Murim Login - Chapter 366

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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 366
Pitter-patter, pit-a-pit-a-patter.
The world lay submerged in darkness so profound that time itself became meaningless.
The sky hung heavy with dark clouds, and the downpour I’d mistaken for a passing shower showed no signs of stopping.
Within the grounds of the Sichuan Tang Sect, corpses formed small mounds near the overflowing pools of blood.
“So, what’s the situation inside?”
Before the City Gate of the Sichuan Tang Sect, a Black Robed Organization member perched atop the corpse of an unnamed sect martial artist posed the question to a subordinate who had just arrived from the Inner Hall.
“The situation hasn’t concluded yet. Apparently, around a hundred remain.”
“What? That many?”
“Only half of them are martial artists. The rest are craftsmen without martial training, women, or children, they say.”
“Then why not just sweep them all away? What pointless nonsense are they doing?”
The Black Robed Organization member’s frustration was justified. Guarding the entrance while others earned merit was already unbearable, and this tedious gate-keeping duty still hadn’t ended.
“Well, that is….”
“Is there some reason for this?”
Seeing his superior’s furrowed brow, the subordinate hurried to continue.
“The surviving Tang Sect martial artists are elite, but the sect members have activated their formation mechanisms, which is causing delays.”
“Formation mechanisms? Poison formations shouldn’t be difficult to break through.”
“Not poison—explosives. They were hiding Heavenly Thunder Grenades.”
“…Surely you don’t mean the Heavenly Thunder Grenades from the Byeok Ryeok Gate that I know of.”
“It appears so. Because of those who charge with Heavenly Thunder Grenades and detonate themselves, our brothers have suffered considerable casualties.”
“Damn, I’ve never seen such madmen.”
The Black Robed Organization member’s jaw dropped. I’d wondered what caused those ominous explosions, but to think they possessed Heavenly Thunder Grenades from the Byeok Ryeok Gate, a sect long extinct.
Now I could understand why the battle was prolonged.
“Wait, then what has the Heavenly Demon Lord been doing? He should have been more than capable of slaughtering them.”
Beneath the Black Robed Organization member’s question lay unwavering faith in the Western Heavenly Demon Lord.
And rightfully so—the Western Heavenly Demon Lord was one of the few servants who could stand before the Heavenly Master himself, and possessed a terrifying divine power.
I didn’t know how devastating the Heavenly Thunder Grenades truly were, but even if their creator returned from the dead, they couldn’t harm the Western Heavenly Demon Lord.
“According to reports, he descended into the Underground Prison beneath the sect about an hour ago.”
The Black Robed Organization member nodded at his subordinate’s answer.
If That Person moved personally, there would be sufficient reason, and it would be resolved without a single mistake. Not a shred of worry or doubt crossed his mind.
This sentiment was shared by everyone present.
“Then what of the First Demon Lord?”
The First Demon Lord was the position Il-gwe, the first of the Three Demons of Giresan, assumed when he entered the Western Heavenly Demon Lord’s service.
The subordinate, who had hesitated briefly, answered.
“He’s engaged in a life-or-death battle with the Sword Saint’s successor in the Inner Hall. Since one brother who went to report about the Heavenly Thunder Grenades had his head severed, no one has dared approach.”
“…I see.”
The Black Robed Organization member fell silent.
While his feelings toward the Western Heavenly Demon Lord were reverence and trust, his feelings toward Il-gwe were fear. He had no desire to meet a gruesome end by carelessly voicing complaints.
“Um, Squad Leader.”
“Do you have something to say?”
“Yes, the Sect Leader asked about news regarding the brothers who went to Qingcheng and Emei.”
“As it happens, Messenger Hawk arrived just before you got here.”
The subordinate who received a small container from the Black Robed Organization examined it with a bewildered expression.
“This is….”
“It came from Emei.”
“Is this all there is?”
“Yes. There’s still been no contact from Qingcheng.”
“By now, they should have already arrived.”
“True enough. But you know as well as I do what kind of men the other Sect Leaders are.”
