Murim Login - Chapter 626
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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 626
“Palace Master. Might I have a word with you?”
A low, clipped voice filtered through the narrow gap of the closed door.
Everyone reflexively turned their heads toward the door behind us, but I did not miss the subtle shift that occurred in that fleeting moment.
‘Beast King Miao Wang. And Ya-ryul Mok.’
We outsiders are merely stones that have rolled in by chance, but they are embedded in the Southern Wilderness—essential as the very core of this place.
Though I knew not who owned that voice, the sudden deepening of those two men’s gazes was answer enough.
‘This is not a matter to smile and laugh about.’
As I muttered this conclusion to myself, Beast King Miao Wang, whose eyes met mine, suddenly let out a soft chuckle.
“An amusing fellow, aren’t you.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s nothing. Merely a passing thought.”
Nothing, he says. Yet anyone could see it was something.
But as if to forbid further inquiry, Beast King Miao Wang, waving his thick hand dismissively, opened his mouth to address all of us.
“I apologize, but another guest has arrived. Might you vacate the space? There is still time, so I would prefer we rest and recover before discussing matters in detail.”
Beast King Miao Wang’s words about having time held a certain irony. So long as Dark Heaven existed, no one could predict what calamity might strike.
Yet I agreed with his proposal to rest briefly before continuing our conversation.
‘At least for now, there seem to be no unusual disturbances in the Southern Wilderness.’
As I nodded with that thought, Beast King Miao Wang’s gaze fell upon Ya-ryul Mok, who stood to the right.
“Mok.”
A single word, yet it sufficed. Ya-ryul Mok, bowing respectfully, gestured toward us. The meaning was clear—follow.
“We shall take our leave.”
“Very well. I shall arrange a proper welcome for Geo Han.”
I hoped the welcome ceremony would be pleasant enough, but what I truly desired was for the discussion regarding entry into the alliance and Dark Heaven to proceed smoothly.
As we turned from Beast King Miao Wang and reached the door, the stone gate carved from rock began to move.
Creak, creak, creak.
Beyond the widening gap, accompanied by heavy grinding sounds, two muscular strongmen clad in bear hides pulled at iron chains connected to the door.
And…
“It has been a long time.”
The owner of that clipped voice we had heard earlier appeared as well.
To his sudden greeting, Ya-ryul Mok bowed his head.
“Ya-ryul Mok of the Miao Clan pays respects to Uncle Baek Sang.”
A middle-aged foreign man dressed entirely in white garments and ornaments from head to toe—Baek Sang, as Ya-ryul Mok addressed him, opened his mouth.
“I heard word of your return. There was quite a significant fire in the northeastern pastures, I understand?”
“It was a minor matter. It was swiftly suppressed.”
“A minor matter, you say.”
Cold eyes befitting his clipped voice emerged. Baek Sang’s frigid gaze swept across Ya-ryul Mok and us standing behind him.
More precisely, across me in particular.
Simultaneously, a low, measured voice continued.
“I hope that is the case.”
“….”
“Where is the Palace Master?”
“Waiting inside.”
That was all. Baek Sang glanced at Ya-ryul Mok, who kept his head bowed, then passed by us without a word.
Gugu-gung. As the stone gate closed with a heavy thud once more, Ya-ryul Mok finally lifted his head.
I asked the fellow, who stood staring at the firmly sealed stone gate with his mouth clamped shut.
“Who was that person?”
“It is not for you to know.”
“Doesn’t want to talk about it, I see. Well, never mind then. Nam Ho?”
At my call, Nam Ho—the Shadow Pavilion’s pride, the living encyclopedia of the Southern Wilderness—answered without hesitation.
“He is the great chieftain of the White Tribe, one of the four most powerful major tribes in the Southern Wilderness.”
“Ah. No wonder he was dressed entirely in white. The White Tribe—I saw a few of those pale fellows at the entrance to the Southern Wilderness. You’re talking about them, right?”
