Murim Login - Chapter 349

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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 349
After a moment of silence, Cheon Ryeok-ma finally spoke.
“…A wandering urinator? Do not address me by such a degrading name.”
Ah, I had made a mistake.
It seemed the Demon Lord, who once struck terror across the realm, found the epithet quite distasteful.
After a brief moment of consideration, I offered him a more suitable alternative.
“Well then, how about a bed-wetter?”
“You, you insolent—”
“If that displeases you, the Qinghai Fortress’s little accident.”
“I did not soil myself!”
“Then the one who pissed. A midsummer night’s urine. Featuring Kunlun Sect.”
“…!”
I clicked my tongue at Cheon Ryeok-ma, who could offer no further retort.
“I don’t know what possessed you to suddenly strike up a conversation, but I have no interest in hearing it or exchanging words, so eat your meal and relieve yourself to your heart’s content. Whether it’s excrement or urine. Or both simultaneously.”
“Wait, just a moment.”
How bothersome.
Having finished distributing the meal and about to leave the Underground Prison, I turned back with an irritated expression.
“What is it?”
“I have something to ask you.”
“If you have something to ask, must I necessarily answer?”
Yet Cheon Ryeok-ma, seized by some inexplicable desperation, did not yield. Draped in what might once have been called clothing—now mere tatters—his eyes gleamed as he spoke.
“The Divine Teaching, what has become of the Divine Teaching?”
“The Divine Teaching?”
“Yes, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!”
“Ah, the Demon Cult.”
The different nomenclature used by each faction momentarily confused me.
To most martial artists, including myself, they were the Demon Cult, but from the perspective of those within the organization, it could only be called the Divine Teaching.
Especially considering that Cheon Ryeok-ma before me was none other than a Demon Lord who had once earned considerable notoriety among them.
“Why, does being locked away for so long make you homesick?”
“Tell me.”
“That’s not difficult.”
I chuckled and continued.
“I don’t know either.”
“…What?”
“How would I know what the Demon Cult, buried far away in some distant place, is doing? Ask later when a Rookie from the Demon Cult gets assigned to the cell next door.”
Cheon Ryeok-ma looked at me with utter bewilderment.
“Are you not the successor of the Fire King? Yet you know nothing about your own sect?”
“…How did you know that?”
“Though my dantian is damaged, my ears still function.”
“For someone of your age, you’re quite sharp. How much do you know?”
“That the Fire King is healing his wounds here is something I’ve gathered.”
“Hmm.”
This old man possessed sharp instincts indeed.
Though Chung Poong had mentioned Jeok Cheon-gang’s name several times, it hadn’t been loud enough for the other prisoners to hear, and even if they had, the conversation would have been difficult to interpret.
‘So he speaks sparingly but listens intently.’
He was different from the other prisoners who seized upon every opening to attempt coercion.
I found myself developing a measure of interest in the old man before me.
“But why are you so curious about news of the Demon Cult? You’ve been imprisoned here for quite some time already.”
“Nearly forty years have passed.”
“By then the Orthodox-Demon War had already concluded. So you must have some idea of how things turned out?”
“Some idea?”
Cheon Ryeok-ma continued with a bitter smile.
“There are few in this world who understand our sect better than I do.”
“Seems you’ve pissed yourself quite a bit in that position.”
“I was once an elder of the Great Heavenly Demon Divine Teaching. It was I who, following the solemn command of our Cult Master, subjugated Qinghai Fortress and opened the gates of the Holy War.”
“Holy War my ass.”
Despite my blunt response, I was genuinely startled inwardly.
‘This man is far more significant than I thought.’
From the scattered information I’d gathered, the Demon Cult possessed elders—whether ten or seven, I couldn’t recall—who were formidable demons.
I’d suspected he was no ordinary demon leader from the moment he’d urinated on the Kunlun Sect’s signboard, but I never imagined this filthy old man waiting for death in the Underground Prison had once been an elder of the Demon Cult.
“It seems you knew nothing about me.”
“Of course not. How long ago was that? I’ve never even heard the alias Cheon Ryeok-ma until today.”
“…Heh heh. Time has indeed passed that quickly.”
I watched Cheon Ryeok-ma emit a self-deprecating laugh and leaned my back against the slanted wall of the Underground Prison.
“So then, what is it you wish to ask of me, an elder of the Demon Cult from forty years past?”
“Tell me everything you know of our sect’s recent circumstances, without omission or embellishment.”
“I don’t know. Something feels off about this.”
“I have long since passed ninety years of age, and both body and spirit are utterly exhausted. I am an old man who has already accepted the day of his death. This is my final request.”
“The request of a demon leader who committed countless atrocities, then.”
“Atrocities… I shall accept the punishment for the lives I have taken. But what truly is this ‘demon’ you speak of? Our sect and yours each relied upon our own convictions and opposed one another across the ages, and we were defeated in a battle where our very fates hung in the balance. That is all.”
Cheon Ryeok-ma continued in a clear voice, speaking as though lamenting.
“Can one truly judge right from wrong based merely on that? The world of that time was like gunpowder ready to explode at any moment. Had you reached our sect first by crossing Gansu and Qinghai, you would have slaughtered our people in the name of the greater good of the realm and the hollow excuse of eradicating evil at its root.”
“But from what I’ve heard….”
“Listen well.”
At his quiet voice, I fell silent. A pair of eyes burned more fiercely than ever, fixing their gaze upon me.
They were not the eyes of an old man awaiting death with sealed martial arts, but those of a general who once commanded a faction and swept through the realm—a supreme master of unparalleled skill.
