.”
“…What? Does this look like a situation where I can be calm?!”
“If you do not calm down, others will die. I implore you—look at the forest, not just the tree.”
“…!”
Dohwa’s tone was heavy, devoid of its usual playful smile. Realizing there must be a reason for the warning, the Sword Immortal snapped his gaze back toward the Heavenly Demon.
It didn’t take long for him to see it.
“Heavenly Demon…!”
[What is it?]
The Sword Immortal saw it belatedly. The Heavenly Demon had unclasped his hands. His right hand was now pointing toward the distance—directly at the area where the refugees were huddled together.
The meaning was crystal clear.
Do not act rashly.
If you do anything foolish, there is no telling what will happen to those people.
It was a silent, cold-blooded warning.
“…You despicable bastard!”
“After turning Henan into a graveyard, you intend to claim more victims?!”
“They are innocent!”
The martial artists erupted in a fresh wave of righteous fury.
[How truly amusing.]
The Heavenly Demon laughed, as if their moral outrage was nothing more than a trivial joke.
[In a well that has been scraped to its very bottom, do you still try to debate the dregs of justice? Do not delude yourselves.]
Grrrrrr—!!
As he spoke, the colossal monster lurking in the clouds above let out a low, earth-shaking growl.
[It is true that I created this situation. But can you truly say that you are without sin?]
The one who brought Henan to ruin was the Heavenly Demon. However, the Murim Alliance—the self-proclaimed guardians of the Central Plains and the paragons of the Orthodox Faction—had been brought to their knees by a single tremor.
[Arrogant.]
Was the Murim Alliance truly blameless in this catastrophe?
His question made every face contort, yet no one offered a rebuttal. They knew it as well as he did. They were finally beginning to feel the crushing weight of their own incompetence.
[You were arrogant, and you were vile.]
[How disappointing. I thought that even if you had lost the light of the past, you would at least provide some amusement… To think even that was too great an expectation.]
His tone was dripping with condescension. The words grated on the Sword Immortal’s ears, and he ground his teeth fiercely. He wanted to charge in and sever that bastard’s head. He wanted to silence that disgusting mouth forever, but he couldn't move.
Was it because the Heavenly Demon was threatening the refugees?
No. Ordinarily, the Sword Immortal would have believed he could intercept the attack and kill the fiend simultaneously. But he couldn't bring himself to strike.
The lives of the refugees were important, yes. But in his heart, he believed that executing the traitor who brought chaos to the world came first. To eliminate such a threat, some sacrifices were unavoidable.
The problem wasn't the refugees.
‘I can’t see him.’
The problem was that he couldn’t gauge the Heavenly Demon’s power.
As he stared at the man floating in the air, the Sword Immortal pushed his senses to their absolute limit.
‘…Why can’t I sense anything?’
There was absolutely nothing coming from the man called the Heavenly Demon.
‘I… I can’t feel a single thing?’
It was as if the man was there, yet didn't exist. A void in reality. Witnessing this impossible phenomenon, the Sword Immortal wiped away a bead of cold sweat. No matter how weak a person was, he should have been able to feel at least a hint of their presence.
A situation like this could only mean one thing. The gap in power was so immense that he couldn't even perceive the man's existence.
‘Impossible…!’
The answer was right in front of him, but the Sword Immortal refused to believe it. How could such a monster exist?
His gaze shifted to his side. There stood the Heavenly Venerable, calmly watching the Heavenly Demon. He could clearly feel the presence of the Heavenly Venerable, one of the Three Venerables—so why was this masked man a total void?
‘He must be using some kind of witchcraft.’
It had to be a trick; there was no other explanation. He tried to force himself to believe that.
‘But… what if?’
What if this Heavenly Demon was truly a monster whose level was beyond human comprehension? What if the reason he had descended so confidently, knowing the barrier was down and they were free…
‘…is because he truly can annihilate all of us by himself?’
It was an absurd thought, but that sliver of doubt kept the Sword Immortal’s feet rooted to the ground.
And.
‘Yes.’
Watching the Sword Immortal’s hesitation, Gu Yangcheon wore a quiet, hidden smile.
