Murim Login - Chapter 578

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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 578
Crash—
The earth’s surface buckled and heaved as a tremendous wave of Mana swept across it, and the erupting snow piled into a towering wall.
And in that moment when everything turned pristine white.
Crack—
A brilliant beam of light tore through Song Cheon-woo’s sleeve and burst forth.
The slender, razor-sharp blade was a specially modified weapon—a secret technique honed for this singular, decisive strike.
‘Forgive me.’
With an apology too quiet to be heard, Song Cheon-woo moved like a flash of lightning.
Whoosh—
Lower body low. Back leg straight. Front leg bent at an angle. Power channeled through the hand gripping the weapon as I unleashed a devastating blow.
The movement flowed like water—perfected through countless attempts beyond measure—and the blade, wrapped in brilliant radiance, pierced through space itself.
Shwaaack!
A cutting sound so sharp it severed all things.
Though I had long since retired from active duty and entered my seventies, Song Cheon-woo was an undeniable force—a true master.
The senses carved into my entire body from enduring the maelstrom of the Great Cataclysm, and the formidable Mana coiled within me, defied the passage of years.
There was no way a mere boy not yet thirty could withstand my strike.
‘It’s finished.’
I was certain of it.
At least until the next moment—until the blade piercing through the wall of wind and snow was blocked by something.
Clang—
“…!”
A violent recoil transmitted through the blade. My eyes widened in shock as a thunderous roar erupted.
Crash—
Mana colliding with Mana. The resulting shockwave of blade wind tore through everything around us.
The barrier of snow crumbled, and the drifts scattered into the air.
Between them, there existed a pair of eyes—deeply sunken, profoundly focused.
“So this was it. The trap Seok Go-jun prepared.”
At the sight of Choi Min-woo receiving the strike on the flat of his blade, Song Cheon-woo let out a low chuckle.
“How did you…”
It was impossible. I clearly remembered Choi Min-woo from years ago, when he was in his early twenties staying at the European Branch.
A boy with outstanding natural talent, yet whose actual skill fell far short of his gifts.
And yet…
Clang, clang, clang—
I could tell from the force transmitted through the blade.
This young man now crossing swords with me had transcended into a true master—no longer worthy of being called a mere boy.
And a critical flaw had emerged in my plan.
‘Blood cannot lie, it seems.’
Cheon Tae-min.
The three syllables that weighed upon my heart suddenly made the blade feel heavy. But I had come too far to turn back now.
Long ago, he had crossed the river and sunk his own boat. He could not retreat—not when his bloodline was held captive by Seok Go-jun.
‘I must kill him here. Without fail.’
Song Cheon-woo’s teeth clenched. Mighty mana surged through a body that had forgotten the ravages of age, flowing like an unstoppable torrent.
As his wrist traced an arc, the blade’s razor edge glided across its own flat surface with lethal precision.
A sharp metallic screech—
It was a matter of mere millimeters. The sword’s tip grazed past Choi Min-woo’s neck, piercing the empty air beyond.
Unable to withstand the blade’s pressure, blood vessels burst from the split flesh of his neck, spraying crimson.
One figure watching this spectacle cried out in anguish.
“Young Master!”
A cry laden with sorrow, urgency, and fury.
As the figure who had closed hundreds of meters in an instant swept his sleeve, the air around them grew scorching hot.
Flames erupted in a roaring inferno—
A wall of mana-forged fire rose to block Song Cheon-woo’s path. The snow of the Snow Mountain melted and evaporated in an instant.
Within that searing heat, Song Cheon-woo could see it clearly.
Beyond Choi Min-woo’s shoulder as he retreated to steady his breath, the approaching figure of the old butler drew near.
“So you’ve come.”
Song Cheon-woo regarded Kim Butler with an unshaken gaze.
The man he had once called brother. One of the few comrades whose back he could trust in the heat of battle.
Yet for both of them, that past had become nothing but flowing water beneath the bridge.
“I resented you, but I never hated you. However….”
A fierce heat erupted.
Flames born from the void wrapped around Kim Butler’s hands, taking on a new form. Whips of fire materialized in his grasp.
