Murim Login - Chapter 320

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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 320
The Old Master possessed the bearing of an immortal sage. Though I’d heard he was nearly eighty years old, his face bore not a single age spot—the visage of a supreme master brimming with profound inner strength—and his posture remained impeccably erect.
And there was presence in his gaze. That murky, penetrating stare that unsettled anyone who met it. The Old Master, Tae-eul Mujeong Sword Hwang Bo-eom, finally spoke.
“An amusing fellow has appeared.”
I met his gaze without flinching and replied.
“I hear that rather often, actually.”
“Bold as well.”
“That’s true too.”
The corners of Hwang Bo-eom’s mouth lifted slightly.
“You must know who I am. Spare me the clever wordplay.”
“Who are you?”
“What?”
“We’ve never met before. How could I possibly know who you are or where you’re from? You have to tell me. That’s basic courtesy.”
Gasps erupted from various corners at my composed response.
“H-he’s lost his mind.”
The members of the Yongbong Escort Agency, including Ju Hwa-ran, gaped in shock, while the disciples of the Zhongnan Sect, understanding the gravity of the situation, instinctively moved their hands toward their sword hilts.
“Such insolent arrogance!”
“Show proper respect at once!”
Hwang Bo-eom raised his hand, calming the situation.
Normally at this point, someone would be foaming at the mouth with rage, but he was clearly different.
“I see.”
Hwang Bo-eom, who had been regarding me with a faint smile, slowly turned his head.
His gaze passed over me, Chung Poong, and Hyuk Moo-jin, settling instead on two others.
“Not know who I am? The rising talents of Huashan and the successor of the Beggar Clan should have informed you long ago. Too much jest becomes tiresome.”
Baek Moo-sung and Gung Ki-bang, startled by his words, stepped forward and clasped their fists in salute.
“Baek Moo-sung of Huashan greets the great hero Hwang Bo.”
“The B-Beggar Clan’s Gung Ki-bang….”
“Enough.”
Hwang Bo-eom flicked his sleeve and waved his hand dismissively, his gaze returning to me.
“I thought I’d indulged this child’s tantrum sufficiently. Is it still not enough?”
Indeed, this was no ordinary old man.
He was an entirely different breed from my senior, the Angry Sword Immortal.
His martial prowess and temperament were both on another level.
‘Troublesome fellow.’
But this much was within my expectations.
I kept my true thoughts hidden and casually shrugged my shoulders.
“No, that’s sufficient now. Great hero Tae-eul Mujeong Sword Hwang Bo-eom.”
“Audacious. Why not just admit you didn’t recognize me?”
“Clean acknowledgment looks better, don’t you think?”
“Heh. I’ve never seen such an impudent young rascal.”
Hwang Bo-eom burst into hearty laughter—a sound that mingled both fascination and exasperation at my very existence.
Yet the Zhongnan Sect disciples under his command seemed to find the situation not merely absurd, but insulting.
Had they known nothing from the start, it would have been one thing, but to pretend ignorance while knowing the truth was another matter entirely.
Hwang Bo-eom’s position within the Zhongnan Sect appeared far too significant to simply laugh this off.
“You insolent fool!”
The Taeul Sword Squad, was it?
It began when the middle-aged man among the Zhongnan Sect disciples who appeared to have the highest seniority drew his blade with a shout.
Clang, clang, clang!
Thirty well-maintained swords pointed toward me. True to their status as disciples of the Zhongnan Sect, one of the Nine Major Sects and One Alliance, each of them had reached at least the first-rate realm of mastery.
Of course….
‘Pathetically weak.’
At this level, they posed no threat to me whatsoever.
First-rate? Peak realm? Meaningless.
In my eyes, they were merely thirty sword-wielders.
‘I am strong.’
The supremacy of the strong.
One of the absolute laws that governed the Martial World.
Somewhere along the way, I had become strong enough to move with ease within that law, and that was precisely why I could now walk forward with such confidence.
“Since this is fate, would it be acceptable if I joined your table?”
I asked Hwang Bo-eom while ignoring the thirty sword blades surrounding me, and the face of the middle-aged swordmaster who led them flushed crimson.
“You, you audacious bastard!”
“Audacious? That’s hilarious.”