‘Stay just like that.’
This was exactly the outcome he had gambled on. He had hoped they would react this way—hesitation masking their rage, unable to act because they couldn't read their opponent. This was the very picture Gu Yangcheon had been painting.
“Hooooo…”
He focused on steadying his breathing. He could feel his heart being squeezed in a vice, but he had to endure.
‘…My body is a wreck. Even this is pushing it.’
The Heavenly Demon in the sky was not a person acting on his behalf. That being was a pure creation of his own power—the Power of Wind he had absorbed from Mang.
Gu Yangcheon was using that power to manifest the illusion of the Heavenly Demon.
‘…I practiced this constantly, and of all times, my body has to be in this state.’
To create something from nothing. As long as he knew the details intimately, he could manifest it. That was the true essence of ‘Wind.’ When he first obtained this power, a thought had struck him: ‘If I use this well… I might just be able to pull it off.’
He had been devastated when he passed Regeneration on to Woo Hyuk, but in a way, he now realized it was for the best. As long as he had salvaged the Wind, he was content. That was how versatile this power was.
To create anything he knew in detail—it was a ridiculously overpowered trait. From the moment he realized he could master it, Gu Yangcheon had been preparing this grand deception.
The plan required three conditions to be met:
1. Could he create a convincing human form with the Wind?
2. Could that form produce a realistic voice?
3. Could he maintain the creation for at least a few minutes?
Every night, he had trained until his energy was spent. He had eventually succeeded in manifesting the Heavenly Demon and holding the form for seven and a half minutes.
‘…But real-world application is a different beast.’
Right now, seven minutes felt like an eternity. Even the few minutes he had initially aimed for was a struggle. Creating the body was one thing, but making it move naturally was another. The subtle rise and fall of the chest with every breath, the fluttering of hair, the natural shifts in posture to avoid looking like a statue—he was burning through his strength just to maintain those minute details.
It was a mental marathon.
‘This is insane.’
This was on a completely different level from the dissonance he felt when dispelling the barrier. In terms of difficulty, this was hundreds of times harder. Why were they making such a fuss over a mere barrier?
His body was screaming from the previous battle, and the internal energy he had managed to save was draining in an instant.
‘The slightest misstep and the whole thing collapses.’
He had to endure. If the illusion unraveled now, everything was over. After all the hell he’d crawled through to get here, he couldn’t let it fail at the finish line.
Wooooong—!!!
He maintained the power, swallowing the metallic taste of blood rising in his throat. Even then, the Heavenly Demon’s mouth continued to move.
[Justice has already crumbled. Do you wretches truly believe yourselves to be righteous?]
[You are wrong.]
[If righteousness and chivalry are justice, then you have no right to claim them.]
[You narrow-minded, arrogant insects. You remnants who, in your haste to protect your own status, have long forgotten your true essence.]
Gu Yangcheon felt his limit approaching. He hunched his shoulders slightly.
‘Not yet.’
Just a little longer.
[You are not justice.]
There was still one more thing to say.
[As of today, I am certain.]
He squeezed his heart with every last ounce of strength. As he did, the Heavenly Demon’s voice grew even clearer, echoing with authority.
[You are not needed in the world I will create.]
The words struck like a divine decree. The martial artists began to murmur, a sense of profound alarm filling the air. They were wound tight, waiting for the Heavenly Demon’s next move.
Just as the tension reached its breaking point.
[However.]
The Heavenly Demon suddenly lowered the hand he had been pointing at the refugees. Everyone’s eyes widened. What was he doing?
[I shall be magnanimous and grant you one chance.]
A chance? Every eye focused on him, hanging on his next word.
Swoosh.
The Heavenly Demon moved his hand, extending a finger toward the crowd of martial artists. He was pointing at someone.
As if hypnotized, everyone followed the direction of his finger. There, a young man was hunched over, gasping for air. His body was a ruin. He was staggering, barely able to support his own weight, looking as though he might collapse at any second.
But even in that state, his bloodshot eyes were fixed intently on the Heavenly Demon.
[You there. What is your name?]
