Murim Login - Chapter 646

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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 646
At this rate, I’d be branded a traitor to the tribe, so I had no choice but to explain everything that happened at the Tribal Council from beginning to end.
Of course, answering the questions that came up along the way as well.
“You received recognition from more than half the tribal leaders?”
“Yes, they even held a banquet. They thanked me for saving the tribespeople and their blood relatives.”
“My goodness. I suspected as much when you didn’t return, but… An outsider, and a Han tribesman at that, attending the Tribal Council would be the first time in Southern Wilderness history, not to mention Martial World history.”
At Ju Hwa-ran’s astonished expression, Nam Ho beside her added with a warm smile.
“Right. It’s the first time. First time an outsider attended the Tribal Council, and first time that outsider fought the White Tribe’s Grand Chieftain. Yes indeed, that’s right.”
“…”
“…”
“Hehe. I’m so proud and delighted I can’t help but laugh. Don’t mind me and continue.”
Though I was very much minding it, I pressed on regardless.
“Anyway, the Council proceeded like that…”
Ju Hwa-ran’s eyes widened as she listened to my explanation.
“The Blood Monk?”
“Yes. Apparently he’s been ravaging Gwiju lately. They say he’s already slaughtered hundreds and is running rampant, but this was the first time I’d heard that epithet, so I wondered if you might have heard of him before?”
The Yongbong Escort Agency’s headquarters is in Sichuan, and Gwiju borders its southeastern region.
Moreover, though their fortunes have declined for some time, they were once counted among the greatest escort agencies under heaven, so their intelligence network is quite substantial.
‘So perhaps Miss Ju might know something.’
But such hopes quickly faded.
After hearing the Blood Monk’s characteristics from me, Ju Hwa-ran shook her head.
“I’m sorry. There are a few epithets that vaguely come to mind, but none of them are masters of that caliber. And there’s no particular physical description either.”
“I see.”
I felt somewhat disappointed, though I didn’t show it openly.
As Ju Hwa-ran said, identifying a single person by characteristics alone without a physical description was difficult work.
The information I’d provided amounted to little more than his apparent middle age, martial prowess estimated to be at the pinnacle, and that his weapon of choice was a rare poison blade.
‘Well, how vast is the Martial World anyway.’
Its vastness wasn’t limited to the land alone. There were countless people as well.
Even fellows carrying around cheap swords forged from scrap metal would strut about with epithets like “Flying Dragon Guest” or “Sword Demon.”
‘It’s like searching for a single grain of sand on an endless desert.’
Just as I was clicking my tongue, Ju Hwa-ran, who had been wearing an apologetic expression, suddenly spoke up as if remembering something.
“Ah, but regarding such matters, Song the escort would know better than I would. Isn’t that right, Song the escort?”
Hm? Really?
Everyone’s gaze, including mine, turned in one direction.
Song Il-seom, who as always kept his mouth firmly shut, murmured.
“Hmm, I’m not sure.”
Not sure my foot. Having already sized up the character completely, I tossed him a silver coin and spoke.
“Hey, Soul Thief. If you know something, spit it out cleanly, would you?”
Though he now serves as a mere escort, Song Il-seom is a martial genius carrying the bloodline of the Guangdong Chen Family, and at a tender age, he became a legend in the Bandit world by winning over a hundred life-and-death duels.
In a way, few professions are as sensitive to people and rumors as bandits. After all, their lives hang in the balance from one day to the next.
Clack.
Song Il-seom caught the silver coin that flew toward him, his brow furrowing.
“Who do you take me for—some money-crazed fool?”
“Yeah.”
…
“So, you don’t like it?”
“I don’t dislike it.”
“What if I offer more money here?”
“Even better.”
“Here then, take more silver. You money-obsessed bastard.”
Whoosh. Clack.
“…Something feels off about this.”
Song Il-seom, having secured the bonus without hesitation, opened his mouth with an uncomfortable expression.
“Using a spear at middle age?”
“Yeah, I heard it was supposedly made of steel.”
