Murim Login - Chapter 324

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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 324
Boom!
The tribulation fire that erupted consumed the lingering chill of early spring and surged forward.
It erased the afterimages created by the Tae-eul Mujeong Sword, which had split into dozens of fragments and wavered, finally reaching the unified sword spirit.
The unique essence and concentrated force—sword energy and tribulation fire collided.
Crash!
With a deafening roar that numbed the ears, a massive wave of qi spiraled around the Old Master and the Young Man at its center.
Blue flames wrapped in wind tore through the ceiling of the tea house and erupted upward like a fire dragon.
At that sight, Hwang Bo-eom’s eyelids trembled.
‘A fire dragon…!’
Hwang Bo-eom didn’t even notice that his snow-white beard, once his pride, had been singed black.
He could only gasp for breath and feel his chest tighten as he met the burning gaze of the Young Man across the crossed weapons.
‘How intense.’
This supreme master’s martial prowess and cultivation at the pinnacle realm.
His body, forged by formidable techniques, had long since transcended the state where neither cold nor heat could touch him.
Yet the Young Man’s eyes, the momentum emanating from him—it was not something that could be called mere heat.
Rage and fighting spirit. And within it, a trace of cold calculation.
How could this be? A mere child, barely old enough to be called young…?
“Cough.”
Blood trickled down.
Hwang Bo-eom coughed dryly and spat out a mouthful of blood. With trembling eyes, he gazed at the spear in the Young Man’s hand.
A pale blue flame wrapped around the transparent silver spearhead.
Though not yet complete, it was unmistakably a Heavenly Qi technique.
‘No, that’s not it. He hasn’t crossed the threshold yet. So how could I…?’
Hwang Bo-eom had already crossed the barrier ten years ago, entering the pinnacle realm.
Yet here he was, pushed back by a mere boy still lingering at the peak, despite all the cultivation and meditation through which he had gained enlightenment in those distant years.
“…How is this possible?”
The Young Man’s answer was brief.
“Because I’m stronger.”
“…!”
With those quiet words, the crossed spearhead pressed down upon Hwang Bo-eom with tremendous force.
Crack, crack, crack!
“Gasp!”
The sword energy poured from a supreme master’s cultivation? The martial techniques of the pinnacle realm?
All were useless. The force transmitted through the spearhead was divine power that no human could wield, evoking the ancient myths he had heard in childhood.
‘Pangu.’
The primordial giant who wielded an axe to create the world.
The Young Man before him contained divine power within a human body. And what he possessed was not limited to divine strength alone.
Scrape!
The senses of a supreme master far transcended those of ordinary Murim practitioners.
Yet even Hwang Bo-eom could not evade the silver line that had materialized from nowhere.
A pain that had not visited him in decades surged through him, and as blood erupted from his shoulder blade, his eyes widened in shock.
‘When did he—’
He had not even seen the strike being launched. Even the Tae-eul Fen-guang Sword, the Zhongnan Sect’s pride and the pinnacle of speed, could not match this.
Hwang Bo-eom, who had spent eighty years perfecting the martial arts of the Zhongnan Sect, cried out.
“This cannot be! This cannot be!”
Crash!
Drawing upon every last ounce of strength, the blade’s qi erupted like wildfire.
Hwang Bo-eom, barely escaping the pressure, pointed at the young man with trembling fingers.
“Who… who are you?”
“You already know.”
The young man, Jin Tae-kyung, spat like a street ruffian and continued.
“The nineteenth successor of the Yeolhwa Sect.”
Whoosh!
The tribulation flame coalesced upon the transparent spear blade, burning fiercely.
* * *
Screech! Boom!
Spear blade and sword edge collide.
A succession of moments so brief they barely deserve the name. The tribulation flame and sword force erase everything in their path as dozens of exchanges clash and separate.
Hiss, hiss, hiss! Bang!
I twisted my head slightly. From the tip of the sword piercing empty air, a tremendous wave of force erupted. A pillar three lengths away split like tofu and collapsed with a rumble.