“Taeul Sword Squad, listen! Seize this man at once!”
It was then that Hwang Bo-eom, who had been silently observing me, finally opened his lips.
“To join the table… I permit it.”
“…!”
Everyone turned to stare at Hwang Bo-eom in shock.
“S-sir?”
“Sheathe your blades.”
“B-but that man…!”
“Do you dare defy this old one’s command?”
At his chilling voice, the middle-aged swordmaster bit his lip and lowered his blade. As the weapons that had illuminated the interior of the tea house vanished, nothing remained to obstruct my path.
“Thank you. The glare was getting rather bothersome, I must admit.”
With a soft rustle and a thud, I settled myself beside Ju Hwa-ran, stepping past the rigid figures. Seeing her pale complexion devoid of all color, I offered her a slight smile.
“It hasn’t been long… well, two days, actually. Have you been well?”
“So-hyup….”
“You needn’t answer. It was merely a courtesy. Besides, judging from your expression alone, you hardly seem to have been faring well.”
“That’s not it—how did you even….”
“I simply happened to pass by and stopped in by chance. This Chung Poong here was so insistent about having tea. Coincidence, naturally.”
I just happened to pass by and stopped in by chance. So-hyup, who’s here, really wanted to have a cup of tea. Of course, that was a coincidence too.
Baek Moo-sung, Gung Ki-bang, and Hyuk Moo-jin.
Unlike these three, Chung Poong—whose twelve meridians were composed entirely of courage—sat beside me without hesitation, pouting his lips.
“Benefactor, when will the candied fruit come out?”
“Just wait a bit longer. I’ll pile it up high for you.”
“Wow! Candied fruit mountains!”
In contrast to Chung Poong, who gazed in rapture as if he could already see the mountain of candied fruit before his eyes, Ju Hwa-ran’s expression looked like a collapsed mountain.
Of course, most of that was likely due to Hwang Bo-eom across from us.
He, who had been observing me and Chung Poong alternately with an enigmatic gaze, suddenly opened his mouth.
“You’ve got nerve. Recklessly so.”
“It was small originally. But after experiencing one thing and another, it suddenly grew.”
“One thing and another, I see. Well, having survived the Shaolin Blood History, that would make sense.”
“…!”
“Why so startled?”
Hwang Bo-eom continued, curling the corners of his mouth upward.
“I’ve long heard the rumors that the Fire King harbors a sleeping dragon. And that he left the Martial Alliance seven days ago.”
A cunning old fox. He’d known from the start.
Unlike Ju Hwa-ran, who had deduced our identities two days prior, he already knew everything.
‘How?’
This matter had been conducted swiftly and in secret, yet he saw through it as clearly as looking at his own palm.
Could the Zhongnan Sect’s sect leader, currently staying at the Martial Alliance, have sent a carrier pigeon?
‘Then could it be that he also knows about Old Master’s condition…?’
Just as I harbored that suspicion, Hwang Bo-eom’s gaze briefly swept past the A-frame carrier that I had entrusted to Baek Moo-sung before taking my seat.
And then came a casual remark, tossed out carelessly.
“I never expected the so-called successor of the Fire King to be dressed as a leather merchant right now.”
Whether he was feigning ignorance or truly unaware, I could not tell from his expression alone.
His face revealed nothing.
Currently, Red Sky River existed in a state of suspended animation—his heartbeat and breathing reduced to the absolute minimum, making his presence nearly impossible to detect.
It was similar to the Turtle Breathing Technique that Chung Poong had mentioned before.
‘And with all that leather piled on top, even a supreme master would struggle to notice.’
The reason I had covered him with so much leather was not merely for maintaining body heat. It was to conceal his appearance, to mask all sound and presence, ensuring that Red Sky River’s existence remained hidden.
“….”
“What troubles you?”
“Nothing much. My throat is parched, though.”
I hastily redirected Hwang Bo-eom’s attention. Without further comment, he picked up the teapot and offered me a cup.
“Take it.”
“Then I won’t refuse.”
Splash.
Hwang Bo-eom was indeed not an easy man. I felt the profound inner strength infused in the tea water and inwardly clicked my tongue in admiration.
‘As expected of the foremost master of Zhongnan.’
