Murim Login - Chapter 158

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 158
Seven days and nights.
It had been seven cycles of day and night since I began my martial contest with Chung Poong. Eyes closed, I contemplated the situation.
‘According to the Quest window, I need to defeat Chung Poong before the First Day of the Year….’
Now only four days remained. How many times had I fought Chung Poong so far?
I knew only that we’d had at least sixty bouts. Of course, it was a flawless streak of complete defeats without a single exception.
‘And he hasn’t even used sword energy.’
Chung Poong wasn’t fighting at full strength. For a master at his peak not to use sword energy was indeed a tremendous handicap, yet even without it, Chung Poong was formidable.
Since childhood, he’d trained under Geom-seong Maejong-hak, mastering the supreme techniques of the Huashan Sect.
Even Jin Moo-kyung, counted among the Orthodox Martial Arts World’s finest rising talents, had fallen to Chung Poong.
‘Though Jin Moo-kyung was injured at the time… he’s definitely different.’
I recalled Chung Poong’s movements, which I’d seen ad nauseam. Pure elegance itself.
While it stemmed from the nature of his martial arts, it ultimately required his own overwhelming strength to achieve.
‘He’s simply a level above me.’
Truth be told, I hadn’t revealed everything either.
There was the skill that performed its role splendidly each time—One Flash—the inventory system, and the [Nameless Sword] capable of countering Chung Poong’s sword energy.
But this was a martial contest, not a life-or-death battle where stakes were survival.
‘I must win through martial arts alone.’
For me, the system was my final trump card.
In fights where a hair’s breadth determined life and death, it could turn the tide, but if my attacks were blocked even with the system’s aid, only death awaited me.
Truly the final move. There is nothing after.
‘I can’t rely on the system every time we fight.’
The world was vast, and masters were numerous.
To prepare for powerful enemies I might face at any moment, honing my own martial arts was paramount.
“Exhale.”
With a deep breath, the steadily flowing forty-five years of internal energy coiled once more in my dantian.
Ding.
–
[Breathing Circulation]
has been completed successfully.
–
The realm of [Jin Family Heart Method]
rises slightly.
– Stamina and fatigue are restored.
Opening my eyes, Chung Poong and Hyuk Moo-jin locked in fierce combat entered my vision first.
Thud! Boom-boom-boom-boom!
“Kugh!”
“….”
Correction: not fierce combat, but rather taking a relentless barrage of blows.
Hyuk Moo-jin, unable to gather his wits against the torrential onslaught of the Compound Palm technique, gritted his teeth.
“Ha!”
The sword in his hand extended like a beam of light.
The sword technique wasn’t particularly varied or showing any unusual prowess, but the fundamentals were solid. He had likely swung the same sword thousands, tens of thousands of times.
Whoosh! Whish!
Head, shoulder, then chest—Hyuk Moo-jin thrust his blade toward Chung Poong’s chest after I evaded three consecutive attacks in an instant.
Screech!
A clean, sharp strike without unnecessary movement. But his opponent was formidable.
“Wow, you felt quite a bit of pressure, didn’t you?”
Between the index and middle fingers of the smiling Chung Poong, the blade trembled violently with concentrated force.
Bare-handed blade catching.
A technique only possible when one’s martial prowess far exceeded the opponent’s.
Hyuk Moo-jin’s face flushed red at this unexpected humiliation.
“Ugh!”
“No matter how hard you push, it’s futile…”
Suddenly, Chung Poong’s eyes widened.
Hyuk Moo-jin, who seemed to be putting more force into the trapped blade, suddenly released the sword hilt and leaped into his embrace.
‘Look at this guy.’
A smirk escaped me. I roughly understood why Hyuk Moo-jin, who had been fighting with honest martial arts until now, was doing this.
‘A dog at a village school learns poetry after three years.’
This was a method I frequently employed. Abandoning one’s weapon—a martial artist’s lifeline—to catch the opponent off-guard and seize the advantage.
A good attempt, but there was one critical flaw: the opponent’s skill was far too high for such a technique.
Boom!
With a sound like a drum bursting, one person’s body flew through the air. I chuckled as I looked down at Hyuk Moo-jin, who had landed at my feet.
“Did you lose?”
After coughing and retching violently, Hyuk Moo-jin replied curtly.
