Murim Login - Chapter 252

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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 252
One day, two days, four days.
As time passed, the tournament bracket grew sparse. The number of participants that had reached five hundred on the first day of the main rounds had now dwindled to merely ten or so.
And alongside the crowd’s fervor intensifying with each passing day, one man’s spirits soared without limit.
“I’ve given this considerable thought….”
Fire King Red Sky River continued in a measured tone.
“It seems the Main Sect’s martial arts are indeed supreme under heaven. What do you all think?”
“….”
Those seated at the head table had to exert every ounce of effort to suppress their grimacing expressions.
This was no new occurrence, and they had anticipated it well enough, yet the bitterness in their hearts was unavoidable.
What made it worse was that they could not refute him.
Setting aside the fact that one could not cross the Fire King’s will, the performance displayed by his disciple, Shanxi Sleeping Dragon, had been nothing short of miraculous.
From the preliminary rounds onward, he had brought about a stunning upset, and against renowned masters, he had demonstrated overwhelming prowess, advancing victoriously without pause.
Just yesterday, he had beaten the Hebei Peng Family’s Mixed Origin Blade like a dog on a hot day.
‘Damn old fool. Can’t even wait before bragging again.’
‘Supreme martial arts under heaven? Just because he raised one brat well.’
‘Still, a monster is a monster. Where on earth did he pick up such a creature?’
Their thoughts were written plainly on their faces. In ordinary times, Red Sky River would have rebuked them for poor composure, but now he was the very embodiment of a compassionate Buddha.
Red Sky River’s gaze, which had been sweeping across the assembly with a pleased smile, came to rest upon one man.
“Hey there, Byuk Ryuk Do-wang.”
“….”
The elderly man with a frame as massive as Mount Tai, Byuk Ryuk Do-wang, pretended not to hear and gazed toward distant mountains. His profile was flushed crimson.
“When someone calls you, you should answer. I’m three years your senior, am I not? Wouldn’t you agree?”
“…Mind your tongue while I’m being civil.”
“My, my. Why are you so angry?”
Red Sky River countered with a sly grin, deliberately widening his eyes.
“Could it be because of that? Your eldest grandson—the one you’ve praised until your voice grew hoarse, calling him Hebei’s foremost talent and whatnot—got pummeled by my disciple for a moment?”
“…!”
“Really now. Haven’t you heard the saying that victory and defeat are the common lot of warfare? Why make such a fuss over it?”
Only then did Byuk Ryuk Do-wang’s gaze, which had been exhaling rough breaths, turn slowly toward Red Sky River.
“That’s… that’s right, isn’t it? There are times to win and times to lose.”
“Exactly. That’s how it is at that age.”
“You’re speaking sense for once. Since we’re on the subject, my grandson apparently accumulated considerable fatigue from his long journey. That’s why he couldn’t display his full strength.”
Red Sky River nodded with a benevolent smile.
“I understand. When one lacks true ability, one must have excuses to fall back on.”
“…What did you say?”
“Come to think of it, they’re not even the same age. Your eldest grandson is over twenty, isn’t he? My Tae-kyung is only just twenty-two. Well, such things happen. Such things do happen!”
“You… you damnable old bastard!”
“Hmm? What’s that? I can barely hear you over the noise from someone eliminated in the eighth round—the Hebei Peng Family’s patriarch, no less? Hehehehe!”
A hand gripping prayer beads intercepted the enraged Byuk Ryuk Do-wang.
Dharma King Hung-do exhaled deeply as he regarded the two men.
“Amitabha Buddha. Both of you, act your age. Have you forgotten what kind of gathering this is?”
The Tournament Arena of the Seonglae Tournament, where tens of thousands of spectators had gathered.
Only then did Byuk Ryuk Do-wang, sensing the curious gazes pouring toward the upper seats, lower his half-raised buttocks back down.
“Ugh.”
“What about you, Red Sky River?”
Jeok Cheon-gang, who had been staring intently at Hung-do, gave a small nod.
“…I understand.”
“Good. Let’s all get along. What would I do without the monk?”
“What indeed. I should crush that old man’s arrogance.”
Jeok Cheon-gang did not respond to Byuk Ryuk Do-wang’s provocative words.
He merely glanced sideways at Hung-do before turning his gaze toward the Tournament Arena with a heavy expression.
A single remark Hung-do had made earlier circled endlessly through his mind.
‘The monk intends to retire after this Seonglae Tournament.’
His old friend was preparing for death.
