Murim Login - Chapter 522

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 522
Damn it. Mountains upon mountains.
It felt like I’d been struck hard from behind without warning.
While nothing in this world is absolute, I’d thought the matter in Hubei had been resolved cleanly enough….
‘The influence of demonic energy wasn’t limited to the Water Dragon alone.’
Had a Gate opened elsewhere? Or had demonic energy that the Water Dragon failed to completely absorb leaked out and affected something else entirely?
Staring at the drawing, my mouth felt gritty, as though I were chewing sand.
I wasn’t the only one who grasped the gravity of the situation.
“What in the world is that?”
“One thing seems certain. It’s something that cannot be called human.”
At the murmurs of Byuk Ryuk Do-wang and Chang Cheon Geom-wang, the two elder masters, Mae Jong-hak finally spoke.
“According to word from the Wudang Sect, that strange entity is supposedly the true identity of Sal-gwi, who has been wreaking havoc throughout Hubei in recent times.”
“Sal-gwi?”
Jeok Cheon-gang’s eyes narrowed, his gaze turning toward me. Catching the meaning in his eyes, I nodded.
“It’s likely the one you know.”
“Hell. The lamp at the base casts no light, as they say.”
That’s right. Exactly as the saying goes—the area nearest the light remains darkest.
But in this case, there was no way we could have known. The lamp’s flame burned too brightly for our eyes to open properly.
Hundreds were dying across Hubei Province even as we spoke, so it would have been strange to focus attention on Sal-gwi, whom the Wudang Sect was already pursuing.
Especially if the true identity of the monster now revealed was a Water Dragon driven mad by demonic energy.
‘There was no time to concern ourselves with that.’
Another monster—yes, a Monster—had appeared, something I hadn’t anticipated.
The identity of Sal-gwi that I’d been assuming was nothing more than a madman common to the Murim, nothing more and nothing less.
‘But what kind of monster is this thing, really?’
The drawings of this era were at best what you’d see in history textbooks. The same applied to the images drawn on bamboo strips.
There were traces of effort to render it as faithfully as possible, but it fell clearly short in several respects, including dimensionality.
There was only one thing discernible from the drawing.
Just as Chang Cheon Geom-wang said—it was something other than human.
A horn jutting sharply from the center of its forehead, and limbs that were unnaturally long and thick.
The crimson eyes, the only part rendered in color, were of a kind that couldn’t be explained by the four characters “Demonic Heretical Way.”
‘It’s definitely a monster. Was it transformed by demonic energy like the Water Dragon?’
Tap. Tap.
I asked, nervously tapping my fingers against the wall.
“Are there no other drawings?”
Cheon Myeon Ho-ri, who had been observing me intently, nodded.
“Unfortunately not. That was the best the Wudang Sect could manage.”
“That’s a shame. But I suspect this isn’t everything.”
“You’re perceptive. Two days ago, a second letter arrived from the Wudang Sect.”
At Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s gesture, the middle-aged scribe grasped the ring once more.
Whoosh. Thunk!
An elliptical wooden box descended along the rounded tube, and what emerged from within was a single letter densely covered in characters.
“Read it yourself. You were at the center of the incident that unfolded in Hubei, so you might discover something that I and the Shadow Pavilion failed to grasp.”
“I was already planning to do so.”
“Why don’t you read it together with me as well.”
Jeok Cheon-gang and I leaned our heads together and read through the letter.
Once was not enough, so I read it twice, three times, and only after a considerable time passed did I tear my eyes from the letter.
“What do you make of it?”
At Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s question, Jeok Cheon-gang furrowed his brow.
“I’m not sure.”
“I see.”
“…Why aren’t you asking more?”
Well, I hadn’t held much hope from the start anyway.
But I had nothing particular to say either. Based on what was written in the letter, Cheon Myeon Ho-ri and the Shadow Pavilion must have already grasped the circumstances of how that monster came to appear.
“Now that you’ve seen the letter, you’ll understand—this monster was originally a fisherman living at the Yangtze River Estuary.”
I pointed to the first line of the letter and continued.
“His name was Jang Sam. According to the records, he was in his fifties and had a family.”
Even the Wudang Sect hadn’t believed this monster simply fell from the heavens.
After carefully examining the corpse of the dead monster, they discovered several distinctive characteristics.
And immediately based on these findings, they launched an investigation and uncovered that the monster’s true identity was a fisherman who lived in a village less than a hundred li away from Wudang Mountain.
“He went out alone to fish less than a month ago and vanished without a trace. When he didn’t show himself even after considerable time had passed, his children filed a petition with the local magistrate.”
The magistrate’s office would have been unable to find him.
While deaths among fishermen were not common, they occurred often enough, and Hubei Province at that time was gripped in fear and chaos from successive incidents.
When nobles were dying left and right like minions in some gorge, who would have spared a thought for a mere fisherman?
‘Even if they had tried to search actively, it would have been impossible anyway.’
Even the masters of the Wudang Sect had to expend considerable time to capture Jang Sam. In such circumstances, any effort by the magistrate’s office would have yielded nothing.
But what deserved far greater attention than such circumstances was how an elderly fisherman—one of the countless common folk like Jang Sam and Li Si—had somehow become a hideous monster called Sal-gwi.
“Do you have any suspicions about what caused this transformation?”
At Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s question, I opened my mouth.
“I suspect the blood fish is the most likely culprit.”
“I’ve already heard reports about the blood fish. In fact, I’ve already dispatched several Shadow Pavilion agents to Hubei with orders to capture a living blood fish.”
“Well done. The monster—or rather, Jang Sam—was originally a fisherman, and the tributaries of Dongting Lake and the Yangtze River are connected, so….”