“You saw it all, so why ask?”
“How many times is this?”
“This makes ninety times.”
“Soon you’ll reach a hundred. How about the epithet ‘Hundred Battles, Hundred Defeats’?”
“I’ll pass.”
“Still, that last move wasn’t bad.”
At my praise, Hyuk Moo-jin’s ears twitched.
“Really?”
“Yeah. But the skill gap was too wide. Adjust your approach based on your opponent.”
“I knew it. I was wondering why you were suddenly praising me.”
“Will that help you land even a single blow?”
“If Chung Poong hadn’t used his palm technique, I could have landed at least one hit.”
As Hyuk Moo-jin grumbled with his mouth hanging wide open, Chung Poong came running over with a bright expression.
“Are you alright?”
“Wait, didn’t we agree to only use fist techniques?”
“I’m planning to start using it now. My skills are improving much faster than I expected.”
“Hmm. Well, do as you see fit then.”
Look at Hyuk Moo-jin grinning like that—his mouth’s about to split open.
Under normal circumstances, I would have interjected and given him a sharp retort, but I found myself agreeing considerably with Chung Poong’s assessment.
‘He really is improving quickly.’
Over the past week, it wasn’t just I who had grown. Hyuk Moo-jin had as well.
Though he had Chung Poong’s assistance, he completed the Wall Tiger technique training despite his abilities lagging considerably behind, and his skills had improved enough that Chung Poong drew his palm technique first.
‘That’s not all, though.’
I activated [Qi Sense] to check Hyuk Moo-jin’s level.
Ding.
–
[Qi Sense]
has been activated. At your current 6-star realm, you can detect targets of Lv.80 or below within 60 zhang.
–
[Qi Sense]
has identified the target.
[Lv.50 Hyuk Moo-jin]
Just ten days ago, Hyuk Moo-jin’s level had been 48. But through training, he had risen two levels.
‘Level 50 already?’
By checking levels through the system, I could roughly gauge an opponent’s strength.
However, most people’s levels remained stagnant or improved so slowly that it was difficult to notice.
‘But this Hyuk Moo-jin fellow—his level keeps climbing steadily.’
Suddenly, I recalled when I first met Hyuk Moo-jin.
Back then, he was merely level 20. Though not quite at my level, which had already surpassed 60, his leveling speed was nonetheless extraordinary.
‘Perhaps it’s because he’s been rolling around beside me.’
Come to think of it, traveling with me, he’d endured every hardship imaginable. Had he naturally tempered himself through real combat experience?
Hyuk Moo-jin asked, noticing my gaze as if I were observing some curious creature.
“What is it?”
“Huh? No, nothing. I’m just thinking you’ve definitely improved quite a bit.”
“Ahem, ahem!”
“I’ve shown you kindness. From now on, you’re my pinky finger.”
“…Your kindness is rather stingy, isn’t it?”
“You haven’t heard the saying about the aching pinky finger?”
“So you’re saying I’m your aching pinky finger, sir?”
“No. Just remember that saying exists.”
“….”
“Now then, let’s set aside our undefeated great swordmaster Hyuk Moo-jin.”
“I told you not to use that nickname!”
Ignoring Hyuk Moo-jin’s protest, I steadied my breathing and stepped forward.
“So, would you like to try a breathing exercise with me?”
Chung Poong answered with a bright smile.
“I barely moved, so I’m not even sweating.”
Moo-jin was going to cry, really cry.
I laughed along, following Chung Poong’s radiant smile.
“Now you’ll work up a sweat.”
“An Unseen Immortal is an interesting opponent.”
It was an unusually bold tone for Chung Poong. But from what I’d observed so far, this was his true nature—his competitive spirit as a martial artist.
I clearly remembered that when he unsheathed his sword against Jin Moo-kyung, he hadn’t smiled for even a single moment.
“It’ll stop being fun now.”
“That’s fine. Winning is always fun. Hehe.”
“You’re confident you won’t regret those words?”
“Yes! I’m winning without even using my sword energy right now!”
“….”
Damn. My chest tightened for a moment.
I steadied my turbulent heart against the brutal facts and gripped my spear with all my strength.
“This time will be different.”
“My Grandfather said that kind of talk is what amateurs say. True masters prove themselves through action.”