Song Cheon-woo gazed upon this figure—now wielding whips of flame in both hands—with a distant, nostalgic expression.
“Now you are as you should be. You are the Kim Hwa-jong I once knew.”
Kim Butler—no, Kim Hwa-jong—gripped the whips of fire and took a step forward.
His footfall echoed across the snow.
In eyes that had always been serene, molten lava now churned and roiled.
The old butler, who had maintained unwavering loyalty through the passage of years, had now returned to the fierce visage of his youthful days.
“Shut your damn mouth, you bastard.”
“…!”
In the moment Choi Min-woo’s mouth fell open at the sight of Kim Hwa-jong as he had never seen him before—
A blade shrieked through the air, and flames roared—
Following the arc of the wielded sword, the barrier of fire that had separated the three shattered apart.
And Choi Min-woo could see it.
Song Cheon-woo’s composed face regarding them both, and around his neck—a pristine white necklace that had appeared without warning.
‘That is…’
And the name of that necklace, so hauntingly familiar, spilled from Song Cheon-woo’s lips.
“The Yeti’s Necklace. When you summoned me to this place, I thought it would surely have a purpose.”
Song Cheon-woo turned his head suddenly. Beyond the crevasse, where his gaze fell, hundreds of yetis poured down with an avalanche of snow.
“And it seems my instinct was correct this time. Would you not agree?”
– Kyaaaaaaah!
Watching hundreds of Yetis surge toward this location, Choi Min-woo felt his grip tighten involuntarily around the sword’s hilt.
‘A Yeti’s necklace.’
Both Choi Min-woo and even Kim Hwa-jong understood what function that small necklace possessed.
Just a few months ago, it was a magical artifact that Won Myung-hun had prepared at Black Wyvern’s Nest to ensnare Jin Tae-kyung.
‘The slave’s mark that draws in Dragon Clan monsters.’
There existed a hierarchy even among monsters.
The giants dwelling in the Snow Mountain, the Yetis, were slaves and prey of the Dragon Clan. However, the [Yeti’s Necklace] possessed not only the function of drawing in Dragon Clan monsters.
This necklace was both a mark signifying enslavement to the Dragon Clan, and simultaneously a badge of kinship to the Yetis.
“You…!”
Choi Min-woo’s cry toward Song Cheon-woo could not continue.
Kwaaaah! Thud-thud-thud!
An enormous avalanche. Hundreds of Yetis surged across it like riding waves, leaping over the Crevasse.
Though Song Cheon-woo stood closest, as long as he wore the necklace bearing the Yeti’s scent, he was no different from one of their own kind.
– Krrroooaaah!
The ferocious roar shook the Snowy Field.
Song Cheon-woo, who glanced briefly at the hundreds of shadows leaping over his head and charging toward the two men, opened his mouth.
“Hwa-jong. You need to stay out of this.”
“You bastard! I’d like to tear you to shreds!”
Kim Hwa-jong, spewing furious words, wielded his whip of flame.
Whoooosh! Crash!
Flames bearing tremendous heat seared across all directions and burned everything. Yet the Yetis, empowered by magical force and numbering in the hundreds, remained indifferent to the sacrifice of their kin.
Rather, they unleashed even more ferocious magical power.
– Krrroooaaaaaah!
“…!”
Overwhelmed by numbers.
Just as Kim Hwa-jong clenched his lips tightly, Choi Min-woo’s quiet voice pierced his ear.
“It’s alright, Kim Butler.”
“Young Master!”
“In fact, with the Yetis here, my fight would only become more difficult.”
“But…!”
“Go. I’ll handle this place.”
Kim Hwa-jong, about to protest, hesitated.
For a brief moment, the old butler gazed into Choi Min-woo’s unwavering eyes, then silently pushed off the ground.
The whip of flame wielded in both hands lured hundreds of Yetis away.
Kwakwakwang!
– Kyaaaah!
With the heat, hundreds of Yetis receded into the distance. Simultaneously, Song Cheon-woo took a step forward.
Crunch. Treading through the snow, Song Cheon-woo’s hand blurred as he advanced. A sword wrapped in dazzling aura tore through all directions.
Shuwhaaaack! Crackle!
Aura is the quintessence of mana’s true power.
