Murim Login - Chapter 502

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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 502
“So you were here.”
At the sudden voice from behind, the Old Master’s brow twitched as he sat in lotus position with his eyes closed.
“I have no recollection of inviting anyone.”
“That’s not my concern. But I must say, it’s far more cramped than I expected. Absurdly so.”
“It had to be. I made no provisions for uninvited guests.”
“Was it about seven weeks ago? I’m certain I said something similar to someone before….”
For some reason, the old man’s small frame trembled at those words.
But before the uninvited guest could ponder the reason, a sharp, cutting voice pierced through.
“Leave. You’re disrupting my cultivation.”
“By all means, continue. I shall personally stand guard for you.”
The old man, Fire King Red Sky River, opened his eyes.
Darkness receded, and the damp cave wall, spotted with moss here and there, filled his vision.
Then, from between his tightly pressed lips, a sharp voice emerged.
“Entrusting my protection to none other than Sal-sung? You jest in the most unfunny manner.”
“Compared to a cherished disciple, an old life like mine should be manageable. Or have I misunderstood?”
“…!”
At those words, Red Sky River’s eyelids trembled. And in the next moment.
*Whoosh.*
The small frame sitting in lotus position rose into the air and slowly turned before landing.
Red Sky River stared silently at the figure blocking the narrow cave entrance, then spoke.
“How did you discover I was here?”
Moon-kyung answered in a dry voice.
“When I climbed up, a Great Tiger approached and rubbed its head against me. It was no novice’s work.”
“I left no traces.”
“That was always my specialty.”
“So no matter how well you masquerade as a physician, you’re still an assassin at heart?”
“Some things cannot be forgotten, no matter how one tries. That is all. With so many eyes watching and nothing but river all around, the options are limited.”
A blade honed by a master craftsman does not dull even as the years pass.
The keenness of the legendary blade named Sal-sung remained undiminished even now, after forty-odd years.
No—while his instincts as an assassin may have dulled, his mastery as a martial artist had only grown sharper.
“…Perhaps I should have sought a more concealed place.”
“That would have merely taken more time.”
An assassin is a master of assassination and pursuit.
Red Sky River detected confidence in Moon-kyung’s composed expression and muttered.
“Damn. What rotten luck with this assassin.”
“I heard that.”
“I meant for you to hear it.”
“Cursing outright? You have quite the temperament, master.”
“Not as much as one who interrupts wall-facing cultivation without warning.”
“The Fire King of all under heaven is in wall-facing meditation.”
A voice without inflection echoed through the cave.
Moon-kyung’s gaze, lowered in thought, swept slowly across the surroundings. The space was so cramped and damp it hardly deserved the name cave, and save for the cross-legged old man, nothing else existed within it.
Yet there were things that stood out all the more for their singular presence.
‘Red Sky River. This man….’
Cracked lips and bones jutting prominently beneath withered skin—Moon-kyung’s eyes darkened as he captured every detail of Red Sky River’s condition without missing a thing.
Judging by his emaciated frame, it was clear he had not so much as touched a drop of water to his lips, let alone food, for the past seven days and nights.
No matter how supreme a master one might be, such strain on the body was undeniably perilous.
“You’re being foolish.”
Red Sky River was not one to miss the meaning behind Moon-kyung’s words. A fierce light blazed in his sunken eyes.
“I’ll return to you exactly what you said earlier. None of your concern.”
“What of the Grain-Avoidance Pill?”
“I won’t take it. It tastes awful.”
“…So you share that trait as well.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
I had spoken carelessly. Just as Red Sky River’s flimsy excuse for not taking the Grain-Avoidance Pill—that it tasted terrible—was equally pointless.
Moon-kyung shook his head and continued.
“As a physician, I must advise you that this is not a wise choice.”
“As an old man, I’m telling you to mind your own business.”
“You’re far more stubborn than I expected.”
“And you meddle far more than I expected. Since when have you taken such interest in others’ affairs?”
“That is….”
Moon-kyung fell silent abruptly. I wanted to retort, but no suitable words came to mind.
And that silence was as good as admitting that Red Sky River’s words held truth.
‘Perhaps he’s not entirely wrong.’
When I first left Sichuan, I was not like this. Yet at some point, I had begun to change, bit by bit.
When I played the role of an innocent young physician to deceive others’ eyes, I would laugh and speak freely. But when alone with Red Sky River or Jin Tae-kyung, there was no need for such ill-fitting pretense.
Yet why, I wondered, did I find myself speaking more today?
No—perhaps this was not merely a matter of today.
‘Why, exactly.’
I recalled myself from seven days ago, when I had accepted Red Sky River’s absurd proposal.
Along with the face of Red Sky River, speaking with an expression too bitter to describe.
It was then that my tightly sealed lips had opened.
“Why don’t you ask?”
“Ask what?”
“About Jin Tae-kyung.”
“…!”
This time, Red Sky River’s words faltered.
That name he had tried so hard to avoid.
The name of someone Moon-kyung had hoped would pass by unnoticed was enough to send ripples through the heart he had forcibly suppressed.
“Is that boy… doing well?”
“He’s managing to keep up. Not bad.”
Jeok Cheon-gang couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s nonsense. Managing to keep up? That’s the most amusing thing I’ve heard in ages.”
“…”
“Don’t mind me. Tell me what you truly think.”
Moon-kyung, who had been staring intently at Jeok Cheon-gang, finally opened his mouth.
“His progress is remarkably swift. Even I am astonished by it.”
“I asked for your true thoughts.”
“This is my true thought.”
“It’s only half the truth. You left out the part about coveting him.”
“…”
“Yes, it’s always been that way.”
Jeok Cheon-gang held a faint smile.
