Murim Login - Chapter 348

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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 348
The Black Robed Organization members stood in perfect formation, rows and columns aligned with military precision. The vast underground cavern was filled not merely with hundreds of them, but with something far more oppressive.
Presence.
From those figures with sunken eyes and postures rigid as iron towers flowed an overwhelming aura that permeated the entire cavern.
And presiding over them all stood a single towering giant.
“The Qilian Three Demons.”
A deep, resonant hum.
When the voice, laden with profound martial power, pierced their ears, the Black Robed Organization members trembled. The three elderly figures at the front were no exception.
The three who stepped forward simultaneously prostrated themselves at the feet of the Middle-aged Guard, the Western Heavenly Demon Lord, and cried out.
“The junior disciples of Qilian Mountains offer their respects to the Western Heavenly Demon Lord.”
Their faces, physiques, and voices.
The three elderly men, remarkably alike in every aspect, were brothers born from the same womb.
Their mother had died giving birth to them, their father had abandoned his young children and departed, and the three brothers, left in the barren lands of Qinghai, had hidden themselves in the vast mountain ranges to escape the contempt of others.
Then one day, when all had forgotten them, the three brothers returned. Under the name of the Qilian Three Demons.
“You’ve aged considerably in the time we haven’t met. It would be fitting to call you the Three Elders now.”
“Ah, no, my lord. How could we presume when you grace us with your presence?”
The Qilian Three Demons were once evil demons who had drenched Qinghai in blood. Yet before the Western Heavenly Demon Lord, they were nothing more than lambs.
The Qilian Three Demons swallowed hard and opened their mouths simultaneously, as if they were a single being.
“But, my lord. Forgive us, but one of your arms….”
“This, you mean?”
The Western Heavenly Demon Lord, gazing at his own empty sleeve, answered in a dry voice.
“I paid the price with two lives.”
“You mean to say….”
“The two old men of the Tang Sect and Emei Sect are no longer of this world.”
“…!”
The air within the cavern trembled with violent shock.
Who were Dok Wang and Gyeong Cheon Shin-ni? They were giants who had carved their legacies into the history of the Martial World, supreme masters who had dominated an entire era.
Yet… they had all met their end at the hands of one man.
The Qilian Three Demons and the Black Robed Organization members gazed upon their leader with awestruck eyes.
“Then, does this mean….”
“Yes.”
A brilliant gleam flashed across the Western Heavenly Demon Lord’s eyes.
“The time has finally come.”
* * *
I close my eyes now.
In the quiet darkness, I concentrate my mind. A voice pierces my ears, and from within the darkness emerges the figure of someone.
A height neither tall nor short. Behind a bright smile that conceals claws—a young man named Chung Poong.
“First, I’ll use the Subduing Tiger Fist to target my benefactor’s shoulder, chest, and abdomen in succession.”
In the darkness, the imagined form of Chung Poong moves. Fast. With a single step, he closes the distance, his fist blurring as he rushes forward. A sharp, piercing sound of tearing air seems to echo from somewhere.
Swift. Formidable. Lethal.
“That’s easy enough to dodge. I’ll step back half a pace diagonally and strike toward your ribs.”
“I’ll dissipate the force with Chaotic Flower Hand, retreat, and counter with the Plum Blossom Thirty-Six Sword.”
“Which technique?”
“Heaven’s Severance.”
Heaven’s Severance was among the most formidable of all techniques within the Plum Blossom Thirty-Six Sword.
Even during my sparring with Chung Poong in the past, I had chosen to evade rather than block that particular move.
“Isn’t that coming in a bit too strong?”
“Given who my opponent is, I must give my all.”
“But didn’t you say I was your benefactor?”
“That’s one thing, this is another. Hehe. In any case, Heaven’s Severance.”
Heaven’s Severance. It wasn’t difficult to imagine how the attack would unfold.
In the darkness, as Chung Poong withdrew without striking, his force dissipated through Chaotic Flower Hand, his hand moved to his waist—and in that instant, a brilliant flash erupted.
A chilling sound cut through the air as a horizontal sword qi surged before my eyes.