Nam Ho answered in a somewhat reluctant tone.
“Pale fellows… well, that’s not entirely wrong. The tribe itself reveres the color white.”
Over thirty tribes coexist across the Southern Wilderness, each forming villages and preserving their own customs.
But Yeongin was something like a meeting place in the Southern Wilderness, where several tribes compromised and lived together in relative harmony—and the White Tribe was among them.
‘I had no idea they were such a powerful tribe.’
In any case, the great chieftain of one of the four massive tribes that divided this vast Southern Wilderness into quarters….
I had suspected as much when Ya-ryul Mok mentioned his uncle, but he was an even bigger figure than I’d imagined.
Having gathered the basic information, I soon caught up and stayed close behind Ya-ryul Mok, who had moved ahead.
“But you two didn’t seem very close. Is he really your uncle?”
“….”
“Hey, hey. Can’t you hear me?”
“….”
“When someone calls you, you should answer. Do you want to see burning grasslands? Huh? Should I set a nice big fire on the way back?”
“….”
“Yeah. This bastard’s ignoring me completely. Okay, I get it. You don’t shed tears for coffins—you only cry for flames.”
Based on my track record as a trash-talker up to this point, my win rate is 100%. And this time was no exception.
“…Stop spouting incomprehensible nonsense. Please.”
“Ah, then just behave yourself. If you answered quickly, this wouldn’t happen.”
Ya-ryul Mok, who had been glaring at me, let out something like a sigh.
“Think before you ask. If he were a true uncle, would the tribe matter?”
“True enough. But why keep calling him uncle?”
“He and my father are sworn brothers. They built a deep bond from childhood and fought together constantly during the Great War of the Righteous Demon, or so I’ve heard.”
I opened my eyes wide in surprise.
“What? Is that true?”
“I hear you Han people are quite suspicious. So it’s true after all. Why, don’t you believe me?”
“That’s not it exactly… I was just genuinely surprised.”
“Is it really so shocking that the two of them are sworn brothers?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“…?”
“Ya-ryul Cheok was your father? Not your grandfather or great-grandfather?”
“…!”
Ya-ryul Mok’s eyes grew cold, though the revelation itself was certainly surprising.
Heavens, this youth—at most in his mid-twenties—was the son of Beast King Miao Wang, who had long since passed eighty.
Even accounting for the Murim’s tendency toward late marriages, this was remarkable in an entirely different sense.
“Um, excuse me, Lord?”
At Ju Hwa-ran’s cautious call, I waved my hand dismissively.
“Just a moment. One last question, if you don’t mind. You’re not the eldest son, are you?”
Tap-tap-tap.
His footsteps quickened suddenly. Ya-ryul Mok answered through gritted teeth.
“The sole heir of three generations.”
“Ah, Ya-ryul the unique heir. Omniscient Southern Wilderness perspective, totally possible.”
“What are you saying? Are you truly mad?”
“I do occasionally speak in ways you can’t comprehend. But anyway, it seems this Baek Sang fellow or whoever opposes the alliance membership? Whatever happened in the past, relations aren’t good now, are they?”
“That’s not something an outsider like you should concern yourself with…!”
This is why the flow of conversation matters.
Ya-ryul Mok, whose face had flushed with heat, faltered and trailed off, but the water was already spilled, the flames already spreading beyond control.
Having perfectly hooked my prey, I smiled warmly and patted the youth’s shoulder.
“Kid. Why did you stop talking? So my suspicion was right after all, wasn’t it?”
“…You bastard.”
“This much suffices for now. I’ll ask more later if needed. In any case, thank you. And this is our lodging, yes? You’ve gone to considerable trouble guiding us here.”
I turned away from Ya-ryul Mok, whose glare could kill, and faced back. Nam Ho was staring at me with the expression of a primitive discovering fire.
“Have you no interest in joining the Shadow Pavilion?”
“The Shadow Pavilion? Anyway, you heard everything, didn’t you?”
