Murim Login - Chapter 248

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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 248
Dharma King Hung-do, who had been nodding off in the Daewoong Hall, suddenly opened his eyes.
The first thing that entered his vision upon waking was the small back of someone standing motionless, gazing up at the Buddha statue.
“When did you arrive?”
“About an hour ago.”
“Well then, did you meet with your proud disciple?”
Jeok Cheon-gang answered without turning around, his voice gruff.
“Disciple? How many times must I say it’s not like that?”
“Oh, so you are proud of him after all.”
“Hmph. Of course I should be. What’s so special about the Seongnae Daeyeon preliminaries anyway?”
“You’ve never participated in one yourself.”
“In my day, there was no such thing. The orthodox sects would just fight among themselves, calling each other the Southern or Northern Martial World. What’s the difference?”
“That’s true enough.”
Hung-do stretched, his joints cracking audibly throughout his body.
“Still, it’s uncanny. I didn’t sense your presence at all. Has your martial prowess grown even further in the time we haven’t seen each other?”
“Why would ghosts weep? It’s the Buddha who should be angered. Here sits the abbot of Shaolin Temple, dozing like a sickly chicken in the Daewoong Hall.”
“Don’t be too harsh on an old friend growing old alongside you.”
Jeok Cheon-gang turned and bellowed.
“Old? Who’s old! You should have kept up with your martial training consistently. Look at me. Don’t I seem vigorous enough for another ten years?”
Hung-do examined Jeok Cheon-gang carefully and rolled his prayer beads.
“Benefactor Jeok, may you achieve enlightenment and be reborn in paradise.”
“What a cursed monk you are!”
At his old friend’s reaction, Hung-do chuckled softly.
“Ten years may be uncertain, but three years seems possible.”
“Did the Heavenly Mandate or something tell you that?”
“The Heavenly Mandate—according to what this humble monk observed long ago, you should have been dead already.”
“What?”
In that instant, Jeok Cheon-gang’s face hardened. He could read sincerity in Hung-do’s expression and demeanor.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“The flow changed.”
“The flow changed?”
“Heaven is truly vast and ever-changing. When your star was losing its light, a new star rose in the Northern Lands.”
“…Jin Tae-kyung. That boy.”
“The Heavenly Mandate revealed to this monk that the Fire King stands in the path of the new star. Observing over the past year, it has proven true. Your star has shone brighter than ever before.”
Jeok Cheon-gang’s mind raced through all that had transpired.
He was aging and afflicted with the ailments of old age. He had begun searching for Jang Cheon, whom he had sent away long ago, to settle matters before his departure—to personally eliminate his wayward former disciple who was committing atrocities somewhere in the world, and to entrust the future of the Yeolhwa Sect to the Sword Saint of Huashan.
And then…
He had met that boy.
Old age is both a curse of time and a sickness of the heart.
Old age is both a curse of time and a sickness of the heart.
Just as Jeok Cheon-gang was about to let the word “life” slip from his grasp, a hand bearing the name Jin Tae-kyung caught it.
Thus Jeok Cheon-gang transformed.
The more I observed that talkative, reckless boy, the more the dying embers of desire rekindled in the depths of my heart.
‘I want to live longer. Much longer.’
To do so, I had to escape the infirmities of age that gnawed at my mind with each passing moment.
Over the past year, I had immersed myself even deeper in the martial arts. I learned while teaching, and gained enlightenment through contemplation.
It was not only Jin Tae-kyung who grew within Yeolhwa Cave. Jeok Cheon-gang had also taken a step forward.
“Three years, then….”
Jeok Cheon-gang’s low voice resonated through the Daewoong Hall.
“Soon enough, I’ll turn those three years into ten, or perhaps even a hundred.”
Hongdao burst into hearty laughter.
“Your ambition knows no bounds. How long do you intend to live?”
“I don’t know. I’ll just cling to life however I can.”
“You’d need to undergo rebirth three times over for that.”
“Damn it. Then I suppose ten years will have to suffice. So you hold on until then as well. You still have strength to demonstrate.”
Hongdao quietly rolled his prayer beads.
“We are already waters that have flowed past. The Spear King, once so formidable, and the Wave King, once so spirited—both have departed this world. Those who remain have aged as much as they ever will. And whoever disappeared may already be dead.”
The Ten Kings was a title given to ten supreme masters who displayed their might during the Great Confrontation.
Some of them had faded with time, others had fallen to enemies’ hands.
Though called the Ten Kings, they were truly eight, and now they had reached an age where they must prepare for death.
Jeok Cheon-gang, who had been sighing heavily, suddenly cried out.
“Stop that defeatist talk! What kind of self-pity is this?”
Yet Hongdao opened his mouth with a serene expression.
“Mu-myeong. I entrusted him with the Jade Buddha Staff last night.”
!”
“By the time he completes his preparation in Nahan Cave and emerges, he will have grown into a worthy vessel. I have already chosen who will assume the abbot’s position until then.”
“What, what did you say?”
Jeok Cheon-gang found himself stammering without realizing it.
The Jade Buddha Staff was a sacred treasure of Shaolin Temple passed down for a thousand years. Not only had he entrusted this treasure to his disciple, but he had also already chosen the next abbot.
In Jeok Cheon-gang’s eyes, Hongdao now resembled someone preparing to depart after relinquishing everything.
“Monk. Are you perhaps….”
His words trailed off, but what would follow was sufficiently clear.
A faint smile played at the corners of Hongdao’s mouth.
“This humble monk intends to withdraw after this Seongnae Daeyeon. If Heaven permits, I may yet cling to life for another year or so. But that will be all.”
“Does Heaven speak thus?”
“I must rest now. Please take your leave.”
