Murim Login - Chapter 174

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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 174
“Huh? Fire Sword Jin Baek-yang—isn’t he the one my benefactor killed? Right?”
Only one thought crossed my mind in that instant.
‘I should have gagged this bastard’s mouth long ago.’
Is that even a person? More like a beast.
But it was already too late. Chung Poong was already rampaging like a pit bull with its leash cut loose.
“It’s quite a famous story, you know. My benefactor drove his spear straight through the Fire Sword’s chest after a fierce battle—thrust! Blood sprayed everywhere!”
Please, stop. Shut up, you lunatic.
I had to stop this now. Just as I was about to open my mouth in panic—
“And you even cursed at the Fire Sword, didn’t you? Get your hands off, you bastard!”
“…Where did you hear that from?”
“Everyone I met knew about it. When I mentioned I was close to my benefactor, so many people came and told me all sorts of things. Even the head chef prepared plenty of delicious food for me.”
No wonder he was away so often.
It seemed he’d been wandering around the Taewon Jin Family Estate, eating and gathering information from all corners.
‘And now I’m completely screwed because of it.’
I swallowed hard and slowly turned my head. Jeok Cheon-gang stood there with an utterly unreadable expression.
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
Jeok Cheon-gang’s eyebrows twitched.
“A misunderstanding?”
“Yes. Truly. Really.”
“A misunderstanding. That’s possible. Rumors that circulate through the Murim are always twisted and exaggerated anyway.”
His voice was dry and measured.
“So then, you didn’t kill the Fire Sword?”
“Well… that part I did do. But this is—”
“Then there’s nothing more to hear.”
I couldn’t continue speaking. Just a few steps ahead, I could see Jeok Cheon-gang’s two hands glowing crimson with power.
Whoooosh.
I felt it. An absolutely tremendous surge of martial force.
The chill shattered into fragments as a scorching desert wind swept through. The heat that forced its way between my lips felt as though it would incinerate my lungs.
A memory from just a few months ago flashed through my mind.
‘Flame Divine Form?’
Yes. The Flame Divine Form. But it was different from Jo Pil’s version.
It was several times stronger—stronger and simply overwhelming. Jeok Cheon-gang was no longer an old man with only a few days left to live.
He was the Fire King incarnate.
“To defy the natural order and kill the Fire Sword—are you truly even human?”
“Wait, please! There are quite profound and complicated circumstances behind all this—”
That was a mistake.
I should have blurted out that the Grand Elder betrayed the Taewon Jin Family instead of talking about circumstances.
Profound and complicated circumstances?
‘Damn it, I should have waited for him to let me speak first.’
For a moment, I forgot who stood before me.
Fire King Jeok Cheon-gang.
The man who had burned a thousand people to death for the simple reasons of trespassing and arson—he and words like profundity or complexity existed light-years apart.
Roooaaar!
Damn this old bastard….
True to his name as the Fire King, he was brutally simple and explosive. I felt the heat of the Flame Divine Palm wash over me as my eyes widened.
‘Is this the Flowing Time technique?’
In the slowed world, his palm engulfed in flames crept toward my chest with agonizing slowness.
If Jo Pil’s Flame Divine Palm was a mild bone broth, this was a spicy seafood stew. One loaded with scorching peppers.
Taking a direct hit from something like that meant I couldn’t guarantee my life.
‘I have to block it.’
The problem was I couldn’t move a single finger.
The world flowing slowly around me was merely the effect of my brain recognizing the mortal danger—not because Jeok Cheon-gang had slowed down or I had sped up.
‘Damn it.’
I desperately tried to raise my hand, but it was already too late.
In that moment of suffocating despair, Jeok Cheon-gang’s blazing palm filled my entire vision.
Shrieeeeek! Boom!
A single sword energy suddenly shot forth, striking Jeok Cheon-gang’s hand.