I propelled myself forward, treading upon the wooden fragments cascading from the ceiling. Light yet heavy. Soft yet fierce.
It was like the spread of flame.
‘This is the subtlety of the Flame Fire Path.’
In that instant, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped my entire being. In the slowed world, I alone rushed forward as if being pulled. My body, light as air, shot forth like a bullet.
Ding.
– Enlightenment finds you in many forms. Through endless training and meditation, and through battles where life hangs in the balance.
–
[Flame Fire Path]
has risen to the seventh tier!
– You have acquired a substantial amount of experience!
Boom!
Air exploded from my feet. As the system notification rang out, my body was already before Hwang Bo-eom’s face.
Perhaps due to the unexpected enlightenment and increased speed, I had drawn too close to extend the spear.
Instead of retreating, I thrust out a palm strike.
Whoosh!
My hand advanced, burning the air. Hwang Bo-eom unleashed a thunderous shout and extended his palm to meet mine.
A brilliant azure light shimmered upon his wrinkled palm. The Jade Cloud Heavenly Rigid Hand, the pride of the Zhongnan Sect.
Yet he had been given too little time to complete his hand force.
No.
I was faster.
Whoooosh, crash!
Two palms collided. Behind the thunderous roar came gasps of pain, one after another.
Hwang Bo-eom’s face had turned ashen from the internal injury, and he gritted his teeth as he raised his other hand to point at me.
Pap pap pat!
Five streaks of finger wind sliced uselessly through the empty air.
In that fleeting instant, had I not seized his wrist with the Flame Dragon Claw, blood would have been spilled.
How dare you.
Crack.
I twisted his wrist, which I had locked with my thumb, index, and middle fingers. A stifled scream escaped through his split lips.
Tae-eul Mujeong Sword Hwang Bo-eom. When was the last time he had experienced such agony?
When the curtain falls on a stage, the actors must exit.
The stage called the Great Hall had closed its curtain half a century ago, and the heroes had scattered to the winds.
The Hwang Bo-eom reflected in my eyes now was not a hero, but a petty old man.
This is going to hurt quite a bit.
I released his limp wrist. At the same moment, I clenched the fingers that had been curled like a dragon’s talons into a fist.
Crack.
Hundreds of pounds of iron weights fastened to my body, repeating the same posture countless times a day.
Lower body rooted like a tree, waist rigid like a pillar, fists precise and unobstructed. Not a single deviation from Jeok Cheon-gang’s teachings.
At first, I shattered boulders.
I split waterfalls cascading from hundreds of feet above.
I toppled cliffs.
Like a tortoise’s shell, cyan-white flames overlay my hands, which were cracked and torn countless times over.
The time from taking my stance to driving my fist forward was nothing short of an instant.
Extinguishing Flame Divine Fist.
Roooar.
The extreme yang qi evaporated all moisture within a radius of several meters. Hwang Bo-eom’s lips, cracked like a drought-stricken rice field, parted open.
“No—!”
“Stop.”
With that answer, I unleashed the Extinguishing Flame Divine Fist.
The supreme master’s protective qi barrier held for a moment, but that was all. A single strike shattered the aura surrounding his entire body and lashed against his withered flesh and bone.
Crack crack crack!
“Gaaaaaahhhhh!”
With a tearing scream, Hwang Bo-eom’s body was hurled backward. Three pillars and a wall collapsed, and the remaining ceiling came crashing down.
Just as I was contemplating the word “end,” I saw bloodshot eyes glaring at me from beyond the dust cloud.
“Cough, cough!”
“Just stay down. If you want to preserve what little life you have left.”
“You… how could you…”
Shock and confusion, rage and humiliation…
Countless emotions swirled within Hwang Bo-eom’s eyes. And finally, all those emotions converged into a single destination.
‘Hatred.’
Blood-soaked lips parted slowly. Fragments of viscera mixed with crimson fluid spilled forth, yet Hwang Bo-eom’s eyes blazed with an infernal fire.
