Murim Login - Chapter 521

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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 521
“Since we’re on good terms, I’ll ask—would you have any interest in becoming the Alliance Leader?”
“…?”
“…?”
It was only natural that the team members would be shaken when their team leader suddenly suggested abandoning the project.
Mae Jong-hak’s words deviated so far from expectation that Byuk Ryuk Do-wang’s mouth fell open, while Chang Cheon Geom-wang and Mu-myeong stared at him with eyes wide in shock.
‘What does being on good terms have to do with that…?’
‘This bastard as the Martial Alliance Leader.’
They didn’t say it, but their expressions screamed exactly that.
In that moment, the final person, Jeok Cheon-gang, opened his mouth with a surprisingly composed expression.
“An ordinary person would struggle to continue speaking in such circumstances. But I am different. I have encountered far too many madmen of late.”
The instant our eyes met, I turned to look behind me.
Whether by extraordinary coincidence or not, there was no one there—save for a single sparrow pecking at something on the ground.
Ah, I see now. I finally understood why Jeok Cheon-gang was looking in this direction.
“I didn’t know you were fond of birds. Though I suppose sparrows are rather endearing.”
“I was looking at you.”
“Me? Why suddenly?”
“Do you ask because you don’t know?”
“Usually one asks because they don’t know. If I knew, why would I ask?”
“Watching that mouth of yours run so merrily makes me want to bury you.”
Well, that would be rather inconvenient.
Lost in thought for a moment, I asked with a dubious expression.
“This is purely hypothetical, you understand—just in case—but is my name perhaps among those madmen you mentioned?”
“Absolutely, without question, beyond any doubt—your name stands at the very front of the list.”
“….”
During my school days, I’d finished second many times, but this was my first time at the top.
To rank first like this was truly delightful…or rather, it was absurd.
‘Of all people, to hear such words from Jeok Cheon-gang. And ranked even higher than Chung Poong.’
The mental damage made my vision swim. I fixed my gaze on Jeok Cheon-gang and spoke.
“I have an acquaintance named Tess Elder Brother. He once told me: know thyself.”
“Are you saying that to me?”
“Do you ask because you don’t know?”
“You insolent….”
The half-raised fist paused. Feeling the gazes of those gathering around us, Jeok Cheon-gang let out a groan and turned toward Mae Jong-hak.
“In any case, to give you a straight answer—I refuse.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s too bothersome.”
The answer was masterful. One might have expected at least some temptation, yet he rejected the position of Martial Alliance Leader simply because it was troublesome.
“Heh, an undeniable truth indeed.”
“….”
This is even more masterful. Please, don’t agree. Don’t you see people quietly gathering around us?
‘We’re done for.’
If this conversation spreads, the group project—the Martial Alliance itself—might fall apart. An ominous thought began creeping into my mind.
But unfortunately, the two masterminds facing each other were real men who cared nothing for such concerns.
“Such titles don’t suit my temperament, and I dislike dealing with people.”
“Ah. I feel the same way.”
“Then why not abandon it?”
“That would be difficult.”
“And why is that?”
Mae Jong-hak scratched his chin and spoke bluntly.
“Because someone must do what needs to be done.”
“…!”
A man who simply loved martial arts and took up the sword, earning the epithet Sword Saint.
A true martial artist who, at the end of a devastating war, turned his back on wealth and glory, choosing to become a recluse and return to the mountains.
Yet before being a martial artist, Sword Saint Mae Jong-hak was a great hero.
His acceptance of the title Alliance Leader stemmed not from shallow ambition.
He was both a martial artist and a great hero.
‘Because someone must do what needs to be done.’
Brief words, yet resonant with depth. Jeok Cheon-gang, who had been staring intently at Mae Jong-hak, let out a soft chuckle.
“Many years have passed, yet you remain unchanged. It feels as though that day we met on Jiuhua Mountain was yesterday.”
Mae Jong-hak’s eyes widened.