“I have witnessed and experienced much. I have seen how cruel humans can become in the face of war, where death begets death. The disciples of our sect who cried out for Holy War, the sect leaders of the Nine Major Sects and One Alliance who shouted for demon extermination—none were exceptions. Even….”
In that moment, the burning light in his eyes dimmed, and only a bitter voice scattered like ashes into the void.
“Our Cult Master himself fell into corruption, abandoning his original convictions. Perhaps, as you Orthodox sects claim, our Demon Cult was indeed demonic.”
Hearing Cheon Ryeok-ma’s words, my mind grew turbulent.
When I think about it, what he said just now resonates with something I’ve recently come to understand.
‘Good people exist everywhere. Evil people exist everywhere.’
Long years of animosity. The Demon Cult and the Orthodox Martial Arts World, standing before a powder keg ready to explode at any moment, each watching the other’s every move while holding the match.
The Demon Cult was the one who finally lit the fuse, but what if the Orthodox Sects had struck first?
Would the Angry Sword Immortal and the Tae-eul Mujeong Sword have simply left the Demon Cult’s innocent civilians alone?
‘Not a chance.’
Suddenly, those two figures and Cheon Ryeok-ma overlap in my mind. Who is white and who is black? Is there something hidden in the flow of history, something unknown to the records?
Damn it, I have no idea.
I bit my lip hard and pushed myself away from the cold wall.
“There’s no point telling me such things.”
Cheon Ryeok-ma nodded weakly.
“…I know. Nothing is as fleeting as stories of a past that has already passed.”
“I’m not as knowledgeable about the Demon Cult as you might think. If someone who knew more had been here instead of me, they might have been able to bring you the information you desired.”
“Could it be that the main sect has fallen?”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to be that way. From what I hear, they’re somehow maintaining their lineage.”
Recently, the name Dark Heaven has been too prominent, but the Demon Cult remains the eternal nemesis of the Orthodox Martial Arts World by default.
Add to that the suspected connection with Dark Heaven, and the Martial Alliance Headquarters in Hanan must be conducting investigations into both the Demon Cult and Dark Heaven as we speak.
“I heard they suffered tremendous damage during the Righteous-Demon Great War and were reduced to a pitiful state.”
The Central Plains isn’t called the center of the world for nothing.
Unlike the Orthodox Martial Arts World, which absorbed abundant resources and population like a sponge and recovered much of the damage, the Demon Cult had to bear the full brunt of the devastation and was driven into the Tianshan Mountain Range.
“…That must be so. It was a war that mobilized all of the main sect’s strength.”
He chuckled softly, a self-deprecating smile playing at his lips.
“Heh. Once we controlled half the world, and now we’ve become utterly pathetic. When the Cult Master accepted villains like the Qilian Three Demons and the Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts, I should have risked my life to stop it. But then again, that’s when the Cult Master began to change as well.”
“The Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts?”
“You wouldn’t know, but there were such beings long ago….”
“Oh, I know them.”
“What? You know the Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts?”
I nodded as though it were obvious.
“I’m not sure about the Qilian Three Demons, but I know the Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts.”
“A brat who’s never even heard of my alias, and you know the Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts?”
“Well, you see.”
I scratched the back of my head and continued.
“I tend to remember the aliases of opponents I’ve faced. Especially masters of that caliber.”
“…What, what did you say? You fought the Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts?”
“To be precise, just one of them. My Old Master Noya—I mean, my master killed one of the Yang Ghosts. The Yin Ghost died at the hands of some lunatic and followed his friend to the afterlife. Anyway, what the hell were those bastards doing, treating Hanan like Gotham City….”
“…!”
At my muttering, Cheon Ryeok-ma, who had been frozen with his mouth gaping open, began spilling words frantically.
“The, the Yin-Yang Twin Ghosts! How did they survive and emerge in the Martial World? And in Hanan of all places? Did the main sect launch a surprise attack on Shaolin!”
“Shaolin was indeed turned upside down. But it wasn’t the Demon Cult’s doing.”
“Then, then whose doing was it?”
I had anticipated it to some degree, but Cheon Ryeok-ma truly knew nothing of how the Martial World currently operated.
The only outsider he had contact with was Gung Elder.
‘Besides, that old man hardly possessed the temperament to explain things kindly.’
Unless he kindly severed tendons while explaining.
After a moment’s deliberation, I decided to tell him the truth.
Cheon Ryeok-ma was destined to never escape the Underground Prison until his death anyway.
Now that the existence of Dark Heaven—once a top-secret matter—was gradually spreading through various influential sects, there was no harm in revealing it.
“Well, I’m not sure how to describe this exactly.”
“Speak! Quickly!”
“Wait a moment.”
Ah, that’s right.
Having finally found the appropriate word, I opened my mouth with admiration for my own wit.
“They switched jobs.”
“…?”
“Whether it was a job change or an internal department transfer, I’m not entirely sure, but until their deaths, they serve not the Demon Cult but a place called Dark Heaven….”
In the end, my words never reached their conclusion. The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and a familiar face appeared.
“Yay!”
“…Swallow what’s in your mouth first before you speak.”
“Yay! Yay! Eatee doo boe o! Mayeo yo!”
“Stop with all that yaying. Did you find the captain staying in Namcheon District?”
“Yay!”
“I see. You went to the sauna and shared a meal together too, I suppose.”
“Jjja ma mayeo yo!”
Both cheeks were stuffed to bursting with snacks, yet it seemed insufficient—paper-wrapped food filled the entire front of the garment.
I was about to bite into a perfectly roasted duck leg when I extended it instead toward the person I had momentarily forgotten.
“Want one?”
And finally, I could face it.
The sight of Cheon Ryeok-ma, frozen rigid like a statue.

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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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