A vivid violet sword energy. It was Chung Poong. Beyond the thunderous sound, I heard his desperate cry.
“Benefactor!”
A desperate shout. Jeok Cheon-gang’s Flame Divine Palm could not be stopped by Chung Poong’s sword energy. It only slowed for the briefest moment.
But the boundary between life and death is drawn in precisely that instant.
‘Now!’
Forty-five years of cultivation coiled in my dantian stirred to life. The heat energy that erupted like wildfire surged through countless meridians.
My destination: both hands. I stretched my arms with all my might toward Jeok Cheon-gang’s Flame Divine Palm.
‘Damn it. No time to draw a weapon.’
Against a Flame Divine Palm, all I could think of was bare hands.
It was clearly madness, but… it was the best madness I could manage in this situation.
A roar erupted from the depths of my being.
“Chung Poong, you bastard!”
In the moment our palms finally met.
Gooooong.
A deafening sound that split the ears tore through the air.
* * *
A sound as if the heavens were splitting. After a brief silence, the change began.
Psssssh.
Ash scattered and fell. The stone wall I had carefully built ten years ago, the few trees planted in the corner of the courtyard. All of it.
Black ash that had been fluttering down settled upon the old man’s white hair.
“This, what is this….”
The old man, Jang Tae-bo, could not control his trembling body.
He had spent decades in the Martial World—enough time for mountains and rivers to transform six times over.
Though merely a blacksmith without martial training, it was precisely this that allowed him to encounter countless individuals.
‘I beseech you thus. If you desire it, I shall offer even my own life!’
‘Forge me the finest blade under heaven.’
‘Are you truly the master of the Iron Technique House? The Prince Consort sent me.’
From bumbling martial artists to the masters of renowned sects. And beyond them, the wielders of imperial authority.
Those who sought Jang Tae-bo were diverse in every way, yet his answer remained eternally consistent.
‘I shall forge it only if you prove yourself worthy.’
Jang Tae-bo believed that every blade possessed a soul.
For a crude, rounded lump of metal to take form, it must endure thousands upon thousands of tribulations. Bent repeatedly, hammered relentlessly. Heated until blazing, then cooled until frigid.
Only after such an arduous journey of suffering does it finally acquire a soul.
‘Thus, selecting a master worthy of the weapon becomes my calling as well.’
Depending on whose hands it falls into, a blade becomes either an instrument of death or an instrument of salvation.
Jang Tae-bo understood this truth profoundly, and therefore never accepted commissions carelessly.
‘Those of gentle temperament, those consumed by ambition, those walking their own solitary path….’
As the saying goes, a hundred people, a hundred colors. Throughout his life, countless individuals of differing natures had received weapons from him and returned to the Martial World.
Some perished, others survived, yet they all shared one commonality.
‘They were formidable. Every last one of them.’
They were masters capable of becoming tyrants of entire regions.
Powerful individuals who could guard treasures coveted by all and wield them according to their own principles.
Among them were even those whose martial prowess rivaled the leaders of the Nine Major Sects and One Alliance and the Five Great Families of the Land.
Yet….
‘This one, this man is different.’
The Fire King, Jeok Cheon-gang.
The aura and martial power emanating from that diminutive frame were no longer those of a mortal.
He also realized that this man would have need of no weapon whatsoever.
‘His martial prowess has touched the heavens.’
What he grasps, or whether he grasps anything at all—such things no longer matter.
The transcendent pinnacle he had vaguely pondered all these years was precisely this.
“Haaah.”
Jang Tae-bo exhaled the breath he had been holding. As strength drained from his body, something tumbled from his robes.
So impossibly hard and light that it defied belief for a mineral, it radiated a subtle luminescence even in broad daylight.
“Oh no!”
A treasure destined to be reborn as his final and life’s greatest masterwork. He scrambled to retrieve the Eternal Iron Steel and clutched it to his chest, then froze.
As his senses returned, a forgotten truth suddenly surfaced—the existence of his client.