The three brothers of the Qilian Three Demons shared more than just their hideous appearances.
All equally cruel and temperamental, they were demons whose eyes would roll back at the first sight of blood.
Sam-gwe, who oversaw the Emei Sect, was marginally better—at least he’d sent Messenger Hawk on schedule.
The problem was that the letter’s contents painted a picture of Emei’s situation unfolding far less smoothly than expected.
‘The Beggar Clan has gotten involved.’
The letter stated that wandering monks with death staffs and dog-headed cudgels had suddenly appeared.
Though their individual martial prowess couldn’t compare to Dark Heaven’s warriors, the implications were significant.
‘They’ve already caught the scent.’
A meticulously calculated assault. A battle meant to end swiftly was dragging on. Yet despite such variables, the Black Robed Organization had no doubt of their forces’ victory.
Having shaken off the unease that had briefly gripped him, he suddenly looked up.
“Hmm?”
“What is it, sir?”
“What is that?”
At the Black Robed Organization’s puzzled voice, not only the subordinate bearing news from the Inner Hall but also the thirty-odd warriors scattered at regular intervals along the city wall rushed toward their commander.
And they could soon see it—beyond the collapsed city wall, cutting through the downpour, a single streak of wind.
So swift it could be called a beam of light, it erupted into a brilliant flash.
Screeeeeech, crack!
The thirty-odd warriors blinked. As they reflexively touched their faces, sticky blood came away on their fingers.
Slowly, very slowly, everyone’s mouths fell open and their heads turned.
In that slowed world, they saw their commander’s body crumbling like rotted wood.
A hole the size of a fingernail had been bored through his brow.
“…!”
It felt as though something had struck the back of his head.
A supreme master whose name could resound across the entire realm—their commander, possessed of such skill, had met death from an invisible strike.
Before everyone present could even recover from that staggering shock, a figure’s silhouette rose above the city wall.
And the next moment.
Shiiiiiiing!
In the darkness, beams of light pregnant with death rained down like lightning.
* * *
Il-gwe was on the verge of madness. Or rather, already mad for fifty years, he was descending further into insanity.
“Why! Why! How could this be!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Crimson energy surged from the twin axes in my hands, slashing and tearing through the air in all directions.
The once-formidable Pavilion where the master of the Sichuan Tang Sect had resided lay in ruins long ago.
A single figure moved through the devastation with unrestrained freedom.
“Agh! Oof! Ugh! Huff!”
At the sight of Chung Poong leaping about with those strange sounds, dodging the energy blasts, Il-gwe’s eyes rolled back in exasperation.
“This infuriating brat…!”
It was enough to drive anyone mad.
My opponent was barely past infancy—a monster without precedent, trained by the Sword Saint himself and reaching the pinnacle at merely twenty years old. Yet even such a prodigy could not ignore the gap that came with age.
I was an old demon of the previous generation, possessing immense power and experience, martial arts of the highest realm.
Therefore, while I had been surprised at first, I felt no real sense of danger.
‘The Sword Saint has raised quite the specimen. There was reason for the Heavenly Demon’s instructions before he departed. But this youngster still has far to go to truly threaten me. Kekeke.’
However, the smile on my lips transformed into fury far sooner than expected.
“Die! I said die!”
With a maddened cry, the twin axes cleaved through the air. A sprawling net of energy descended toward Chung Poong’s head.
The Red Slaughter Asura Net—one of the supreme techniques left behind by the Red Slaughter Demon, who had drenched the martial world in blood three centuries ago.
That legendary Kill Star, hunted as a public enemy of the Central Plains martial world, met his end in a nameless cave in the Qilian Mountains. The three brothers who hid to escape notice eventually learned the martial arts he left behind, and were reborn under the name Qilian Three Demons.
And now, the supreme Red Slaughter Asura Net—which no one had been able to manifest since the Red Slaughter Demon himself—was finally being recreated through my twin axes.
Whoooosh!
It was at that very moment.
That Chung Poong’s eyes grew profoundly distant as he gazed upon the crimson energy net rushing toward him from all four directions.