Mae Jong-hak, who had been listening quietly, murmured thoughtfully.
“It’s possible that Jang Sam consumed a blood fish that flowed down through those tributaries.”
“Or perhaps it consumed him.”
“…!”
“…!”
“In any case, I believe that possibility is the most likely at present. The grotesque appearance and the reason he could evade the Wudang Sect’s pursuit for several days was surely because he had grown stronger from it.”
Then Cheon Myeon Ho-ri added with a hardened expression.
“What’s your assessment of the possibility that similar incidents have occurred elsewhere, like the water demon you defeated? That thing called a ‘Rift’.”
“….”
“Tell me. I wanted to hear it directly from you.”
In our terminology, we call it a Rift. In other words, a Gate.
I have given this matter considerable thought.
But the very prospect of such a scenario unfolding is something I’d rather not contemplate, let alone speak aloud.
I don’t put stock in superstitions, but there’s truth to the saying that words have power—I simply wish to exclude even the slightest possibility.
Yet I couldn’t evade an answer. I opened my mouth with an uncomfortable expression.
“I cannot say with certainty, but regarding what you’re thinking, I believe the likelihood is quite slim.”
“And your reasoning?”
“If the same thing had occurred, it wouldn’t have ended at merely this.”
A second Gate has not yet opened. That is my conclusion.
It should have been a relief, but the expressions of those of us who already knew the situation were far from bright.
We had grasped the true meaning beneath my words.
To put it plainly, it was this.
The only reason we’re not destroyed is because it hasn’t opened yet. If another Gate tears open, we’re truly finished.
“A powder magazine. Truly, a powder magazine of the highest order.”
The murmur that escaped from between Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s lips.
A powder magazine remains safe so long as no flame touches it. But that also means it becomes the most dangerous thing imaginable the moment someone sets it ablaze.
One wonders what madman would attempt such a thing, but unfortunately, the madmen of Dark Heaven have already set fire to Hubei Province’s powder magazine once before.
The current Murim is nothing less than a colossal powder magazine on the verge of detonation.
And the second and third Gates will be the massive sparks that ignite it.
‘There is one saving grace, at least.’
I don’t know what the true nature of the Heavenly Master is, nor do I understand the method by which the Nantian Demon Empress opened the Gate.
But one thing I could surmise.
‘Opening a Gate is not an easy task for them either.’
A Gate is not an inn door, after all. If they could tear them open at will, the entire Murim would have descended into utter chaos long ago.
Orcs would be founding sects, and Lycanthropes and Ogres would be strolling arm-in-arm down the Main Road of Hanan.
Before the Martial Alliance was even established, there would be confusion and collapse—”What the hell are those things?”—and everything would scatter to the winds.
But Dark Heaven did not do this.
Why? Because it’s difficult.
Which is precisely why we must act with greater urgency. We had to stop them before another powder magazine detonated.
And the second stroke of fortune is that this vast collective, united beneath the banner of the Martial Alliance, possesses more than sufficient capability to do so.
“…Calamity has befallen Murim. Far greater than I had anticipated.”
Toward Mae Jong-hak, who murmured as though sighing, Cheon Myeon Ho-ri opened his mouth with a face hardened like stone.
“There is something we must investigate at once. Alliance Leader, if I may be so bold, would you and the others move to another location?”
“Very well.”
“I am grateful. I shall report further in due course. Until our next meeting, then.”
Those were Cheon Myeon Ho-ri’s final words.
Before they had even left the Pavilion, urgent cries erupted from all quarters, and those who had been worn with exhaustion suddenly snapped their eyes wide open and began moving according to his orders.
The Shadow Pavilion, which had maintained its operations even after the dissolution of the Martial Alliance, had begun to move once more.
And it was not only they who grew busy.
“I should head out as well. There will be mountains of matters demanding my attention soon.”
Chang Cheon Geom-wang nodded at Mae Jong-hak’s words.
“I find myself in the same position. Would it be acceptable if I were to share what I heard here today with my incompetent son?”
“Have you forgotten who brought you to this place?”
Had this been information that should not reach anyone’s ears, the Martial Alliance Lord and the Shadow Pavilion Lord would never have led you here in the first place.
Understanding the meaning behind Mae Jong-hak’s words, Chang Cheon Geom-wang cupped his fist in salute.
“My gratitude.”
“You will learn of it in a few days. Until then, however, take care that word does not leak out.”
“Of course. I shall keep it in mind.”
Byuk Ryuk Do-wang, having grasped the gravity of the situation, opened his mouth with a rigid expression.
“Listen here, Sword Saint. I have something I wish to ask as well.”
“The Hebei Peng Family feels the same. There is no harm in telling us——”
“No, not that. What in the world were you all discussing in there?”
“….”
“….”
Is the Hebei Peng Family’s patriarch truly this intellectually deficient? My chest swells with indignation….
As everyone, myself included, sent him a cold stare, Byuk Ryuk Do-wang mumbled as if making excuses.
“Surely you could discuss matters that someone like me could actually comprehend. I understand well enough that a great calamity has befallen the Murim….”
“Peng.”
“What?”
“Then be quiet for a moment. In this old man’s view, that would be the greatest help.”
“What did you say!”
Jeok Cheon-gang heaved a deep sigh toward Byuk Ryuk Do-wang before turning his gaze to Mae Jong-hak.
“I shall take responsibility for this foolish old man, so please depart. You must be busy.”
“My thanks. By the way, Jeok Dae-hyup.”
“Speak.”
Mae Jong-hak grasped Jeok Cheon-gang’s hand firmly and continued.
“Have you truly no intention of becoming the Alliance Lord?”
“….”
“….”
Be honest with me. You and Chung Poong share the same blood.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————