How should I respond? The deliberation was brief.
“I’ll deflect it. Fire Dragon Divine Spear, first technique. Fire Dragon’s Tail.”
“You won’t be able to block it.”
“When was the last time we crossed blades?”
“Hmm. About a year ago.”
“Short or long—it’s been an eternity for me. A single day felt like ten years.”
“…!”
“Think again. Whether I can block it.”
Chung Poong, who had fallen silent, finally answered. His voice had grown deep and resonant.
“I was mistaken. If you are my benefactor… I believe you can.”
“Then let’s continue.”
Chung Poong and I devoted ourselves to discussing martial arts for quite some time.
Though we hadn’t directly sparred in over a year, we understood each other’s techniques and prowess well enough from the Seongnae Tournament onward, making this possible.
“Three paces to the left. Plum Blossom Five Patterns.”
“Plum Blossom Five Patterns is excellent martial art, but as long as you guard the vital points, it’s manageable. I’ll close in and strike your chest with Extinguishing Flame Divine Fist.”
Within the forms each of us envisioned, an exchange of advance and retreat continued.
One hundred, two hundred—before long, when our exchanges exceeded five hundred moves, Chung Poong suddenly spoke.
“Dark Fragrance Step to close within two paces, then Plum Blossom Three Ascending Sword.”
Suddenly?
Chung Poong was vulnerable in close combat. Though he had mastered the Huashan Sect’s excellent movement techniques and sword arts, since the sect’s foundation lay in sword techniques, the Yeolhwa Sect held a slight edge in spear arts.
Yet he was attacking this way regardless….
‘Ah, so that’s it.’
I had suspected as much, but Chung Poong never ceased to impress.
I opened my eyes with a hollow laugh. When I didn’t respond for a long while, Chung Poong cautiously opened his eyes and asked.
“Benefactor, why?”
“That’s enough for today.”
“Ah, but why!”
“It’s a shame.”
“Pardon?”
“Let’s have a proper match later. Not with wooden swords like this, but with real weapons.”
Deciding the outcome with mere wooden swords felt too unsatisfying. I was suggesting we settle things properly later, both of us fighting at full strength.
Chung Poong was innocent as a child, but far from foolish—surely he would understand this much.
“Why would we match weapons? Wouldn’t they just crash together?”
“….”
No. Perhaps he really was just an idiot.
Regretting my hasty judgment, Chung Poong pestered me further.
“I’m bored, benefactor. Can’t we just keep going?”
“Ah, Chung So-hyup. Have you heard about that?”
“Heard about what?”
I gazed at Chung Poong steadily before speaking.
“They say there’s a former imperial chef at the Sichuan Tang Sect.”
“A former imperial chef?”
“They say he cooks magnificently. Especially pastries and delicacies.”
“Huh.”
For a moment, Chung Poong’s eyes grew distant, but then he shook his head vigorously.
“No, I can’t. I have to stay here with you to protect Grandfather Jeok.”
“It’s fine. I’m staying here anyway—”
“Then I’ll be back soon!”
“…Yes, go ahead.”
Whoooosh!
What was that, some kind of lightning movement technique?
As Chung Poong vanished at the speed of light, I looked around.
A desolate space where bone-chilling cold and foul stench coexisted—the Underground Prison, where I hadn’t taken a single step away from since treatment began.
“It’s only been four days.”
The murmur escaped like a sigh.
Time in the Underground Prison crawled by far slower than imagination could conceive. Not merely because sunlight never reached this place, but because of the anxiety and tension that only those who wait can truly feel.
Perhaps that’s why each day felt like my lifeblood was draining away.
“I should have just stayed outside the treatment chamber.”
Even as I said it, I shook my head. Pacing before that door wouldn’t accomplish anything.
My five senses, already heightened to their limit, would strain to catch every sound from within, and inevitably, I’d retreat to wander the Underground Prison at a distance, unable to bear it.
Exactly as I was doing now.
‘Now that I’m alone, it’s far too quiet.’
With Chung Poong, who had clung to me like gum for the past four days, now gone, I felt an inexplicable emptiness.
