Murim Login - Chapter 513

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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 513
Xiaxia, Henan Province, where the tributaries of the Yangtze River converged, was once again teeming with countless souls.
The Ferry Dock overflowed with vessels both large and small, while merchants stacked with wares haggled fiercely, their eyes ablaze with mercantile fervor.
“Come now, cheap, cheap! Musk for vigor—just one silver tael!”
“I don’t need such things.”
“You there, fair maiden passing by! Surely you require a mirror!”
“I’m not buying.”
“…Damn these stubborn fools.”
Market Street reverberated with cacophonous noise.
Yet the true character of any place is ultimately determined by the nature of those who gather there.
In this sense, the Merchant who habitually accosted a young martial artist passing through at that moment had chosen his mark poorly.
“Pardon me, sir. I perceive you to be a Martial World swordsman bound for Songshan. Surely you require well-honed weapons—… Gasp!”
The Merchant, mid-sentence with practiced eloquence, swallowed hard.
The handsome visage that had first captured his attention now faded from his awareness entirely.
The moment he beheld the three characters and dragon emblem embroidered in black thread upon the young martial artist’s deep blue silk robe, the Merchant involuntarily uttered a cry of anguish.
“The, the Black Dragon Demon Gate!”
“…!”
Though the exclamation was not particularly loud, those four characters—Black Dragon Demon Gate—proved sufficient to plunge the bustling thoroughfare into an abyss of silence in an instant.
“The Black Dragon Demon Gate, you say.”
“Unmistakably so. Those heretical dogs who have been wreaking havoc across Gansu Province.”
“I heard rumors they arrived in Henan only recently… Could it be for initiation into the alliance?”
Silence spread like wildfire.
The merchants who had been shouting at the top of their lungs, the common folk wandering nearby, and even the martial artists who had been moving in armed groups—
All ceased their activities and fixed their gaze upon the source of the cry.
And beneath the scrutiny of countless eyes, the young martial artist of the Black Dragon Demon Gate smiled faintly at the Merchant.
“For a Merchant, your eye for detail is quite keen. To recognize even the insignia of our Main Sect.”
“That is to say….”
“You seem to have little connection to the Martial World. Are you originally from Gansu, perhaps? Or have you merely picked up idle gossip from the third-rate swordsmen you’ve taken as customers?”
The young martial artist cast a disdainful glance at the various weapons neatly displayed on the Merchant’s stall beyond his shoulder, then clicked his tongue.
“All worthless trash, even if bundled together. Come now, show me your finest piece.”
“Y, yes?”
“I forgot you were merely a Merchant. Then, not your finest, but your most expensive—that will do.”
“Ah, understood.”
With trembling hands, the Merchant retrieved an iron chest from its place in the deepest recesses and opened it.
Upon glimpsing the solitary sword resting within, bereft of even a proper scabbard, the young martial artist let out a low whistle.
“Ho, this hardly seems the sort of treasure one would expect to find in such a place.”
Those observing the two men, particularly the martial artists, found themselves unconsciously nodding in agreement at the young warrior’s words.
Though the blade appeared considerably aged, its steel gleamed with an iridescent five-colored radiance, and its edge remained sharp and undiminished.
A weapon worthy of being called a legendary sword.
The Merchant, sensing the glint of covetousness awakening in the eyes of several martial artists, shrank his shoulders in apprehension.
“It was passed down to me by my late father.”
“Was your father a martial artist?”
“Oh, no, that couldn’t be. It’s just that through some twist of fate, he came to possess this blade, and he only instructed me to keep it secret and pass it down through the generations as a family heirloom.”
“That makes sense. A sword of this caliber would attract no shortage of covetous eyes.”
Excessive greed begets bloodshed.
Most martial artists in the Murim would choose to seize a renowned blade by force rather than pay hundreds of silver taels to acquire it.
After all, brandishing a cheap iron sword was far more effective than scraping together enough silver to purchase a masterwork.
“Your father must have been a wise man indeed.”
“Yes, yes he was.”
“Yet it seems you did not inherit his wisdom. Displaying such an object so readily suggests otherwise.”
“That is… that is…”
The young martial artist let out a soft chuckle at the sight of the merchant struggling for words.
He had already seen through exactly what the merchant could not bring himself to say.
The man before him was a heterodox martial artist of the Black Dragon Demon Gate.
With a blade pressed to his throat, he had no time for deliberation. The fear that producing the wrong item might cost him his head had paralyzed his judgment entirely.
Though this was the merchant’s first such ordeal, it was a familiar situation for the young martial artist.
“I understand. Most who face me think and act as you do.”
The young martial artist swept his gaze over the merchant, who stood silent as a mute, and continued speaking.
“So I shall save you from this predicament.”
Doubt flickered across the merchant’s eyes.
“Save me… how do you mean?”
“I mean I shall pay for it and take it with me.”
“Ah!”
The merchant’s face brightened instantly.
His heart had been burning with anxiety until that very moment.
He had produced the item to save his life, but many had already laid eyes upon the renowned blade.
Once this young martial artist departed, rootless bandits and petty thieves would surely catch wind and converge upon him.
But if this man purchased the blade, everything would be resolved.
Of course, there would be those who coveted the silver he received as payment, so he would need to leave the area soon. Yet he could preserve his life and secure substantial wealth, allowing him to live in comfort elsewhere.
Having calculated his fortune, the merchant bowed deeply at once.
“If you would do this for me, honored master, I could ask for nothing more!”
“You’re no fool, at least.”
The young martial artist chuckled softly and tossed a money pouch onto the stall.