“Yesterday? What are you talking about? That was easily decades ago.”
“….”
“….”
Give back my emotion, you bastard.
I wasn’t the only one who felt a sudden sense of injustice. Mae Jong-hak tilted his head at the sharp gazes pouring down from the gathering crowd.
“Have I misremembered?”
Jeok Cheon-gang muttered, all trace of laughter gone from his face.
“…You really haven’t changed. It feels like my organs are being torn apart.”
“Are you still unwell? I heard your addiction was completely cured.”
“Close that mouth of yours. If you keep talking, I don’t know what this old man might do.”
“Now that I think about it, you were the first to speak to me that way, Great Hero Jeok. That’s why I like Great Hero Jeok so much.”
“…Chung Poong, is he really just your disciple? You’re not connected by blood?”
This is truly a question worthy of being counted among the seven great mysteries of the Martial World.
It was just as everyone, including myself, waited with pounding hearts for Mae Jong-hak’s answer.
“To the best of my knowledge, there is no blood relation between the Alliance Leader and the Water Dragon.”
An elderly voice came from behind. An old man with a wooden leg, limping forward, had a familiar face.
‘Cheon Myeon Ho-ri Song Ho.’
The former Shadow Pavilion Master of the Martial Alliance, now returned as the Shadow Pavilion Master of the new Martial Alliance, bowed slightly and spoke.
“Please come upstairs. Refreshments have been prepared.”
* * *
The Martial Alliance was teeming with people.
Those bearing the character for “Alliance” embroidered in silver thread across their chests moved about in every direction, and among them were not only martial artists carrying weapons but also a considerable number dressed in the refined garb of scholars and administrators.
‘Those people….’
The title of Shadow Pavilion Director was certainly not earned by mere chance.
As if immediately grasping the question in my gaze, Cheon Myeon Ho-ri walking beside me offered a brief explanation.
“They belong directly to the Alliance Leader’s Office.”
“They don’t seem to be from the Nine Major Sects and One Alliance or the Five Great Families.”
“You’ve observed well. Since they serve directly under the Alliance Leader’s Office, they carefully select only those whose identities are verified and who don’t belong to other sects—all to maintain confidentiality. Come this way.”
The interior of the Martial Alliance was as vast as a plain yet as labyrinthine as a maze.
Wherever I turned my head, buildings like Pavilions stood densely packed, and from the Training Ground visible in the distance, shouts of martial spirit echoed across the grounds.
When I first descended from the carriage, I thought we were in the inner city proper, but as we ventured deeper, the security grew more stringent and the number of visible people noticeably dwindled.
‘Or rather, it would be more accurate to say they’re invisible.’
No matter how they suppress their breathing or deploy advanced concealment techniques, I sense them.
Along the walls. Above the ceiling. The gazes of those hiding their bodies in shadow, watching this place, and the auras they emanate.
“I’ve been curious since earlier—are they from the Shadow Pavilion?”
At my sudden question, Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s eyes widened slightly.
“How long have you known?”
“Since we passed the fifth gate.”
“Can you still sense them now?”
“Yes.”
“Remarkable. Truly remarkable. Those four are Assassins trained within the Shadow Pavilion itself, yet you’ve perfectly grasped their presence.”
At Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s exclamation, I scratched my chin.
“Are you genuinely unaware, or is this a test?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“If it’s a test, it’s not very amusing. It’s not four—it’s five.”
Whoosh.
The torch hanging on the wall flickered slightly before settling into stillness.
It was the only evidence of the Shadow Pavilion operatives’ agitation hidden nearby, and the eyes of their leader, Cheon Myeon Ho-ri, grew deeply shadowed.
“I suspected as much, but it wasn’t mere coincidence.”
“Actually, I was guessing.”
….
“I was joking. Your subordinates are all quite skilled. I nearly missed them entirely.”
A flash of light crossed Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s pupils.
Unlike the testing gaze from moments before, this light carried genuine admiration and curiosity.
