Murim Login - Chapter 449

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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 449
From the moment Sun Hwa-ah Moo Song crossed the oddly intensified currents of Tianling Waterfall and entered the domain of Dongjeong Pavilion, his heart had begun to race with increasing urgency.
‘Uncle Hwang. The young master has arrived.’
Huang Chong, the master of Dongjeong Pavilion and known as the Yangtze One Blade, was like a mentor to Moo Song. Perhaps even more than that.
Moo Song’s true master, the Sea King, was not a particularly warm person, and their relationship was as dry as parched sand.
In his childhood, Moo Song had endured the harsh criticism and rigorous training only because of Huang Chong’s warm counsel and consideration.
‘I trust the young master. Uncle is not the kind of person to do such things.’
Among all in the Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance, he was the most serious and thoughtful.
There was no way such a Huang Chong would resort to such a vile move as eliminating the Hae-sa Bang and the Dongjeong Fisherman Elder in this manner.
Because of his unwavering faith in him, Moo Song had chosen to come to this place himself.
Yet separate from this belief, his unease continued to swell with each passing moment.
‘Why is it so quiet?’
The Huang Chong he knew—the Yangtze One Blade—was meticulous and cautious in all things. He would never neglect the defenses of the stronghold, relying only on Tianling Waterfall.
Dongjeong Pavilion was a natural fortress built upon the Yangtze River.
Should unauthorized intruders cross Tianling Waterfall, they would soon encounter a gorge hundreds of zhang in length, and countless arrows waiting to greet them from above.
But….
‘We are already at the gates. Why is there no response whatsoever?’
Even with the Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance’s banner raised high and drums beaten to signal their arrival, the surroundings remained as silent as before.
Moo Song’s heart pounded fiercely as he gazed at the island shrouded in thick mist.
‘Something is wrong.’
A fleeting thought crossed his mind. The inexplicable unease he felt soon revealed its substance.
“It appears something has happened.”
“What do you mean…!”
Moo Song turned at the words of Moon-kyung, the young physician, but found himself unable to speak, swallowing hard instead.
Soon, agitation spread like wildfire among those on the vessel.
“That, that is….”
“A corpse! There’s a corpse!”
Everyone present was a martial artist accustomed to blood and death. They had seen corpses countless times, yet this situation was different.
This was Dongjeong Pavilion. With the core members of Hae-sa Bang completely annihilated and the Dongjeong Fisherman Elder confirmed dead, there was virtually no one in Hubei Province capable of crossing the now-fiercer Tianling Waterfall to reach this place.
Yet here was a corpse, appearing from nowhere.
Among the agitated crowd, Moo Song, who had been silent, forced out his voice.
“…Pull it up at once. We must examine it.”
“Yes, sir!”
Before the sailors of the Water Dragon Stronghold could move, one figure stepped forward decisively.
“Stand back.”
Fire King Red Sky River, who had been raging wildly mere moments before, spoke in a subdued tone and reached out his hand.
Powerful force tore through space and pulled the submerged corpse toward the vessel.
Whoosh, thud!
With a heavy sound, a corpse landed on the deck of the Fast Ship.
Upon seeing the body with half its upper half missing and its face swollen, Moo Song’s eyes widened in shock.
“Th-this person….”
“Do you know them?”
At Jin Tae-kyung’s question as he stepped closer, Moo-song nodded with a dazed expression.
“Wang Pil, the Little Tide Ghost. Uncle Hwang’s right hand and vice-leader of the Dongjeong Pavilion.”
The Dongjeong Pavilion that commanded the Yangtze River in Hubei Province. As the vice-leader of such a pavilion and the right hand of Huang Chong, the Yangtze River’s supreme master, it was only natural that his name and alias were well-known.
Jin Tae-kyung’s face hardened like stone as he stared at Moo-song, leaving sighs in the wake of the alias “Little Tide Ghost.”
“Vice-leader? Are you certain?”
“Without doubt. Though the corpse is severely damaged, the face is still recognizable.”
“…Damn it.”
Jin Tae-kyung’s face turned rigid. It wasn’t just him—everyone who grasped the situation shared the same expression.