“...”
The Heavenly Demon had asked for his name. The young man, his eyes blazing with defiance, answered.
“…Gu… Yang… Cheon.”
His voice was ragged and broken, a testament to his exhaustion.
[Gu Yangcheon. I see.]
As if committing the name to memory, the Heavenly Demon continued.
[For the struggle of an insect, it was quite a spectacle. To see something so fine among this rabble…]
Swoooosh—!!
As he spoke, the Heavenly Demon’s body began to drift upward into the sky.
[I will let it pass today. To dirty my feet by crushing an insect… I am in too good a mood for that.]
The implication was clear: I could kill you all, but I’ll spare you out of whim.
[So, the next time I visit, I hope you will provide a little more entertainment.]
With those final words, the Heavenly Demon ascended.
“…Heavenly Demon! Are you trying to flee again…!”
The Sword Immortal, unable to contain himself, prepared to give chase.
KRRRRRUUUMBLE—!!!
“…!”
“Gah!”
A blinding flash of light erupted. Along with a deafening clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning Qi exploded through the air. It was unleashed by none other than the Heavenly Venerable.
Everyone covered their ears at the roar, but their eyes remained fixed on the sky.
“That… that’s…”
Someone let out a choked gasp. The lightning Qi fired by the Heavenly Venerable had pierced the Heavenly Demon’s torso clean through.
Had he been struck? Had the surprise attack worked? Hope flared in their hearts.
Ssssss….
“Hah!”
“Th-that’s…!!”
To their horror, the Heavenly Demon’s mangled body began to regenerate instantly. The hole in his torso filled with flesh without leaving a single scar. Even his uniform mended itself as if the attack had never happened.
It was a terrifying, supernatural sight.
“…Is he… truly a god?” someone whispered.
Normally, such a comment would be met with scorn, but no one could find the words to argue.
[Hmm.]
The Heavenly Demon patted his chest casually, then glanced at the Heavenly Venerable. Everyone held their breath, wondering if a true battle between titans was about to begin.
[A pity.]
The Heavenly Demon uttered that single phrase and continued his ascent, vanishing into the clouds along with the massive entity that had been waiting for him. For such a colossal presence to disappear so instantaneously… it left everyone speechless.
In the wake of the whirlwind of events, a sudden sound broke the silence.
“Cough—!!”
Someone collapsed, vomiting a spray of blood.
“Lesser King of Hell!”
It was Gu Yangcheon. He staggered, coughing up a torrent of black blood before his eyes rolled back. The martial artists rushed to his side.
“…He’s lost consciousness.”
“Quickly, find a healer…!”
The area became a hive of activity. There was so much to handle—the wounded, the dead, and the reconstruction. And so, despite the disaster, the Murim Alliance began to move forward.
But one man remained still.
The Sword Immortal stood in place, silently watching Gu Yangcheon. His expression was a complex mask, his gaze holding a strange, lukewarm heat. He continued to watch the boy until the Heavenly Venerable approached him, his face unreadable.
* * *
Three days had passed since the attack on Henan.
It was a short time, but the landscape of Henan had changed forever. The city had been laid to waste. Most of the inns were rubble. Merchant associations and families alike had lost everything. The damage was so extensive that it would take days just to clear the debris and years to restore the city’s former glory.
Despair hung heavy over the refugees.
But in the darkness, help arrived. The White Flower Merchant Association and the Jangwon Merchant Association—the two giants of the Central Plains—stepped forward immediately. They set up tents, distributed food, and pledged to provide free shelter and aid in the reconstruction.
Thanks to them, the people could breathe, but money couldn't solve everything.
The casualties were devastating. Among the fallen were several high-ranking figures of the Murim Alliance. Three Captains of the Eight Swordsmen Armies had perished: the Captains of the First Dragon, Wind Dragon, and Iron Dragon Armies.
The official report stated that the Captain of the First Dragon Army died a hero’s death fighting a high-ranking executive of the Demonic Cult. The Captain of the Wind Dragon Army had sacrificed her soul to dispel a wicked spell and save the Alliance Leader. The Captain of the Iron Dragon Army had achieved an honorable death, taking his enemy down with him.