From the day I first met Jin Tae-kyung until now, each day had been a succession of marvels.
Bones and frame bestowed by heaven, martial prowess of the highest caliber. What master of supreme skill who had established his own martial path would not covet such a disciple?
And that applied to Jeok Cheon-gang himself as well.
“When Tae-kyung first came to know that boy, I suddenly had a thought. If the martial arts of the Yeolhwa Sect were to be inherited by this child, might we not glimpse the very end of the martial way?”
To preserve the lineage of the Yeolhwa Sect passed down through centuries, talent was necessary, and Jin Tae-kyung was the only person who met that standard better than anyone.
It was certainly so at first.
“At first, I was merely amazed, and then I felt regret. For I was not granted much time.”
Single-handedly, he had felled a thousand cultists of the Demon Cult and brought countless Demon Masters to their knees.
With the might of his formidable martial power, he had reversed the tide of battle and led the victory in the Righteous-Demonic War from the vanguard.
Yet the supreme master known as the Fire King, revered throughout the Martial World, had a true adversary of a different kind.
“It was long ago. When the Heart Demon came calling.”
The wound left behind by my first disciple ran deep, and it soon gnawed away at the body and spirit of the master left alone. Bit by bit, slowly. But relentlessly.
“It was strange. Everything else continued moving forward, yet I alone was stepping backward.”
Time flew like a loosed arrow. By the time the arrowhead struck its mark, more than thirty years had already passed.
Jeok Cheon-gang, who had gained no enlightenment and merely let time flow away like water, one day faced an unbelievable reality.
“It was a clear day. I was enjoying the cool breeze when I suddenly came to my senses—surrounded by people. Half a day had passed without my knowledge. Ha ha.”
That was the day No-hwan had come calling, and I had laughed in the same way.
Not from joy, nor from despair. Simply laughing because I knew not what else to do.
Jeok Cheon-gang realized what he must do shortly after that first half-day had become two days.
“I left Jiuhua Mountain to kill one person.”
And I returned having gained one person.
“My first disciple. I had to deal with him with these hands before it was too late.”
But after meeting Jin Tae-kyung, I came to understand. That I was not only late in that regard.
“Sal-sung. May I ask one more favor of you?”
The shift in Jeok Cheon-gang’s gaze and tone toward Moon-kyung had never been softer.
“Should the old man ever be absent, I ask that you become a steadfast shelter for that child. That you become his new master.”
A deep furrow carved itself into his previously unblemished forehead. Moon-kyung narrowed his brows, studying Jeok Cheon-gang intently.
“Do you truly mean what you just said?”
“More than ever.”
“Why on earth?”
“For the reason I stated. Time is running out.”
“What is this….”
A new master, out of nowhere. Time running out.
For Moon-kyung, who understood Jeok Cheon-gang’s condition, comprehension did not come easily.
Though his primordial essence—the source of all things—had begun to scatter and would gradually weaken, such deterioration should take years to manifest. This was far too soon.
“I make this request of you.”
“…!”
Now even his head bowed. The Fire King Jeok Cheon-gang himself—none other.
Witnessing a sight no one in the Martial World had ever seen, Moon-kyung felt himself overcome with bewilderment.
“What is the reason? Just seven days ago, surely….”
Moon-kyung’s voice trailed off mid-sentence. Swallowing his words, he found himself silently observing the ripples forming in Jeok Cheon-gang’s eyes.
And in that suffocating silence that descended in an instant, a single thought flashed through Moon-kyung’s mind.
‘Ah, so that’s what happened.’
If his suspicion was correct, every mystery would unravel.
Why Jeok Cheon-gang harbored such excessive concern. Why he had hidden himself from Jin Tae-kyung and the others.
Why the strange reactions appeared throughout their conversation.
Moon-kyung exhaled like a sigh.
“Seven days ago was…not what it seemed.”
“No, seven days was certainly seven days.”
Jeok Cheon-gang smiled bitterly and continued.
“But those seven days were only five days for me.”
Time flows equally for all, yet not all perceive that time equally.
No-hwan, the first uninvited guest to arrive before Moon-kyung, had stolen two days from Jeok Cheon-gang and fled.
“…When did it begin?”
“Sichuan.”
“Sichuan? But when I took your pulse, surely….”
“The symptoms manifested precisely after we left Sichuan. Since then, I’ve taken pains to avoid you.”
Why hide such a fact? Why at all?
The question Moon-kyung was about to ask lingered only on his tongue before fading. He already knew the answer.
How pitiful one becomes when first realizing one has grown old.
How profound the terror when awakening to the fact that one’s mind wavers under the weight of age.
At the sight of Moon-kyung’s silent, closed lips, Jeok Cheon-gang held a faint smile.
“Even had you been told, nothing would have changed. I know my body well. Though you may be the Divine Physician whose skill touches the heavens themselves, you cannot seal shut primordial essence once it begins to leak away.”
“….”
“At first, my memories grew hazy. Then one day, I realized an entire day had vanished from my recollection. I recognized the signs—I had witnessed this deterioration before.”
Thus did moments become hours, hours become days, and now entire days slip away.
Jeok Cheon-gang, growing desperate, exhausted every remedy at his disposal, yet nothing availed.
“The post-heavenly qi gained through elixirs cannot restore a balance already shattered. Only one path remained.”
“…Enlightenment.”
“Yes, enlightenment itself.”
“That is why I undertook this untimely wall-facing meditation.”
“I wished to live as Fire King Red Sky River—not as a withered elder who cannot even remember his own name, but as the patriarch of the Yeolhwa Sect and someone’s master.”
A desolate voice echoed through the cave. Water droplets gathered upon the damp ceiling and fell, bearing the semblance of an old man’s tears.

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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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