Even an ordinary sailor’s death would be ominous enough, but this was the vice-leader of the Dongjeong Pavilion, a supreme master of the Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance renowned throughout Hubei’s martial world.
The meaning of this chain of events was unmistakable.
‘Something has happened to the Dongjeong Pavilion.’
Jin Tae-kyung was the first to act on the thought that flashed through everyone’s minds.
Whoosh!
He crossed the deck at dazzling speed and reached the stern of the Fast Ship, extending both arms with all his might.
Boom! Booooom!
The scorching heat contained within the Flame Divine Palm evaporated the water and propelled the Fast Ship forward.
Only then did those who had snapped out of their shock move to follow Jin Tae-kyung.
“Sailors, return to your posts and take up the oars! Time is of the essence!”
“Alert the other ships! Send signals at once!”
Boom, boom, booom!
Urgent shouts and drum beats shattered the silence.
In the midst of the chaotic frenzy, Moo-song felt his own heart pounding louder and more violently than the drums echoing all around, and he lifted his head.
And in the next moment.
“…!”
He could see it. They all could.
Beyond the mist slowly dispersing along the bow of the Fast Ship, the shattered ferry dock and countless corpses filling the river waters.
* * *
“What the hell…!”
A curse burst from my lips before I could stop myself. But no one gave me a reproachful look or blamed me.
Perhaps they were too overwhelmed to care, or maybe they were relieved that I had voiced what they all wanted to say.
The scene unfolding before my eyes was that horrific.
“This is hell itself.”
“…How could this happen.”
Jeok Cheon-gang muttered in a deeply sunken voice, while Chung Poong, usually so bright, gazed around with trembling eyes.
Wherever his gaze fell, collapsed houses and corpses were strewn about.
The bodies we had witnessed near the ferry dock were merely a fraction of the countless deaths that had descended upon this place.
“C-captain. Over there….”
“I see it.”
I deliberately ignored Hyuk Moo-jin as he called out to me with a trembling voice.
I had already seen what lay in the direction he was pointing at, and my teeth clenched involuntarily.
‘Children and ordinary civilians without martial training.’
The island was not home only to the Water Thieves of Dongjeong Pavilion.
They had brought their own families and relatives to this safe, natural fortress, and the gathered people had formed a village.
And….
‘They’re all dead.’
Infants barely weaned from their mother’s milk, frail elderly, women, and hundreds of Water Thieves who should have protected them with their lives.
Not a single exception—all had met death.
This was the conclusion my companions and I, along with the martial artists of Wudang Sect and Jeongal Family, and the Water Thieves of Water Dragon Stronghold led by Moo-song, had reached after meticulously searching the island for more than half a day.
And among those countless deaths was the name of one person.
“Uncle Hwang!”
As Moo-song’s bestial roar echoed from afar, Gung Ki-bang muttered in a somber voice.
“So he’s finally been found.”
Some say that human lives have no hierarchy.
But clearly, a hierarchy exists. The weight of a death differs depending on what kind of person the deceased was in life and what relationship they held with me.
For Moo-song, Huang Chong—the Yangtze River Master—was certainly such a person.
“The family head has ordered us to bring you with urgency.”
At the urgent words of the Jeongal Family martial artist who had rushed over, Jin Wi-kyung nodded.
“It must be related to Hwang Dae-hyup.”
“Yes. Hwang Dae-hyup’s corpse has just been discovered. However….”
“Let’s go. We’ll hear the rest directly from the Jeongal family head.”
We moved without another word.
Not to mourn his death, but because the deceased Huang Chong was an important enough figure to warrant this response.
The reason Jeok Cheon-gang’s face—the only one among us with prior acquaintance with him—had hardened was not from sorrow either.
– What do you make of this situation?
At a whispered transmission that suddenly pierced my ear, I slowed my pace and answered.
– I share Old Master Noya’s thoughts.
– And what thoughts might those be?
– The same as mine.
– The Fire King needs to relieve himself.
– I’ve needed to go since earlier too, but I’m holding it. Old Master, you hold it as well. I’m still organizing my thoughts on what needs to be said.
I calmly laid out the thoughts I had wrestled with over the past half day.