“Truly astounding. Regarding your martial prowess, I believed I had predicted it fairly accurately based on the intelligence gathered thus far… Have you recently achieved a new enlightenment?”
Enlightenment, he called it.
I nodded, recalling the ten days of training drifting along the Yangtze River.
The greatest gain from the training Moon-kyung had prescribed was undoubtedly the ability to manipulate qi—the very source of martial power—with far greater precision than before.
If I had once wielded a rope, now I could manipulate thread.
In this way, my understanding of how to utilize my martial power naturally improved, and my energy perception naturally became sharper as well.
“Perhaps, a little.”
“A terrifying growth rate. It’s almost unbelievable.”
At Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s words, Byuk Ryuk Do-wang, who had been glancing at me since earlier, muttered under his breath.
“Indeed… In all my years of living, I’ve never seen a monster like you before. You’ll make for a fine rival to my grandson.”
“Your grandson’s name is?”
“Paeng Do-jin.”
“Paeng Do-jin? Certainly a good starter choice. Cute, too.”
“What nonsense are you spouting! Paeng Do-jin, Paeng Do-jin! The one who fought you fiercely during the Seonglae Tournament!”
At Byuk Ryuk Do-wang’s cry, Jeok Cheon-gang, who had been shuffling along like a back-alley ruffian, kindly added an explanation.
“The one who got beaten like a dog for a while before surrendering to you. He was around twenty years old then.”
“Ah, now I remember. At the end, he was using the Way as a walking staff.”
“This, this…!”
“It’s fine. When you’re young, it’s natural to win some and lose some here and there.”
Jeok Cheon-gang received my words with a bright face, like a little girl receiving a Christmas gift.
“The Peng Family. That remains true even as you age, so don’t get your hopes too high. No matter what you do, you’ll just grow old and die without ever reaching the level of your grandfather’s Half-Step Heavenly Immortal Technique.”
“This damned…!”
“Ahem.”
No matter how I thought about it, the greatest victim in this situation was Chang Cheon Geom-wang.
Even without saying anything, the damage coming in steadily made the old swordsman’s eyes twitch beneath them.
Mae Jong-hak’s next remark was the final nail in the coffin.
“Don’t all be so impatient. These things happen naturally if you just keep at it.”
“…!”
“…!”
That’s nonsense.
If the Half-Step Heavenly Immortal Technique happened naturally, half of all martial artists in the world would have mastered it.
Byuk Ryuk Do-wang and Chang Cheon Geom-wang. When the two of them couldn’t even get angry at Mae Jong-hak’s words, which contained not a shred of malice, and closed their mouths, a pavilion—the largest and tallest one I’d seen in the Martial Alliance so far—came into view.
“Let us enter.”
At first, I thought it was where the Alliance Leader resided, or something like that.
But that assumption was proven wrong before we even opened the door.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
“A letter has arrived from Jiangsu!”
“What’s the rank?”
“Earth rank.”
“Organize the related matters and transfer them. Sao-ping, Hwang So, and Jang Il—get reports submitted within one hour.”
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
People moving busily about. Bamboo slips and documents traveling through mysterious cylindrical conduits woven complexly throughout the pavilion.
Cheon Myeon Ho-ri, who had been observing all this chaotic activity intently, opened his lips.
“Hubei, Wudang, Heaven rank.”
Upon hearing the brief string of words, someone in scholar’s robes pulled a ring.
And in the next moment.
Whoosh! Thunk!
A single bamboo slip that had fallen along the cylinder lying beside him unfurled.
“This is the reason I’ve gathered you all here. An urgent dispatch that arrived from the Wudang Sect in Hubei five days ago.”
His words didn’t even reach my ears.
I stared intently at what was written on the bamboo slip—no, at the image drawn upon it—and muttered inwardly.
‘The Water Dragon wasn’t everything.’
Something unidentifiable, sketched in black ink.
It was a creature both unfamiliar to some and hauntingly familiar to others.

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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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