“What does he look like in detail?”
“I don’t know that much. All I know is he’s bald and has no beard. The survivor who fled to the Southern Wilderness only told us that much before dying.”
“A complete mess, then. But I can think of three people who might fit. Not many martial artists in the Murim use a spear as their signature weapon.”
“Oh, three of them?”
“There’s just one problem….”
“That’s fine. Tell me.”
And amid everyone’s eager gazes, including my own, Song Il-seom opened his mouth.
“They’re dead.”
“What?”
“More precisely, I killed them. I happened to encounter them on the battlefield while taking on a contract.”
“Hmm… well, that could happen. What about the other two?”
“What are you talking about? Two?”
“You just said you killed one.”
“I killed all three.”
…?
“Two on the battlefield, one in a life-or-death duel. The last one I met was the strongest.”
…!
A heavy silence fell for a moment, and Nam Ho’s murmur, speaking for everyone’s sentiment, reached my ears.
“There’s another crazy bastard out there.”
I’m not sure who the other crazy bastard is, but I completely agree.
I stared at Song Il-seom standing there vacantly, deliberating. Should I take the silver first and then hit him, or hit him and then take the silver?
Then I spotted someone looking at Song Il-seom with an expression of utter contempt, and I suddenly opened my mouth.
“Hey, you there, heterodox sect lackey.”
“…Heterodox sect lackey?”
“Yeah. Don’t you know anything?”
Sa Ma-pyo, the rumor-monger of the Dae Heukryong Mamun—currently the most formidable heterodox faction in the realm and self-proclaimed hegemon of Gansu—furrowed his brow.
“I have three things to say. First, I am no mere foot soldier of the heterodox sects. Second, Gansu and Gwiju lie nearly a thousand li apart, making travel between them arduous. And third, why would you assume I’d know anything about that?”
“Because you’re heterodox.”
“…?”
“It’s common knowledge that villains always know each other’s business.”
“…!”
“Well, suit yourself.”
I waved my hand dismissively at Sa Ma-pyo, who had gone rigid as stone, and turned my attention to another colossal heterodox lackey standing beside him.
Before I could even open my mouth, I received a resounding answer.
Growl. Grrrrowwwl.
“….”
What the hell.
Nam Ho burst into raucous laughter at the mighty vuvuzela-like roar that echoed across the Southern Wilderness—as if we were watching a World Cup final.
“Heh heh, that bastard. If I’d only mastered martial arts, I’d have split that damned belly open. Ehehehe.”
From the way he’d been laughing since earlier, it seemed his mind had half-departed. Hyuk Moo-jin, watching Nam Ho with eyes full of apprehension, finally spoke.
“Um, squad leader.”
“Shut your trap.”
“Pardon?”
“Ah, force of habit. Sorry. But if you spout nonsense like the others in this situation, I’ll kill you.”
“No, that’s not it. This Blood Monk or whatever—for someone from the Martial World, there’s almost no information about him at all.”
Of all the things said so far, this was the most sensible after what Ju Hwa-ran had offered. I scratched the back of my head in frustration and clicked my tongue.
“True enough. How many years has he lived, and yet no one knows anything about him?”
Nam Ho, who had been glaring at Tae-san with a murderous gaze, interjected.
“Speaking as one who’s eaten enough years myself, I know of no such man. There was a Demon Master called Slayer-of-Buddha during the Great Martial Arts Tournament of old, but his characteristics differ considerably from this Blood Monk. He was so ancient even then that it’s questionable whether he’s still alive.”
Nam Ho was no mere foreign elder—he had held significant responsibilities within the Shadow Pavilion, so his words carried considerable weight.
‘Then what is his true identity? At this level, he’s practically a recluse.’
If even Nam Ho, a figure from the distant past, and the current generation of Fire Dragon Pavilion members knew nothing, he was truly an enigma.
But what mattered most in this situation was not Blood Monk’s true identity, but rather his backer and purpose.
Nam Ho tapped his knee thoughtfully, then spoke as if reading my thoughts.