With Dang Sa-dok’s orders, even Gung Elder could no longer enter the Underground Prison, leaving me in complete solitude.
‘Actually, thinking about it, I’m not entirely alone.’
I wasn’t referring to Divine Physician and Moon-kyung, who were absorbed in treating Jeok Cheon-gang.
The dozen or so prisoners confined in the Underground Prison, awaiting only the day of their death—they were my cellmates.
‘Not exactly the best of cellmates.’
These weren’t the type who left the bathroom unflushed or constantly brought lovers around—they were martial masters who had earned notorious reputations throughout the Murim.
No matter how confined they were, there was no pleasure in sharing a space with such individuals.
What was even more troublesome was….
Dong, dong-dong, dong-dong-dong.
‘I have to be the one taking care of these bastards’ meals.’
I furrowed my brow at the familiar bell sound.
Now that the Gung Elder had stepped away, someone had to manage the prisoners’ lives and their meals—and that someone was me.
The bell that had just rung was a signal from outside announcing mealtime.
‘At least it’s only once a day.’
Still, it was annoying. I sighed and moved my feet.
In a corner of the Underground Prison, a decrepit wooden tub and the haphazardly mixed food inside were waiting for me.
It had been sent down through a hole connected to the surface—calling it a meal was generous; it was more accurate to call it slop.
‘Looks like it’s feeding time, since no one’s around.’
Four days ago, Dang Sa-dok had used the word “feeding” for a reason.
The Sichuan Tang Sect treated the prisoners here like dogs and pigs.
No, dogs and pigs were better off. At least livestock didn’t have to endure the surprise events where the Gung Elder would flash an eerie smile and bring out various torture instruments.
“Heave.”
I made my rounds through the Underground Prison with the mindset of a zookeeper, carrying the slop tub.
Beyond the thick iron bars sat prisoners with limbs bound in steel chains, and all I had to do was open the door, scoop up a ladle full, and place it in the worn bowls in front of them.
Each time, the prisoners—rendered listless by long imprisonment and torture—would suddenly brighten their eyes and try to strike up a conversation.
“Haven’t seen your face before.”
“This is the fourth time I’ve seen you. What nonsense are you spouting?”
“Free me, and I shall teach you martial arts that could conquer the world.”
“Judging by the fact that you’re locked up here, those martial arts don’t seem worth much.”
“You… if I ever escape this place, I’ll tear you to shreds with my own hands.”
“Oh, impressive. I should relay that directly to the Gung Elder.”
“Please, anything but that!”
The attempts at persuasion never ceased. Some offered to teach me their martial arts, while a middle-aged beauty who had once drained the vital essence of the Tang Sect’s direct disciples through the technique of Drawing Yang to Supplement Yin tried to seduce me.
“Boy. Won’t you come closer? I’ll show you paradise.”
“Krraaah, Asuka. Old Master Uehara.”
“…What?”
“The continent still has far to go compared to the island nation. Stop your nonsense and just eat your meal.”
“Hey, hey! You, you little turtle bastard!”
I ignored the angry shouts and moved toward the final Underground Prison.
In the most remote and damp location sat an eccentric with disheveled hair.
‘The most docile old man in this Underground Prison.’
And simultaneously, the most dangerous. The severed limb tendons and restraints several times heavier and sturdier than those on the other prisoners were proof of that.
Clang. Thud.
The old man, who had been staring blankly at the bowl containing unidentifiable food, suddenly opened his mouth.
“He was talking about you, the Old Master.”
I froze for a moment.
Not because I hadn’t heard his voice in four days, but because I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“A story about me? When did I ever—”
“Four days ago. Didn’t the Gung Elder tell you?”
The Gung Elder? You mean Gung Elder?
As I searched my memory, I looked at the old man with newfound understanding.
“Ah, so you’re the one who… urinated on the Kunlun Sect’s signboard?”
“Yes. I am Cheon Ryeok-ma…”
“So the Kunlun Sect’s chronic public urinator was you all along.”
“…”
The old man—Cheon Ryeok-ma’s—eyelids trembled slightly.

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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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