He’d said at most a year remained, hadn’t he? Though he could no longer read the heavens as clearly as before, if Dharma King Hung-do said it, then it was so.
‘That stubborn monk. He should live at least another decade.’
Even when Jin Tae-kyung’s victory had lifted his spirits, the thought of Hung-do weighed his heart down again. Just as it did now.
Sensing the somber atmosphere surrounding Jeok Cheon-gang, Hung-do suddenly spoke.
“Speaking of which, this Seonglae Tournament has seen an unusual number of upsets. Don’t you agree?”
“Your words are correct, Abbot.”
“These results were indeed unexpected.”
The sect leaders seated in the upper section nodded in agreement.
“The Shanxi Sleeping Dragon, well, that goes without saying…”
At the mention of Jin Tae-kyung, the facial muscles of Jin Wi-kyung, seated at the lower end, twitched slightly.
He remained silent only because his seniority and standing in the martial world were still insufficient; had the opportunity presented itself, he would have leaped to his feet long ago to offer congratulations.
The sect leaders, observing his envious expression, continued their discourse.
“But the most unexpected upset is Cheon Myeon Ho-ri—or rather, Rising Sword and Invincible Divine Sword.”
“Ah yes, those two surprised me most as well.”
What manner of gathering was the Seonglae Tournament?
A place where countless young and renowned martial artists from all corners of the realm participated.
Yet Rising Sword and Invincible Divine Sword were disciples of no great sect, nor had they ever earned renown in the past.
That they remained in the bracket was even more unexpected than Jin Tae-kyung, who was both a disciple of the Fire King and hailed from the prestigious Taewon Jin Family.
“Invincible Divine Sword in particular excels remarkably. He is comparable even to the elders of the Main Sect.”
At the words cast by one of the mid-tier sect leaders, Jeok Cheon-gang, who had been quietly listening, suddenly opened his mouth.
“Hold your tongue. Then at least you’ll make sense.”
“…Pardon?”
“I don’t know which sect you belong to or who you are, but that boy has long surpassed the late stage. Are you truly unable to perceive it, or are you feigning ignorance?”
Hung-do and Byuk Ryuk Do-wang also let out soft chuckles of agreement.
“Red Sky River’s words are crude, but they speak the truth.”
“I hate to agree with that old man, but he’s right. It’s only natural, really. After all, a sword… ahem. Well, in any case, he’s quite remarkable.”
Byuk Ryuk Do-wang’s words trailed off momentarily as he cast a sidelong glance at someone nearby.
It was a middle-aged man with a gentle smile—Cheon Geom Jin-in, the sect leader of the Hua Mountain Sect.
“Haha, I see the keen eyes of our esteemed seniors cannot be fooled.”
At Cheon Geom Jin-in’s bright laughter, people asked with suspicion in their voices.
“Is it…?”
“Indeed. The Invincible Divine Sword is a disciple of the Main Sect.”
“Ah, as expected!”
“What an excellent disciple you have raised, Jin-in!”
Several of those with high martial prowess nodded silently as if they had already guessed, while others let out exclamations of admiration.
Yet an even more astonishing revelation flowed from Cheon Geom Jin-in’s lips.
“Not merely a disciple, but rather a fellow disciple.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
“Through karmic connection, we share the same master. The last time I saw him was over a decade ago… and I must say, it brings me joy to see how splendidly he has grown.”
The same master.
The words that followed barely registered. No one among them was ignorant of the fact that Cheon Geom Jin-in’s master was the Sword Saint Mae Jong-hak.
‘So the Invincible Divine Sword is truly a disciple of that Sword Saint!’
At the shocked reactions of the crowd, Cheon Geom Jin-in smiled silently.
His expression resembled that of an enlightened sage, yet his true thoughts were quite different.
‘Finally, I’ve caught you. You rascal!’
Following the master Sword Saint, even the youngest disciple had fled.
A year ago, he thought he’d finally grasped the tail, only for that one to beat down his disciples and escape.
Every time the Invincible Divine Sword—or rather, Chung Poong—stepped onto the Tournament Arena, Cheon Geom Jin-in had to suppress the urge to seize him by the collar and drag him back to the Hua Mountain Sect.
“Hehehehe. A treasure of our Hua Mountain Sect, indeed.”
Congratulations poured down upon Cheon Geom Jin-in as he concealed his true feelings and smiled like an immortal sage.
“What wonderful fortune. The name of the Sword Saint shall surely remain within the Hua Mountain Sect for generations to come.”