“S-stop! Cease this! I beg you to stop!”
Jang Tae-bo rose and rushed forward desperately.
Beneath Jeok Cheon-gang’s feet lay a young man, his clothes entirely incinerated, sprawled naked and motionless.
“Is, is he dead?”
Jeok Cheon-gang did not answer. He merely stared with a terrifyingly rigid expression, alternating his gaze between his own hands and the youth.
“Say something, will you!”
“….”
“This, this bastard!”
It was the moment when Jang Tae-bo, bursting with fury, was about to check on the young man Jin Tae-kyung’s condition.
“He’s not dead. He’s merely lost consciousness from internal injuries.”
The owner of the clear voice that cut through the tension continued speaking.
“Isn’t that right, Grandfather Jeok?”
“…Yes.”
Finally, Jeok Cheon-gang’s voice emerged, thick with exhaustion.
Every word he spoke laid bare the astonishment and turbulent emotions he felt.
“I never intended to kill him from the start.”
Just as Chung Poong and Jang Tae-bo were exhaling sighs of relief, Jeok Cheon-gang added a brief remark.
“Until now, that is.”
“…!”
“…!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll decide everything after hearing the full story in detail later.”
Jeok Cheon-gang gazed down at the unconscious Jin Tae-kyung with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes.
“I have far too many questions for this boy.”
At those words, which sounded almost ominous, Jang Tae-bo stepped forward.
Even having witnessed the Fire King’s martial prowess firsthand, the steadfast resolve forged by decades could not be shaken.
“It sounds like you’re threatening torture.”
“I have no such hobby. But if necessary.”
“Do you not know who this young man is? If you thought you could make an enemy of the entire Shanxi Martial World and walk away unscathed, even as one of the Ten Kings, you are sorely mistaken!”
Jeok Cheon-gang chuckled softly.
“There were once men who commanded a hundred thousand troops and swallowed half the realm. Do you think I feared them?”
“…!”
Jang Tae-bo was left speechless.
That’s right—the man before him was the Fire King. The ancient monster of Jiuhua Mountain who once stood alone against the Demon Cult when it sought to dominate the realm.
Neither righteous nor evil, neither orthodox nor demonic. He had placed himself upon the scales of war itself.
The reason was simple: someone had encroached upon his domain.
Jeok Cheon-gang fixed Jang Tae-bo with eyes that burned like embers.
“I ask but one thing of you. Do not seek aid from anyone. At my age, I have no desire to set Shanxi’s Martial World ablaze.”
These words were sincere. And he possessed the power to transform them into reality.
“Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, I shall remember.”
“A wise choice.”
As Jeok Cheon-gang turned to leave with a faint smile, Jang Tae-bo’s legs gave way beneath him. Chung Poong, catching him as he stumbled, asked.
“Where are you going?”
“There should be an inn where you boys stayed, yes? I’ll be waiting there, so follow along.”
Chung Poong, watching Jeok Cheon-gang’s figure recede into the distance, muttered as if to himself.
“Sigh, Grandfather was right. That old man’s personality really is strange.”
He spoke words that would have made Jin Tae-kyung stuff a gag in his mouth if he’d heard them, then bowed respectfully toward Jang Tae-bo.
“I apologize for the trouble. Then I’ll be taking my leave.”
With that, he tucked Jin Tae-kyung and Hyuk Moo-jin under both his arms and dashed away with brisk, purposeful strides.
Jang Tae-bo stood there as if possessed by a ghost for a while, but it wasn’t long before he recalled a crucial fact he’d momentarily forgotten.
‘Fire King, have you ever seen such a damned old bastard.’
There were limits to how far one should push their luck.
He’d burned everything to ash except the foundation stones. Staring blankly at the cinders scattering in all directions, he heaved a deep sigh.
“Damn it, this place is finished too.”
It was the moment that put an end to his sweet retirement.

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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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