“Of course. Your skill at subtly luring and capturing information was at least that of Jiang Ziya himself.”
I answered in a measured tone.
“A fisherman who catches men. Please call me Jin-dro.”
“Jin-dro…!”
Ju Hwa-ran and Hyuk Moo-jin clenched their fists with excited expressions.
“Lord, you truly are amazing. At first, I really thought you’d lost your mind.”
“Miss Ju speaks the truth. How much must I have wanted to tear your mouth to shreds, Leader.”
This feeling is strange somehow, but I’ve accomplished something. I smiled contentedly and opened my mouth.
“Thank you for the praise, Miss Ju. Moo-jin, headbutt.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thunk.
I naturally settled onto Hyuk Moo-jin’s back as if breathing. Song Il-seom and Sa Ma-pyo, who had been watching the situation with bewildered expressions, asked.
“It’s absurd, but regardless, we’ve learned the important information.”
“Lord, what do you intend to do now?”
I silently shrugged my shoulders.
I had obtained new information, but the fact that the White Tribe’s patriarch opposed the Southern Beast Palace’s entry into the Martial Alliance was hardly good news, no matter how I looked at it.
Yet what troubled me even more was the reason behind it.
Why. How could it be.
He who had participated in the Great Martial Tournament, the sworn brother who had grown up alongside Beast King Miao Wang since childhood—what possible reason could he have for opposing the alliance’s membership?
And what did the coldness I sensed from Baek Sang in that fleeting encounter mean, along with the scrutinizing gaze he had fixed upon me?
That was what gnawed at me.
Grrrrowl.
“Tae-san. I’m hungry.”
“….”
That damned bastard.
* * *
The Grand Historian’s Chair, draped in leopard and tiger pelts.
Beast King Miao Wang, reclining with his chin propped at an angle, reached for the wine bottle before him.
Glug glug.
As the crude stone bottle he had carved himself tilted, murky wine filled a large wooden bowl to the brim.
From the two cups thus filled, Beast King Miao Wang offered one to his new guest.
“It’s the fruit wine you favor. Don’t be shy—drink up, Baek Sang.”
Baek Sang. The name meant white elephant.
Yet the middle-aged man who slowly caught the wine cup bore little resemblance to an elephant.
With eyes as cold as ice and lips drawn tight, his lean frame a stark contrast to Beast King Miao Wang’s, he replied in a clipped voice.
“I’ll have to decline. Not today.”
Clink.
As Baek Sang set down the cup with deliberate sound, Beast King Miao Wang smiled bitterly.
“…I see. That’s fine.”
Yet his heart ached despite his words.
His one and only sworn brother, with whom he had laughed and reveled through countless days and nights in memories now faded and dim, had been giving the same answer for decades.
Not today.
It was not merely today’s refusal. The day before yesterday, yesterday—and tomorrow and the day after would be no different.
Because it had become so familiar, he could foresee it, and the knowledge that his foresight would prove accurate pierced his heart.
“So, what brings you to this old brother today?”
Baek Sang answered without wavering.
“You know why.”
“Because of them.”
“They came from the Martial Alliance, I’m told.”
“Indeed. They were sent by Sword Saint Mae Jong-hak, who has assumed the position of new Alliance Leader.”
Beast King Miao Wang readily confirmed it. There was nothing to hide, and even if he tried, it would inevitably reach Baek Sang’s ears.
After all, the White Tribe was well-represented even among those belonging to the Inner Hall of the Southern Beast Palace.
‘Perhaps he even knows their detailed identities.’
The Baek Sang he knew had always been meticulous, and this time would be no exception.
Baek Sang’s cold gaze turned toward Beast King Miao Wang, who drank in silence.
“You haven’t forgotten the outcome of the last tribal council, have you?”
As if that were possible. Beast King Miao Wang’s inner response was cut short as Baek Sang’s crisp, clipped voice pierced through his thoughts.
“We of the Southern Beast Palace will never join the Martial Alliance.”
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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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