“I cannot be certain, but there is a strong possibility that Dark Heaven stands behind Blood Monk.”
“I agree. The Tribal Council said the same.”
“What did Beast King Miao Wang and the other tribal leaders think?”
“They decided to move some scouts and warriors toward Gwiju first, but… Baek Sang’s reaction before that troubled me.”
“He probably said to stop meddling in Central Plains affairs.”
“Huh?”
“It’s nothing new. Ever since the Great Martial Arts Tournament, Baek Sang has trembled at anything involving the Central Plains. Even the trade routes we had with the Southern Wilderness were closed due to resistance from the White Tribe and other tribes. But what troubles me now is….”
Nam Ho continued with a heavy sigh.
“Whether Baek Sang’s conduct stems from grief over losing his only son in the Han wars, or whether he harbors some grudge against the Orthodox Martial Arts World in the process.”
“Mm.”
“If it’s the former, it will end with a father’s resistance to losing his child. But if it’s the latter….”
Ju Hwa-ran, who had been listening to the quietly unfolding story, let out a small murmur.
“It would be betrayal. The kind that could endanger all of the Southern Wilderness.”
“Yes, exactly. If he’s joined hands with Dark Heaven, this situation will spiral beyond control.”
An internal enemy is more dangerous than an external one.
No matter how impregnable an iron fortress may be, if it crumbles from within, it becomes no different from a sandcastle swept away by waves.
And if that traitor is one of the two great chieftains who divides the Southern Wilderness alongside Beast King Miao Wang himself.
‘It’s truly the end.’
I had to uncover the truth and stop it, no matter what.
Both the identity of the sinister plot unfolding from within, and the destination of Blood Monk, who by now must be heading somewhere again from the distant lands of Gwiju.
But even the system that elevated me from an F-rank Hunter to this position cannot split my single body into two.
‘Then….’
I lifted my head and slowly surveyed the people around me.
I recalled their martial prowess and characteristics, their personalities one by one. Who would be the most suitable? Who could survive and return from unknown dangers?
And in that moment when I was lost in deep contemplation with no end in sight, someone suddenly spoke up.
“I’ll go.”
“…!”
“Please send me. I will definitely complete the mission and return.”
I was astonished. Once because she had read my mind without a single word from me. And again because that person was none other than Ju Hwa-ran.
And my answer tumbled out as if it had been predetermined from the start.
“That’s not possible.”
“Why? Do you think I’ll be harmed by that old demon Blood Monk?”
“That’s….”
“Though my martial arts are humble compared to yours, I believe I’m skilled enough to protect myself.”
“Miss Ju.”
“I understand your concerns. Of course, I would be no match for Blood Monk alone. But the Southern Beast Palace’s hand-picked warriors will accompany me, and some of the members here will go as well. If I’m mistaken, please correct me.”
Instead of answering, I pressed my lips firmly shut. Because Ju Hwa-ran’s words were undeniably true.
I had planned to select some members of the Fire Dragon Pavilion and assign them to the scout unit departing soon, tasking them with uncovering Blood Monk’s identity and objectives. I had even accounted for the worst-case scenario of combat.
But there was one thing I hadn’t anticipated—Ju Hwa-ran’s volunteering.
“Chief. No, my benefactor.”
My benefactor. That was the title she had first called me by, shortly after the Yongbong Escort Agency matter ended in Sichuan a few months ago.
The fragrance of flowers from the Flower Garden, where I had walked one last time before departing, seemed to drift past.
And those eyes, glistening with moisture beneath the moonlight then, now shone with unwavering resolve.
“Please send me.”
“…!”
“I can do this.”
A thought suddenly occurred to me.
That I would never be able to refuse a request made with those eyes and that voice, not for all eternity.
Sigh.
The wind was hot, and my mouth tasted bitter.
With a small exhale, I finally nodded my head.
At the same moment, Ju Hwa-ran’s face brightened with radiance. From somewhere distant, the strains of music announcing the beginning of the banquet had already begun to drift through the air.

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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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