Razor-sharp and devastatingly destructive energy surged forth with tremendous force, cleaving through space itself. Wind, snow, and stone—nothing could stand against it.
There was only one way to counter it: another aura.
Slash! Crunch!
Skin split open and blood sprayed as the blade struck relentlessly from all directions.
Choi Min-woo’s eyes darkened as he barely evaded the crisscrossing arcs of light. His grip on the sword hilt tightened.
Whoooosh.
[Hero’s Soul]. The blade left by a noble hero vibrated with power.
A pristine white aura, reminiscent of the Snow Mountain itself, coiled around the blade and surged upward. Choi Min-woo’s upper body rotated smoothly as he gripped the sword firmly with both hands.
Whiiiing.
Aura against aura. Light against light.
The moment the two differently-colored flashes collided.
Boom!
A tremendous shockwave shook the Snow Mountain. Snow within a radius of dozens of meters turned to powder and scattered into the air.
And through the space now blanketed entirely in white, two pale silhouettes crossed paths.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
Crash! Boom!
Two figures. Two blades. Auras belonging to different masters collided across the space.
Each collision unleashed tremendous shockwaves that pushed away the snow and overturned the ground.
On the dark gray bedrock finally exposed after so long, a drop of crimson liquid fell.
Drip.
Choi Min-woo felt the warm blood flowing down his wrist. His shoulder throbbed, and cold sweat that had formed on his brow brushed against his eyebrows.
But there was no time to stop the bleeding or wipe away the sweat.
His opponent continued to unleash murderous blade strikes without pause.
Whiiiing! Crunch!
By the narrowest of margins, the solid stone ground was cleaved like tofu.
Choi Min-woo barely dodged the attack and exhaled sharply. The face of his opponent, radiating killing intent so intense it made his entire body prickle, came into view.
‘Song Cheon-woo.’
A hero born from the Great Cataclysm and once counted among the greatest Hunters alongside Lee Jung-yong—his skill was truly terrifying.
It was one of the reasons he had survived despite knowing a truth that should never have been revealed.
Whiiiing!
As Choi Min-woo twisted his head, his hair scattered with a fierce wind. Had he been even slightly slower, it wouldn’t have been his hair that was severed, but his neck.
But why was it? Why didn’t he feel the fear of death he had experienced in Sichuan?
Heh.
A faint laugh escaped him. He suddenly remembered a conversation he’d had long ago with someone who wasn’t here.
‘I know it sounds a bit crazy, but sometimes I laugh when I’m in situations where I feel like I’m about to die.’
‘You’re quite mad.’
‘But… when I laugh, strangely enough, I always seem to win.’
He didn’t know why that casual conversation from that day came to mind now, in a situation like this.
But now Choi Min-woo finally understood, at least in part, what he had meant.
‘I will not die.’
It was faith in myself, and the will that only those who never surrender until the end could possess.
That was the realization Choi Min-woo had made his own when he walked toward thousands of monsters with a weary, wounded body.
Whoosh, crack!
A burning pain erupted from my thigh.
In that instant, Song Cheon-woo’s movements intensified as Choi Min-woo’s body wavered.
Whish, whish, whish, crack! Crack!
This time it was my arm.
Thud!
Next came my side.
Yet Choi Min-woo pressed forward, enduring the pain.
Meeting the barrage of sword strikes head-on, stepping forward relentlessly one pace after another, a single blade trembled in his hands.
Hummmmm.
[Hero’s Soul]. A sword passed down to him from a hero who had fulfilled his mission even as a vengeful spirit.
A legendary blade that granted greater power to those worthy of it.
Whoooooosh!
The blade sang with vibration. Brilliant radiance swelled the aura around it.
At that immense light, Song Cheon-woo’s eyes flew wide open.
“You…!”
“One last thing, I wish to ask.”
Unlike his cold gaze, his voice burned with heat.
Choi Min-woo unleashed a final strike, pouring every ounce of his strength into it.
“Have you forgotten whose blood flows through my veins?”
“…!”
Shiiing!
A colossal beam of light tore through space.
And within that blinding flash that obscured all before it, Song Cheon-woo felt a single bolt of lightning searing across his chest.
Crack!

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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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