Murim Login - Chapter 627

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

Chapter 627
The quarters temporarily assigned to us were reasonably adequate. While they lacked the splendor and refinement of the Central Plains, they were clean and sufficiently comfortable for me and the Fire Dragon Pavilion members to stay for the time being.
Of course, that didn’t mean we were receiving unconditional hospitality.
“Hmm. Does anyone know what’s stuck between my chopsticks right now?”
During the meal, Hyuk Moo-jin’s hand shot up in response to the surprise quiz I posed.
“Yes, that’s right. Moo-jin, go ahead.”
“The answer! It’s a bug!”
“Correct—specifically, a centipede. But why in the world is something like this in the food?”
“Hmm. Perhaps it’s a custom of the Southern Wilderness ethnic minorities?”
Nam Ho, an eighty-year veteran of the Southern Wilderness tribes, muttered while picking out something resembling a caterpillar.
“I’ve never heard of such a custom before…?”
I could understand roasted grasshoppers to some degree, but this was on the level of dumping live insects into the dish—there was no defending it.
Sa Ma-pyo sighed quietly as he watched Tae-san persistently attempting to bury his face in his plate.
“It seems we’re not being welcomed, after all.”
There was no way this could constitute a proper meal. Song Il-seom, setting down his chopsticks, spoke matter-of-factly.
“It’s probably because of the Cheon-ma Escort Agency incident.”
I agreed. However, I didn’t believe Ya-ryul Mok had directly ordered something this petty.
A figure of his standing as the Young Palace Master wouldn’t resort to such crude methods.
‘In the end, this is the work of other ethnic minorities within the Southern Beast Palace.’
Ever since entering the Southern Wilderness, I’d been receiving consistent hostility. I was thinking that even an ugly duckling wouldn’t endure this much, when Ju Hwa-ran, who had gone upstairs earlier claiming she needed to wash before the meal, quietly appeared.
“Oh? You’re already done washing?”
No, how long had she been gone? Even trainee number fifty-four from the Nonsan Training Facility couldn’t wash that quickly.
At my questioning look, Ju Hwa-ran answered with an awkward smile.
“Ah, yes.”
“…?”
Something felt off. As I stared silently, Ju Hwa-ran hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Actually, the thing is….”
After hearing the full story, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“They gave you boiling water in this weather? And mixed something filthy into it?”
Ju Hwa-ran nodded with an uncomfortable expression.
“I actually didn’t want to tell you. It could have been a simple mistake, and I was worried it might cause problems….”
“It’s not a simple mistake. And don’t worry about it. There are other issues anyway, regardless of this.”
Only then did Ju Hwa-ran, noticing the meal situation, offer a brief comment.
“Ugh.”
“Just to be sure, you’re not planning to eat any of this, right?”
“No. Of course not.”
This was the first time I’d seen Ju Hwa-ran answer so firmly. I clicked my tongue softly and stood up.
“Squad leader. Where are you going?”
“To cause some trouble.”
The world works on a simple principle: if you stay still, people take you for a sack; if you move, they see you as a sack as well. But sometimes, you have to make them see you for what you truly are.
Since I’m here to persuade the Southern Beast Palace, I’ll maintain some decorum, but I need to throw a tantrum once to ensure they never pull this stunt again.
Just as I was about to wrench the door open, I suddenly remembered something I’d forgotten and stopped in my tracks.
“Oh. And.”
“Yes?”
“Tell him to stop eating.”
No one needed to ask who I meant by “him.”
There was only one person here devouring a third bowl of stir-fried insects in a rainbow of colors. Sa Ma-pyo gazed at Tae-san with sorrowful eyes.
“Tae-san. Stop…!”
Yes, please just stop.
* * *
It was the most colossal tree I had ever laid eyes upon.
A girth so immense that dozens of strong men would need to spread their arms wide to embrace it, and a height that stretched at least dozens of zhang into the heavens.
My breath caught at the sight, but I hadn’t come here to admire trees—I’d come to meet someone.
“Mao. Come down.”
Rustle.
The dense foliage trembled. Soon, accompanied by a low beast’s cry, Ya-ryul Mok’s reluctant voice pierced my ears.
“You again. How did you find this place?”
“I asked around. They said you come here often.”
“Who told you?”
“The one who manages the Pavilion.”
“Hwang Gae?”
“Hwang Gae or whatever—something like that, I think.”
“He’s not the type to reveal such things to a Han.”
“Maybe not to a Han, but he was quite forthcoming with my fists.”
“….”
“Come down. My neck hurts.”
I doubted he’d descend just because my neck ached, so I helpfully added another incentive.
“Before I topple this tree.”
“This tree was planted by the ancestors of my ancestors. It took root in this land a thousand years ago.”
“Then someday your descendants will say the same thing. ‘There used to be a thousand-year-old tree here, but some Han bastard came and ripped it out by the roots.’ Why, Mother? Because our ancestor wouldn’t come down from the tree when asked nicely.”
“….”
“So come down. Before I destroy the environment.”
I wondered if I’d actually have to uproot it if he refused again, but Ya-ryul Mok proved to be far more devoted to nature than I’d anticipated.
Swish. Thud.
Baek Ho descended smoothly, snapping branches underfoot, and released a low growl in my direction.
Ya-ryul Mok, gently stroking the beast’s neck, fixed me with a glare.
“Madman.”
“What, bringing that up now?”
As I sheepishly scratched the back of my head, Ya-ryul Mok’s face flushed crimson with rage, and he growled like the beast beside him.
“What became of Hwang Gae?”
“Ah, that man. His limbs are intact. He was a bit frightened, but that’s all.”
“He’s lost his mind. Coming here to ask for help, yet oppressing the people of the Southern Wilderness.”