It landed with a heavy metallic clink. The merchant opened the pouch and blinked.
“Honored master, this is…”
The young martial artist, who had been examining the blade from the iron chest, cast a glance his way.
“What is it?”
“It’s just… I believe you may have miscalculated the amount.”
“Miscalculated?”
The merchant swallowed hard as the young martial artist tilted his head in confusion.
However, the fine sword he had inherited was not only a family heirloom but also worth easily several hundred silver taels by any reasonable valuation.
In comparison, the amount contained in the money pouch was absurdly insufficient.
“Ah, I’m afraid twenty silver taels simply won’t….”
“Well, I see it differently.”
“Yes, yes?”
“That should be more than enough. I’ve deducted the price of your life.”
At the young martial artist’s voice, which had grown cold in an instant, the air around them froze with a chilling presence.
The common folk who had been watching the situation with expressions mingling curiosity and fear trembled, while the neighboring merchants who had shared hardships together deliberately averted their gaze.
Yet not everyone present reacted the same way.
“The Black Dragon Demon Gate certainly wields impressive authority. To see even a wet-behind-the-ears brat in their colors throwing his weight around like this.”
With a rough voice, the crowd parted left and right. A middle-aged man who emerged from between them flashed yellowed teeth at the young martial artist with a sneer.
“I won’t waste words. Lower that sword in your hand quietly and get out of here.”
The young martial artist blinked.
“Are you speaking to me?”
“Well now, look at this one. Who else would I be speaking to?”
“Ah, please don’t misunderstand. I certainly heard you correctly….”
The young martial artist, having appraised the middle-aged man from head to toe, continued slowly.
“I simply never imagined someone like you could speak so boldly.”
“…Like me? Boldly?”
For just a moment, the middle-aged man stared blankly at the young martial artist before bursting into raucous laughter.
“Like me, is it? Hahahaha! This one has quite the talent for making people laugh.”
“How curious. No one in Gansu Province ever mentioned I possessed such a talent.”
“Well then, what is your name?”
“I have neither reason nor inclination to tell you. Now go on your way.”
“Your expression seems off. Have you taken fright?”
“Not quite… Rather, conversing with someone like you is simply quite unpleasant.”
“Heh heh.”
Though his mouth produced laughter, the middle-aged man’s eyes gleamed with an ominous light.
And just as his arm, rippling with explosive muscle and covered in countless scars, began to move, the young martial artist suddenly spoke.
“That’s enough, Blood Cudgel.”
“…!”
The middle-aged man who had heard his epithet, Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho, felt his body stiffen.
Moreover, the martial artists observing the confrontation between the two could not hide their astonishment.
Information about Blood Cudgel was fairly well-known, so it was not difficult to deduce his identity from the middle-aged man’s appearance and the crimson cudgel hanging at his waist.
The greatest reason for their shock was the young martial artist’s demeanor.
A mere youngster in Black Dragon Demon Gate garb. Speaking and conducting himself as though looking down upon Blood Cudgel, an outstanding master of the highest caliber.
And Blood Cudgel himself sensed something was amiss.
“You… knew of me?”
“I’ve heard of you. That you’re the sort who would lick a beggar’s backside for silver taels.”
“…!”
His tone had shifted, his words now dripping with contempt.
The young martial artist spoke slowly to Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho, whose eyes blazed with fury.
“Now that we’ve met, it seems what I’ve heard about you is true. Shall I make you a proposal?”
“A… proposal?”
“Lick my foot, and I’ll give you silver. Do that, and I’ll let you live.”
“You… how dare you!”
Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho’s body trembled with rage.
He was a supreme master possessed of martial prowess that no one could dismiss. He wanted nothing more than to rush forward and crush that brat’s skull.
Yet the four characters of the Black Dragon Demon Gate held his feet in place.
Such composure at such a young age. A premonition seized him—if a life-and-death struggle erupted now, it would not end well for him.
“…Damn it.”
As Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho lowered the spear he had half-raised, the young martial artist smiled faintly.
“Silver seems to suit your taste. Shall we proceed to you licking my foot?”
“Silence, you wretch!”
A shout infused with profound martial power lashed across the surroundings.
Third-rate martial artists, still lacking in skill, stumbled backward with groans, while terrified commoners shrieked in panic.
Amid such chaos, Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho glared at the young martial artist with bloodshot eyes.
“I know not what station you hold, but mark my words—you will surely come to regret what you do this day.”
The young martial artist clicked his tongue softly.
“You seem quite angry. But I think it best you stop here.”
“I am Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho! I may forget kindness, but I never forget a grudge. Though I retreat today, the next time we meet shall be the day of your memorial rites…”
Crack!
Blood sprayed in all directions.
The young martial artist exhaled as he gazed upon Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho’s corpse, its head crushed and lifeless.
“I had hoped to avoid bloodshed. Perhaps I should have shown more restraint.”
When had he appeared?
The Eight-foot Tall Man, who had wielded an enormous cudgel to shatter Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho’s skull, responded in a halting voice.
“Dared to insult the young master. Cannot endure such disrespect.”
“Well, Blood Cudgel Do Sang-ho was hardly worth mentioning. Hardly worthy of being called Orthodox Sect.”
Just as the young martial artist clicked his tongue softly, people who had belatedly grasped the situation began scattering in all directions with screams.
“A… a man is dead!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
“This is madness…!”
In the very moment when martial artists stood frozen by the sudden turn of events, the young martial artist noticed something beyond the fleeing masses and murmured to himself.
“There it is. I knew trouble would arise.”
Following his gaze, a group of monks in yellow robes was approaching from that direction.
“Shaolin Temple…”

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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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