It was the gaze of one who no longer contemplated the future.
“I am… the First Sword of Zhongnan Sect.”
In that instant, the scorching winds that had swirled about us dissipated. A glacial breeze took their place—emanating from a single figure, born from a single blade.
I felt my overheated blood cooling as I murmured beneath my breath.
“This is….”
“The Tae-eul Mujeong Sword. Witness it well. This is the sword technique that shall sever your lifeline.”
Whoosh—
The blade moved, and wind erupted. The sword became wind; the wind became sword. Invisible sword strikes wove themselves into the gale.
In the moment I sensed a thick metallic scent coiling about my nostrils.
Screech!
A half-step to the side. That half-step saved my life.
I had no time to feel the blood trickling from my neck. Each time Hwang Bo-eom’s blade vibrated from a dozen paces away, invisible sword strikes cascaded like waves, drowning me beneath their assault.
Slash, screech!
My ribs flared with pain. The force embedded in the sword strike ravaged my insides.
Even as I staggered, I raised my arm. An attack that grazed past by the narrowest margin cleaved through a beam like tofu.
‘What is this?’
Screech!
There was no time for bewilderment. This time, a long gash opened across my chest. Blood sprayed forth, drenching the floor.
‘I cannot see it.’
As though enveloped in thick fog.
This was no matter of strength or speed. It was a transcendent sword technique—unfolded by a martial master of higher enlightenment than myself, their power unleashed to its absolute limit.
And yet….
‘How have I evaded it until now?’
A single question suddenly seized my mind.
My entire body froze rigid as dozens of sword strikes rained down upon me. I gazed upon the spectacle with vacant eyes.
And I closed my eyes. Within the darkness that followed, a face surfaced in my memory.
His resonant voice echoed faintly.
‘In the Martial World, keep your eyes wide open. Then you shall not fall to the blade.’
‘But what if death still approaches?’
‘Then discard those useless eyes and perceive with your heart instead.’
‘With my heart? How could that possibly work?’
‘Have you ever tried?’
Yes. I have.
No—I am doing so now.
‘So this was what you meant back then.’
A smile bloomed unbidden upon my face.
I cannot see. Yet I feel it. In the darkness where not even an inch ahead is visible, the approaching sword strike. The final throes of Hwang Bo-eom’s Tae-eul Mujeong Sword.
‘Thank you for your guidance. Old Master Noya.’
I kept my eyes closed as I twisted my body, tuning each limb and the finest muscle fiber with the precision of piano strings.
The blade strike that failed to touch flesh tore through my garments and gouged the ground.
Crash!
With the thunderous impact, I opened my eyes slightly. I could see Hwang Bo-eom’s face, filled with shock.
An emotion I had never witnessed before crystallized in his pupils.
‘Fear.’
He understood it well—the fear coursing through him.
The terror emanating from me.
“No, stay back!”
Whoosh!
I took a step forward and swept my spear. The blade strike aimed at my neck collided with the spear’s edge and dissipated.
And then another step.
Swish, swish, swish!
I unfurled my spear as naturally as breathing. Deflecting, blocking, piercing as though dispatching a living opponent. Yet my advance never ceased.
I was unhurried; Hwang Bo-eom was desperate. Ignoring his body’s limits, he unleashed his final strike.
Boom!
A blade force infused with power enough to reduce the entire tea house to dust.
I watched it close in before my eyes, then swept my spear like a thunderbolt.
Heavenly Strike.
The fire dragon’s claw seized the blade force.
And in the next instant.
Crack!
The shattered blade scattered across the ground. Hwang Bo-eom, his vacant gaze fixed upon his ruined sword, slowly lifted his head.
“Who… who exactly are you?”
“That’s why I’m saying…”
I spoke slowly to Hwang Bo-eom, the Zhongnan Sect’s finest warrior and the Tae-eul Mujeong Sword.
“Don’t you dare insult my master, you senile fool. You’re begging for death. Go to hell.”

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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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