“Now see here, Hongdao!”
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Hongdao picked up the wooden fish and began striking it. The clear sound resonated through the Daewoong Hall, and Jeok Cheon-gang, his mouth sealed shut, only turned to leave after a long while.
* * *
The preliminary screening conducted over four days had done its job well.
Out of over fifty thousand applicants, only one percent—roughly five hundred—had earned the right to advance to the main tournament.
The organizers had gathered them all in one place.
Of course, I was among them.
“Look over there. It’s Jin Tae-kyung, the Shanxi Sleeping Dragon.”
“What? That green kid? He looks younger than my youngest disciple.”
“What does age matter? It’s the martial skill that counts. Still, it’s remarkable. Just one year under the Fire King, and he’s already come this far…”
“Damn. Has he become a heavenly prodigy or something?”
I turned toward the voice. A man who appeared to be in his early thirties flinched and quickly averted his gaze.
He seemed to expect me to say something, but he’d completely misjudged.
‘Kid’s got good instincts.’
The system’s potential was boundless. Jeok Cheon-gang’s exceptional physique, which had once earned him the title of heavenly prodigy, had developed even further during my training at Jiuhua Mountain.
Eventually, even Jeok Cheon-gang would shake his head in disbelief.
‘A monster. How much higher does he intend to climb?’
‘I’ll go as far as I can.’
‘If the Old Master had possessed even half the physique you have, the Martial World would have two gods instead of one by now.’
‘But he doesn’t, does he?’
‘…Add another hundred pounds of iron weights.’
I’d gotten myself into more trouble by being cheeky, but ultimately, even those experiences had become invaluable to me.
Effort—or rather, the system—never betrayed me.
The system dispensed points and experience with precision, and with my absurdly high base stats, any martial technique I deployed was several times more effective.
‘I was able to defeat three of the Ten Dragons and Phoenixes, who are renowned in their respective fields, precisely because of that.’
Among them, Chul Soo Shin-ryong of the Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance had even withdrawn from the Seongnae Daeyeon.
When I asked why he’d go that far, he said that as long as I was here, he couldn’t win the championship anyway, so he might as well head home early.
I’m not sure whether to call him simple or clever, but he’s definitely cool-headed.
On the other hand…
“Alas, the righteousness of the Martial World has fallen to the ground. How did such a frivolous and violent wretch come to possess such power? Oh, heavens!”
“You worthless bastard. You deserve to be soaked in a cesspool for three months and ten days.”
“This is absurd. Does this mean my knowledge is inferior to that ruffian’s martial skill? Impossible. I must establish a new theoretical framework for mechanical engineering.”
Those three are hopeless.
Listening to their endless muttering behind me, I suddenly turned around.
“Hey, you three idiots.”
At my call, their muttering ceased immediately.
The next moment, the “three idiots” lifted their heads sharply and each expressed their anger in their own way.
“Idiots? Such crude language!”
This Taoist in pristine white robes, untouched by a speck of dust, was Konryun Un-ryong Baek Woo. He’d been knocked down in the third screening when I stepped on his face.
I later learned he had obsessive-compulsive disorder and had showered for two hours straight after the screening ended.
“You filthy-mouthed bastard.”
Unlike Baek Woo, this one reeked of filth just to look at him—a beggar through and through.
Born in the Beggar Clan, raised there, and eventually rising to the position of Hu Gae, the future leader of the Beggar Clan, his name was Gung Ki-bang.
The so-called Beggar Prince, the noble beggar, the upper beggar.
Gung Ki-bang had taken a blow to the solar plexus as payment for grabbing the back of my neck during the fourth trial.
“Fool? You dare speak to me in such a manner? What was your intention in uttering such a word? If you truly understand the precise meaning of the word ‘fool,’ perhaps you could explain it to me?”
The last was Shin Ki Myo-ryong from the Jeongal Family, Jegal Gyun.
Dressed in the neat attire of a scholar, wearing a dignified hero’s crown. Looking at his clothing alone, this man seemed the most sane of the bunch.
It was only natural, standing as he did between a fastidious Daoist who wouldn’t tolerate a speck of dust on his robes and a beggar who seemed capable of eating deliciously even with filth flying into his mouth.
But as I had suspected, this one was no ordinary character either.
During the fifth trial, the Mechanism Formation Test, he had expressed considerable regret over his loss.
‘Look at this lineup….’
A roster more formidable than Ferguson’s Manchester United.
Standing these three side by side left me breathless and my vision darkening. After steadying my breathing, I opened my mouth.
“All of you, shut your mouths. Stop your incessant prattling and noise.”
“Hah, did you just say ‘mouths’? Listen here, Jin Tae-kyung, fellow cultivator. How is it that every word from your lips manages to be so vulgar?”
“A wretch who deserves to be rolled up in a mat, hung up, and beaten with a cudgel for a month and a half without mercy.”
“Shut your mouth. Stop your prattling… Such words are not commonly used in the Main Residence. I find myself personally curious, so would you be willing to transcribe the words you typically use?”
“….”
Ah, I just wanted to beat them all senseless.
Lamenting the reality that I could not, I spoke to these three fools.
“Know this—if we meet in the martial tournament, you’ll all be dead.”
“…!”
“…!”
“…!”
Indeed, a cudgel is the cure for madmen.
It was just as the three fools clamped their mouths shut and exchanged glances.
Tap. Tap.
The sound of something hard striking the ground pierced everyone’s ears.
Then, ascending the platform came an old man with a wooden prosthetic leg on one side.
“Sorry for being late. As you can see, my leg is in this condition.”
He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth, and introduced himself.
“Pleased to meet you all. I am Song Ho, the Thousand-Faced Fox.”

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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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