– Dongjeong Pavilion is a natural fortress that can only be reached by crossing Tianling Waterfall. Even without knowing the full details of this place, defeating Huang Chong—a supreme master of the highest caliber—and his subordinate Water Thieves would be impossible with anything less than overwhelming force.
– Even a stray dog gets a taste of defeat in its own yard, but to face those seasoned in the Yangtze River, one needs absolute superiority in power.
Jeok Cheon-gang’s transmission continued.
– Especially since Huang Chong was like a water ghost who achieved total victory in every naval battle against the Demon Cult during the Great Demon Suppression Campaign, it would have taken at least twice the forces to annihilate Dongjeong Pavilion.
Twice the forces of Dongjeong Pavilion….
I only learned this after arriving here, but Dongjeong Pavilion’s scale is incomparable to other water strongholds.
The number of corpses discovered so far already exceeds a thousand, making it substantial enough to be called a sect in its own right.
‘Moo-song once said the same thing. That Dongjeong Pavilion was the second most formidable water stronghold after the Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance.’
One could discern the truth simply by observing the surroundings.
Though everything now lay in ruins and devastation, a single water stronghold had assembled a fleet of over fifty vessels and constructed dwellings that rivaled the prosperous quarters of great cities.
While not comparable to the illustrious sects like the Nine Major Sects and One Alliance or the Five Great Families, the water thieves under the Yangtze River’s command must have been formidable elites as well.
And there were precious few organizations capable of deploying twice the military force against such a Dongjeong Pavilion. In fact, one could count them on their fingers.
– Any faction capable of mobilizing such forces and vessels would be….
– From what I know, there are only four in Hubei Province. One of them is already as good as gone.
– Wudang School, Jeongal Family, the government, and Hae-sa Bang. Is that correct?
– Precisely. However, Hae-sa Bang consists mostly of those gathered for livelihood, so their number of masters is woefully insufficient. Wudang and Jeongal possess strength, but they lack both reason and justification to strike at Dongjeong Pavilion.
– The government would be in the same position.
– Of course. That the Martial World and government maintain a mutual non-aggression pact is common knowledge even to a child. Even if the Emperor himself had issued an imperial decree for subjugation, they could not have concealed it so thoroughly and handled it in such secrecy.
The Martial World is a tree with roots driven deep into the forest of the realm.
Its branches have already grown too high to prune, and one fears the axe blade itself would dull if one attempted to fell it carelessly.
This was precisely why the Martial World had endured even as the forest’s master changed hands countless times.
A towering giant tree that even the Emperor himself could not readily bring his axe against.
That is the Martial World, and the countless branches and leaves sprouting from this colossus have grown by joining forces or sometimes breaking one another.
The Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance was a rather thick branch among them.
Should one gather the water strongholds scattered across the realm into one place, they would merit being called a formidable force, and their number of masters was scarcely inferior to the Nine Major Sects and One Alliance or the Five Great Families.
Yet a branch of this very Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance had been snapped. By someone whose identity remained unknown.
– Old Master, do you believe Hyung Soo is one of these four: Wudang, Jeongal, the government, or Hae-sa Bang?
– Hundreds of vessels traverse these waters daily. To mobilize such forces while evading countless eyes and cross the Tianling Waterfall… that would be extraordinarily difficult.
– Or it could be extraordinarily easy.
I finally let slip the words that had been dancing on my tongue all this while.
– If it were Dark Heaven.
– …!
– They would have no need to load hundreds or thousands of troops onto vessels and cross the Tianling Waterfall. If that formation technique called Warp—or rather, the Teleportation Formation—were hidden somewhere in these waters, everything would be resolved.
Dark Heaven had already proven it in Shaolin and Sichuan.
If my suspicion were true, it would sufficiently explain why the countless eyes traversing the Yangtze noticed nothing.
Jeok Cheon-gang, who had been silent for a while, let out a small sigh.
– So I was not alone in thinking this.
– In a matter like this, to exclude Dark Heaven would be… the stench is far too ripe.
– But then, why specifically the Yangtze River Water Bandit Alliance?
– I couldn’t say.
I gazed toward the familiar faces drawing slowly closer in the distance and continued.
– We’ll have to find out starting now.

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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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