“Don’t worry. I’m planning to do exactly that from now on.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I gazed at Chung Poong, still grinning widely, and muttered silently to myself.
‘Open status window.’
Ding.
Status Window
[Lv.64 Jin Tae-kyung]
Occupation
: First-Rate Martial Artist
Renown
: 2400 (+250)
Titles
: 5 (Title effects applied)
– Returnee (All stats +10)
– Shanxi Sleeping Dragon (All stats +15, Renown +200)
– Child of a Prestigious House (All stats +5, Renown +50)
– Gambler (One-on-one combat: combat-related stats +10%)
– Intermediate Cultivator (Training speed +20%)
Strength
: 205 (+30)
Endurance
: 207 (+30)
Agility
: 200 (+30)
Intellect
: 40 (+30)
Charm
: 40 (+30)
Cultivation
: 45 years
Resilience
: 200 (+30)
Remaining Points
: 100
– Distribute your remaining points.
My combat stats had finally broken through 200 thanks to training in the Bi Hu Gong and sparring. And now I had the remaining points I’d been carefully accumulating for whenever I faced an enemy.
In this moment, I wasn’t envious of even the greatest master under heaven.
“I’ve been saving this carefully… but I’m using it because of you.”
“Pardon?”
“Sword energy, Zahashin Gong—whatever you prefer. Give it your all.”
“Then wouldn’t it be too bland?”
“You’ll have to taste it first before judging whether it’s spicy or bland.”
Before my words even finished, a command was already being transmitted from my mind to the system.
‘Allocate 50 points to Agility.’
Whoooosh.
This was a sensation only I could feel in this world.
In the moment when an unprecedented force, flowing from I knew not where, swept across my entire body like a tidal wave.
“Let’s start with the raccoon’s mild flavor first.”
Screeeech!
The spear began moving at a speed I’d never witnessed before.
* * *
Whoosh, splash!
Chung Poong twisted his neck. The hair tied tightly at the back of his head scattered into the air.
But the spear’s movements didn’t end there.
Whooom, screeeech!
A dozen spear shadows rushed from all directions. Chung Poong stepped forward without hesitation.
Crash!
The remaining blue stone shattered, sending earth flying. Jin Tae-kyung watched as Chung Poong had already retreated three paces and asked.
“I thought so. The Dark Fragrance Drifting technique?”
“Mixed with the Five Elements Plum Blossom Steps.”
“Can you even do that?”
“Apparently you can?”
“So, how does it taste?”
“It’s bland. Very bland.”
“That’s possible. For now.”
As I finished speaking, my body suddenly trembled, and I laughed.
“From now on, I’m Jin’s spicy flavor.”
The moment those incomprehensible words ended, I lunged forward.
My spear blade, thrust upward as if to pierce the sun itself, descended with a terrifying sound of splitting air.
Whoooosh!
In that instant, Chung Poong drew his sword. Already, a violet aura was vividly coalescing on his blade.
No—not just the sword, but his entire body radiated the Purple Void Divine Technique.
Crash!
Force colliding against force. And a sound as if the heavens themselves were splitting.
The smile vanished from Chung Poong’s lips. A considerable recoil transmitted through his aching wrists.
‘How is this possible?’
Different. Vastly different. The saying “seeing with fresh eyes” paled in comparison.
Before he could even blink, Jin Tae-kyung had grown stronger, and then stronger still.
‘And the internal force…’
The Purple Void Divine Technique was an internal cultivation method of extreme yang nature. Yet the power transmitted through Jin Tae-kyung’s spear was no less formidable.
Chung Poong felt a faint vibration emanating from the spear blade pressing down against his sword.
Hum, huuuum.
Those who had reached the peak of mastery heard a certain resonance before breaking through the wall, it was said.
A martial artist’s weapon—as vital as life itself—was always the first to sense its master’s transformation.
Internal force that had reached enlightenment. Bones and muscles prepared to become a supreme master.
When all these conditions were satisfied, a sound like this emerged.
‘The sword’s cry?’
Not a sword but a spear—so it was the spear’s cry.
Watching Chung Poong’s mouth fall open, I laughed.
“Now, I’m Pu’s spicy flavor.”
Rumble rumble rumble.
Accompanied by the weight of a thousand pounds, the spear’s cry rang out even louder.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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