“There’s been a misunderstanding. I truly didn’t lay a finger on him. Though I did grab him by the collar.”
I’m no common thug, and even in the Central Plains, I’ve never acted so recklessly.
I always start with words, and only resort to fists when that fails. And this time, I had more than sufficient reason.
“Fried rice with insects. Bathwater filth.”
“What?”
“If it’s not a traditional custom, then the Southern Beast Palace’s hospitality toward guests leaves much to be desired. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Ya-ryul Mok furrowed his brow in thought for a moment, then let out a sigh-like murmur.
“I think I’m beginning to understand what happened.”
“If you had a rough idea, you should have given me some warning.”
“I never expected such blatant hostility to be displayed….”
Ya-ryul Mok trailed off, then closed his mouth and bowed his head toward me.
“I apologize. I offer my sincere apologies.”
“…Okay.”
“What’s with that reaction?”
“It’s nothing.”
Truth be told, I was somewhat surprised. Though we hadn’t known each other long, I never expected Ya-ryul Mok—who seemed proud and rough—to bow his head so obediently.
‘Is he the type to acknowledge his mistakes immediately and harbor no resentment?’
It’s easy to make mistakes, but difficult to acknowledge them and apologize with sincerity.
And in that sense, the young lord of the Southern Beast Palace possessed a better character than I’d anticipated.
“I’ll replace the people on my way back. Not just Hwang Gae, but everyone involved. There won’t be a repeat of this incident.”
“Well, if you’re going to do that much.”
“It was my mistake. I apologize again, and I hope this doesn’t reach my father’s ears.”
“Why? Does he beat you sometimes when you mess up?”
Ya-ryul Mok answered with an emotional expression.
“What nonsense are you spouting!”
“Suit yourself. But the way you’re pleading makes me wonder if you got beaten for three days and nights straight.”
“My father has never laid a hand on me, not even once.”
Actually, if his father is the Beast King Miao Wang, he probably wouldn’t need to lay a hand on him to raise him well.
With that physique and that martial prowess, his son—not to mention his grandson, or perhaps even his great-grandson—would have a free pass through adolescence.
As I was thinking such things, Ya-ryul Mok, who had been hesitating, added in a small voice.
“I may be fine, but the others are a different matter. If my father learns of this, his wrath will be terrible.”
“I see.”
“My father welcomed you as a guest, so it’s natural for you Han people to lodge a complaint. But that doesn’t mean I intend to punish Hwang Gae and the others.”
“You must be frustrated because of that damned Cheon-ma Escort Agency.”
“…The name seems a bit off, but that’s one of the reasons as well.”
“One of the reasons. That makes it sound like there are other reasons.”
Ya-ryul Mok, who had been watching me silently for a while, now stroked Baek Ho’s chin, which had grown docile, and opened his mouth.
“The Righteous-Demonic Great War.”
“Hm?”
“We shed far too much blood in the Central Plains. Under Father’s leadership, all the tribes of the Southern Wilderness united their strength, and nearly ten thousand warriors marched to the battlefield. Yet those who returned home alive numbered less than half of half.”
A low growl rumbled forth.
Baek Ho, who had been accepting the quiet caress of a gentle hand, turned his gaze toward his master with worried eyes.
Ya-ryul Mok’s voice continued, laden with complex emotion.
“Someone’s parents. Someone’s children. Friends and relatives we grew up with from childhood. Most of them who marched to the battlefield with smiles never returned. Even I, born long after, was no exception.”
“You as well?”
“By rights, I should never have become the Young Chieftain. This is the true answer to the question you posed earlier.”
Recalling the conversation I had shared with Ya-ryul Mok shortly after parting with Beast King Miao Wang, I suddenly understood.
“You had older siblings.”
“Three. One of them was a sister. Though young and born a woman, she was said to be as valiant as any warrior. Had she not participated in the Zhengma Great War, my sister would have been married to the one she loved. Father and Uncle Baek Sang would have become both sworn brothers and in-laws.”
“Wait. Then that means….”
“You’re thinking correctly. In the war among the Han people that they named the Zhengma Great War, Father lost two sons and one daughter, while Uncle Baek Sang had to send off first the son he cherished like his own life.”
Ya-ryul Mok added a word with a bitter smile.
“Do not blame Hwang Gae too harshly. He lost both parents and all his relatives.”
I found myself with nothing to say and simply closed my mouth.
In truth, I had heard tales of the Zhengma Great War from various places until my ears ached, yet I had not known the Southern Wilderness suffered such grievous losses.
Or more honestly, I suppose I had thought there was no need to know.
The Southern Wilderness was Sae Oe, tens of thousands of li distant from the Central Plains, a completely separate land divorced from the Martial World.
And surely others who spoke of the Zhengma Great War harbored the same sentiment.
Only a handful—Jeok Cheon-gang foremost among them—had bothered to inform anyone that the Southern Wilderness had suffered such devastation.
‘So they all harbored old grievances. The incident with the Cheon-ma Escort Agency not long ago must have been the spark that ignited them.’
Whatever compensation they received after the war’s end, they still carried wounds that had never truly healed. And just as those wounds were beginning to close, just as scabs were barely forming, this calamity had struck.
“Mere decades ago, we were united, sacrificing our lives in battle for the Han people. Now some of us have killed our own.”
Ya-ryul Mok’s voice, cold and seething, pierced through the silence.

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