The tea water fell in slow, graceful arcs, yet the power it carried was heavy and formidable enough to shatter stone.
‘Still, he’s not quite on Old Master’s level.’
Jeok Cheon-gang, possessed of a mischievous nature, had played countless pranks on me over the years, and what Hwang Bo-eom was doing now was no different.
I’d lost count of how many cups I’d drained this way.
Moreover, Jeok Cheon-gang stood foremost among the Ten Kings and was often compared to the Three Stars—an absolute powerhouse.
‘This much is nothing.’
When I didn’t so much as blink, Hwang Bo-eom’s eyebrows twitched. Simultaneously, the inner force woven through the tea water swelled even greater.
“Excuse me, Hwang Bo-eom.”
“Hmm?”
“The tea is about to overflow.”
“….”
“Perhaps you could stop pouring now.”
As I spoke, the cup was already brimming. I lifted the flawless porcelain cup and drained it in one gulp.
“Ahh. That was refreshing.”
“…You seem fond of tea.”
“Not really. Anyway, allow me to pour you a cup this time.”
As I reached out, the teapot glided smoothly through the air and into my grasp.
This was what martial artists called Void Grasping—a technique of the Murim.
With power approaching the first rank and enlightenment at the very pinnacle, I had long since mastered it. I simply refrained from using it due to the drain on my reserves, but I could employ it whenever I wished.
‘I should display at least this much showmanship.’
Jeok Cheon-gang had once mentioned it in passing.
‘The Murim swarms with incompetent fools. Such creatures only listen when shown something flashy. Look at me—I merely grew irritated and beat down the Demon Cult bastards, yet they call me King to this day.’
Truly, Jeok Cheon-gang. A man who had overturned the entire Murim by acting alone.
‘Void Grasping isn’t quite at that level, but it’s certainly a remarkable technique.’
As expected, those watching widened their eyes in astonishment.
“Void Grasping, performed so effortlessly….”
“Huh.”
Few could employ Void Grasping so casually. Especially not among those of my age.
I didn’t stop there. I drew upon my inner force, letting the extreme yang qi—rooted in the Sevenfold Flame Divine Art—seep into my palms.
Whoooosh!
With a sudden surge of heat, the tea within the pot began to boil vigorously. I calmly filled Hwang Bo-eom’s cup and spoke.
“The tea had grown rather cold. Since you’re drinking it anyway, wouldn’t warm be better? The weather’s been chilly lately, and at your age, one must take care of such things.”
“…!”
Hwang Bo-eom’s face went rigid.
Heating tea with inner force was hardly difficult for him. There existed a technique called Samadhi True Fire, after all.
Yet the Flame Divine Art was called supreme under heaven in the mastery of extreme heat.
No matter how transcendent a master Hwang Bo-eom was, he could not match the Flame Divine Art.
And…. No. That’s something I cannot yet conclude.
I set aside the emerging thought and offered him the cup.
“Please, drink.”
“Ahem.”
“The tea goes down! Smooth, smooth, smoothly!”
“…Drink it well then.”
“Look at my internal organs! I’ve suffered internal injuries!”
“….”
Hwang Bo-eom, who had glared at me once, drained his teacup completely.
As he set the cup down, his gaze had transformed considerably from how it had been when he first regarded the young man.
“Your martial prowess is quite remarkable.”
I smiled and waved my hand dismissively.
“Ah, that’s not it.”
“Do you think you can deceive these old eyes?”
“No, I meant to say my martial prowess isn’t merely remarkable—it’s at an exceptionally superior level.”
“Your arrogance is excessive….”
“Ah, by the way, my master told me this. Fire King Red Sky River. You know him, right?”
Now only I was smiling.
Not a trace of laughter remained on Hwang Bo-eom’s face.
After a brief silence, he suddenly spoke.
“What is your true intention?”
“Pardon?”
“Your impudence reaches the heavens. I’ve heard enough nonsense about coincidence—speak the truth.”
“You’re quite straightforward. Well then.”
I continued with a faint smile.
“I simply happened to pass by and wondered what scheme the Zhongnan Sect was plotting, so I came to see.”
At those words, the eyes of Tae-eul Mujeong Sword Hwang Bo-eom turned cold and sharp.

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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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