This alone was a shock, but a far greater report followed.
“They say the Dao King has passed away…”
“…Hah… is that really true?”
The Lord of the Hebei Peng Clan, Dao King Peng Jeowoo, was dead.
“…Apparently, the same demon who killed the Captain of the First Dragon Army… also killed Lord Peng.”
“They say Lord Peng was attacked while he was unconscious, being protected by the Great Saint Blade.”
“The Great Saint Blade tried to fight back, but he couldn't save his father.”
“To kill a father in front of his own son… does such a monster truly exist?!”
The Great Saint Blade was currently in a coma, his injuries so severe he had yet to wake. The world began to whisper the name of the cruel individual responsible: the Ghostly Evil Spear.
“What is this world coming to…?”
“As if losing so many people wasn't enough… a disaster had to strike as well…”
“A disaster… are you talking about the White-Grade Demons?”
“Yes… damn it all, how long has it been since the Red-Grade Demons appeared…!”
White-Grade Demons. This was perhaps the most terrifying news of all. It had been three years since the Red-Grade Demons first appeared, and the world was barely managing to contain them. For White-Grade Demons to appear now was a sign of the end times.
“According to witnesses… it was a catastrophe. If it hadn't been stopped… Henan would have been wiped off the map.”
“It’s truly… truly a relief.”
“Indeed… it is because he was there that we are still breathing.”
A strange sense of peace washed over the people as they thought of a specific person. Despite the loss of three Captains and a Great Clan Lord, they felt a glimmer of hope.
“They say a hero appears when the world falls into chaos. Isn't that right?”
“It is. A hero indeed.”
“Didn't they say even the Heavenly Demon acknowledged him?”
“Yes. My nephew is in the Alliance; he saw it. That great evil actually acknowledged him.”
The Heavenly Demon—the master of the Demonic Cult who had summoned White-Grade Demons and played with the Alliance like toys—was now the most feared name in the Central Plains.
However, the people had a counterweight to that fear.
“He saved my life.”
“You too? I was about to be buried alive when he pulled me out.”
“I was being cornered by an assailant when he intervened.”
The rumors were shifting.
“You can’t believe everything you hear. All those stories about him being a lecher or having a nasty temper… it must have been jealousy.”
“I feel ashamed for ever believing those trivial rumors.”
“It’s a relief we know the truth now. To have someone to believe in during these times… we are fortunate.”
The people were all thinking of one man. On the day of the attack, while the Alliance was in disarray, someone had ignored the chaos to save people from collapsing buildings. He had reached out to those the Alliance had overlooked. He had charged into the horde of demons without hesitation, fighting as if his life meant nothing.
He had exhausted himself for the sake of others, then went straight to the Alliance to save the Leader. A young prodigy with immense power who didn't let it go to his head, but instead burned his own life force to save Henan.
The hero of the age, who earned the respect of even the Heavenly Demon.
“Ah, did you hear? The Alliance is changing his title to reflect his achievements.”
“A title? What is it?”
“Don’t be surprised. The title is…”
* * *
While the seeds of hope were being sown among the ruins, a different scene was unfolding at the White Flower Merchant Association’s residence.
Moyong Hi-ah walked gracefully down a corridor, carrying a tray of snacks. She stopped in front of a particular door and rapped on it with her white fingertips.
Knock, knock.
There was no response. Was he out? No, she knew better.
“Young Master. It’s time to eat,” she called out in a sweet voice.
Still nothing. Moyong Hi-ah pondered for a moment. Was he pretending to be asleep? Unlikely. He was the type to wake at the slightest sound. This was a deliberate act of defiance.
She suppressed a giggle. This was going to be fun.
She cleared her throat, preparing herself.
“Star King.”
The moment the words left her lips…
Creak—!
The door swung open, and Gu Yangcheon poked his head out.
“You should have just come out sooner,” Moyong Hi-ah said, beaming at him.
Gu Yangcheon looked at her, his face twisted in a mask of pure agony.
“…Please… I’m begging you… don’t call me that.”