“My congratulations, Jin-in.”
“Our felicitations!”
“A clash between the Shanxi Sleeping Dragon and the Invincible Divine Sword! This makes the finals all the more eagerly anticipated. Haha!”
Amidst the warm atmosphere, a furrow appeared between Jeok Cheon-gang’s brows.
Simultaneously, a whispered transmission reached Hongdao’s ear.
– Everyone seems to have forgotten about one person.
Hongdao quietly rolled his prayer beads.
– Are you referring to Jong Ri-chu, the Rising Sword?
– Precisely. That very one.
The Seonglae Tournament was a gathering of the martial world that accepted participants regardless of origin or background. Thus, those who wished to compete could register without undergoing overly rigorous verification.
Yet that was merely the surface. The reality was quite different.
– By mobilizing the Shadow Pavilion, we have confirmed the identities of all participants who advanced to the main rounds.
A year ago, when Hongdao first became aware of Dark Heaven’s existence, the first person he sought out was none other than Cheon Myeon Ho-ri, Song Ho.
Upon hearing the circumstances, he unhesitatingly summoned his former subordinates. The Shadow Pavilion, which existed in name only, was thus reborn.
– What are the results?
– I’ve verified twice, three times over. The results remain the same. Everyone’s identities checked out, except for one person—Chung Poong Jong Ri-chu—who couldn’t be found anywhere.
– Are you certain? If he deliberately concealed himself for some reason….
– It was merely speculation. Until four days ago, when contact with the Dark Assassin was cut off.
– The Dark Assassin? You mean he was taken down?
The Dark Assassin was a formidable figure—someone even Jeok Cheon-gang acknowledged.
As the Shadow Pavilion’s finest intelligence operative and an assassin who had reached the pinnacle of his craft, his sudden silence was deeply troubling.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine the Dark Assassin already lying cold as a corpse.
– In your assessment, what do you make of it? Could you discern his martial techniques?
At Hongdao’s whispered transmission, Jeok Cheon-gang’s gaze deepened.
– Even I cannot say with certainty. That’s precisely what troubles me most.
I’ve witnessed countless martial arts throughout my life.
I’ve seen them with my own eyes and defeated them in direct confrontation.
Yet the martial techniques I witnessed from Jong Ri-chu were utterly unfamiliar.
– His power doesn’t seem particularly overwhelming… yet somehow he manages to win every time and ascend to this level. It’s a martial art I’ve never encountered before.
– Are you suggesting his techniques transcend the natural order?
– Transcend the natural order?
In that instant, Jeok Cheon-gang’s expression hardened. Decades ago, transcending the natural order meant one thing—a single word.
‘Demonic Path!’
A single word that flashed through both their minds simultaneously.
Hongdao and Jeok Cheon-gang were survivors of an age of chaos. Thus, they understood its meaning better than anyone.
– Then you’re saying he’s a descendant of the Demon Cult?
– I cannot say. Whether it’s Dark Heaven or the Demon Cult. Or perhaps something else entirely.
Just as the two finished their grave whispered exchange, a shout infused with martial power shook the Tournament Arena.
* * *
“Ladies and gentlemen of the martial world, I present to you the rising prodigy—the Invincible Divine Sword! And Yu Yun Shin-ryong of the Wudang School!”
Chung Poong, the Invincible Divine Sword, bounded onto the Tournament Arena with unusual enthusiasm.
He leaped in place, waving his hands at the thunderous cheers pouring down upon him.
“Wow! Wow! Hello everyone! This is my first time at the Seonglae Tournament’s eighth round!”
In contrast, his opponent Yu Yun Shin-ryong warmed up with a stern expression.
He too was one of the Ten Dragons and Phoenixes, the Orthodox Martial Arts World’s most promising young talents, and was said to rank alongside Jin Moo-kyung in strength.
‘He’s certainly formidable.’
Beyond twenty years of age, and a direct disciple of the Wudang School’s sect master.
According to what Jegal Gyun told me, he had extensive real combat experience from his tournament circuit.
But then again.
‘Well, victory and defeat are unpredictable anyway.’
I settled comfortably into my seat in the spectator stands.
Just yesterday, I’d crushed the young master of the Hebei Peng Family as Jeok Cheon-gang wished, advancing to the semifinals.
Unless something unexpected occurred, I’d advance smoothly to the finals, and my opponent would likely be Chung Poong.
‘Let’s see what he’s really made of.’
As my eyes blazed with intensity, the flag signaling the start of the tournament rose into the air.

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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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