Swiiish—
A cool wind blew. Simultaneously, violet sword energy wrapped around the straightened blade sliced diagonally through the energy net.
Screech!
At the sight of Chung Poong’s Single Character Wisdom Sword so effortlessly dismantling the supreme Red Slaughter Asura Net, my jaw dropped.
“You, you brat—did you know the Red Slaughter Demon’s martial arts!”
No martial art is perfectly flawless.
The techniques left by the Red Slaughter Demon were all worthy of being called supreme arts, yet they certainly had weaknesses—secrets known only to the Qilian Three Demons.
Yet this mere child had perceived them with perfect accuracy.
“Answer me at once!”
And Chung Poong’s response came immediately after, brief and straightforward.
“The Red Slaughter Demon? I’ve never heard of them before.”
“…What?”
“Oh, is that because of what just happened?”
Chung Poong tilted his head and continued.
“I just saw it, that’s all.”
“You, you saw it?”
“If I keep watching, I figure it out. Grandfather has more power and more complex martial arts than me, so it took longer with him.”
“It, it took longer?”
“Yes. But I think it won’t take as long anymore.”
“…!”
Il-gwe understood what Chung Poong’s final words meant in the next instant.
Whiiiish!
A violet flash flooded his vision.
Without warning, a single sword stroke descended, and Il-gwe frantically scattered his twin axes like lightning.
The Red Slaughter Demon’s Eighteen Axes lacked finesse in technique, but excelled in destructive power. With this man’s overwhelming internal energy added to the mix, the force seemed capable of splitting heaven and earth asunder.
And yet….
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
The blade flowed smoothly, gliding the axe blade to the side. Then it struck down forcefully, intercepting the other axe that had been aimed at Chung Poong’s ribs.
Boom!
With a deafening crash, my body staggered. Having struck my own axes together, I retreated in utter bewilderment.
‘What… what in the world is happening right now?’
Whoosh!
Chung Poong shot toward me.
His clear eyes had grown profoundly dark, and violet energy resembling the sunset blazed from his blade.
Whoooosh!
I stared at the strike descending toward my crown with a vacant expression.
‘This… this is….’
Unmistakably so. The Red Slaughter Demon’s Eighteen Axes—no, what should now be called the Red Slaughter Demon’s Eighteen Swords.
In less than a moment, Chung Poong had not only discerned and countered my technique, but was making it his own.
‘How is this possible!’
I swung my twin axes, my shock too profound for words.
Though my reaction had dulled from the tremendous impact, it wasn’t so severe that I couldn’t defend.
Until the very next instant, I was certain of that.
Whoooosh.
A crude and destructive sword form blooms gently like falling petals. Thirty-six plum blossoms rise from the blade’s tip, scattering through the void.
One technique surfaced in my mind.
‘The Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords.’
Simultaneously, I understood.
‘There is no escape.’
Shhhhhhhh!
Thirty-six plum blossoms—no, torrents of energy—enveloped my entire body.
My form shattered completely, and I staggered backward, blood misting into the air like fog.
Fear flickered in my eyes as I gazed upon Chung Poong, his sword extended.
“Cough… you. You are….”
“I’m grateful for the rain,” Chung Poong said in a calm voice, stepping forward.
“I dislike the smell of blood.”
Splash.
Chung Poong’s foot pressed into the crimson puddle where raindrops and blood mingled. I let out a tearing scream.
Chung Poong’s foot stepped into a red puddle mixed with raindrops and blood. Il-gwe let out a piercing scream.
“Who’s there! Is anyone here! Seize this bastard at once—!”
In that instant, a soft voice pierced through his ears.
“Don’t call for help. There’s no one to answer.”
“…!”
“…!”
No footsteps, no presence—yet he was there.
The rain pouring from above shattered into mist before it could touch him.
“And who in the hell are you….”
Schwick!
Il-gwe’s head soared into the air. Chung Poong stood rigid, his blade flicking blood away, his gaze fixed upon the towering figure before him.
“I have a question of my own. Who are you?”
Chung Poong’s voice trembled as he continued.
“Moon-kyung.”

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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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