Murim Login - Chapter 659

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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 659
Crunch.
A massive, fur-covered paw pressed down on brittle, desiccated leaves.
Between parted jaws, gleaming fangs caught the light—wicked and sharp. The sleek, muscular body crouched low in the grass was coiled and ready, every sinew prepared for the strike.
What meat would today bring?
Spot prey, sprint forward, drive fangs into the throat—simple as that.
So long as I avoided the occasional venomous creature that stumbled into my path, hunting in the Southern Wilderness was effortless.
At least for Black Leopard, who reigned near the apex of the food chain.
A low rumble vibrated from my chest.
My golden eyes swept the surroundings when I caught it—a distant disturbance, carried on the wind.
The scent and tremor of many approaching presences reached my keen senses.
Sniff, sniff.
As a apex predator, my senses were razor-sharp. It didn’t take long to identify what was approaching.
Humans.
More precisely—a herd of them. Roughly a hundred strong, drawing steadily closer.
A displeased growl escaped me.
Humans were not welcome company.
Despite their diminutive frames, they hunted beasts far larger than themselves, and their numbers multiplied their strength exponentially.
Just like now.
A soft rustle.
I rose from my crouch, muscles unfurling.
Only a fool hunted humans alone. The wiser choice was to abandon this ground and seek easier prey elsewhere.
Having reached that conclusion, I turned to leave—
When I froze.
“Huff… huff…”
A single human stumbled through the grass, gasping desperately.
It collapsed into a crouch among the weeds, breathing heavily.
“That was close. Nearly didn’t make it.”
Then came the unmistakable sounds and scents that made even beasts recoil—and my vertical pupils blazed with predatory light.
Unmistakable. This human had separated from its herd to relieve itself.
Unaware it had just found its grave.
A low snarl rumbled from my throat.
One target. A foolish one at that.
My decision was swift. The muscles binding my four legs contracted explosively, and my dark form launched forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
A sharp crack, then a piercing shriek!
I closed the distance in a heartbeat, and only then did the human’s head turn toward me.
But the reaction came too late. My fangs gleamed like daggers as my jaws gaped wide.
–
A deafening roar tore from my throat!
Wet crunching sounds. Sickening snaps.
A thunderous roar erupted, followed by the sickening sound of tearing flesh. Bodies—large and small—tumbled across the ground in a chaotic tangle.
Moments later, the sole survivor of this brief but brutal clash announced his continued existence.
“Hah!”
The man’s face, emerging from between black fur, was drenched in blood—Black Leopard’s blood.
In that final moment, I had driven my blade deep into the skull of the beast that ruled this region, and now I gasped for breath in ragged, violent heaves.
“Huff… huff… Damn it. I nearly died in that fight.”
An ambush while I was relieving myself. Even now, thinking back on it, the margin had been razor-thin.
Had I been the man I was a year ago, I would have become nothing more than Black Leopard’s meal.
But like a seed sprouting into growth, I had grown considerably stronger than my past self.
“Getting beaten so much has sharpened my reflexes… but how do I get out from under this thing?”
I was still groaning and struggling, pinned beneath the massive corpse of Black Leopard, when—
“Curious. That errand you mentioned—was it something like this?”
A familiar voice pierced through my ears, and my face brightened instantly.
“Oh! Song Dae-hyup!”
Song Il-seom, the source of that voice, let out a sigh.
“I told you not to call me that.”
“Why not? Isn’t helping someone in distress the mark of a great hero?”
“You speak as eloquently as your superior. It’s quite something.”
“I take that as a compliment, but please don’t say such things in front of the Tribal Leader. Even if you’re called Song Dae-hyup, you’ll end up getting beaten just as eloquently.”
Song Il-seom nodded at the sincere advice that came from Hyuk Moo-jin’s very soul.
“…Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good thinking. Now, could you help me move this thing? I’m starting to lose consciousness. I keep seeing my father’s face in front of my eyes.”
“When did he pass away?”
“What are you talking about? He’s still alive and well.”
“…?”
Is this man insane?
Song Il-seom, who had been genuinely pondering the matter, soon gave up on the thought and grabbed hold of Black Leopard’s corpse.
The Hwaryong Pavilion, which he had somehow come to serve, was rarely populated with sane individuals. Of course, the Pavilion Master was the craziest of them all.
Drag. Thud.
Hyuk Moo-jin, finally freed from the brink of being crushed to death, brushed the dirt from his clothes and asked.
“Phew, that was close. What about the others?”
“Setting up camp. The Lord is there as well. We’ve been riding hard for nearly ten hours without rest, so it seems they’ve decided a break is necessary. While you were away, a messenger also arrived.”
“A messenger?”
“Yes. It appears the Southern Beast Palace sent a Messenger Hawk. Seems they had additional orders to convey.”
“That’s welcome news either way. The beasts have been moving so violently that my backside nearly got destroyed.”
“Those creatures need rest too. Still, the Southern people must have trained them well—their stamina is impressive, nearly matching that of the Steppe horses.”
About a day ago, we had departed from the Outer Palace with the Scouting Party and had been maintaining a forced march ever since.
With Blood Monk—an old demon we had never heard of before—liable to cross into Guangxi and advance southward at any moment, it was the only prudent choice.
“When are we expected to arrive?”
“According to the two tribal leaders, at the earliest in two days, at the latest within four. The Lord seems to be thinking along similar lines.”
“It sounds like you’re saying we have to leave within two days no matter what. Am I imagining things?”
“You heard correctly. To stop Blood Monk, we need to move as quickly as possible.”
“Like we’re doing now?”
“We might have to move even faster than this.”
“…Faster than now is a bit much.”
Hyuk Moo-jin, who had been wearing a reluctant expression, soon nodded his head.
“Damn. There’s no helping it, I suppose.”
“You give up rather quickly for someone so determined.”
“Song Dae-hyup, try following the commander for about a year. After that, you’ll abandon everything—including your life, naturally.”
“Unfortunately, that won’t happen.”
“Why not?”
“If it weren’t for the Young Lord, I wouldn’t have come this far. That’s the only reason I’m in this wretched Southern Wilderness.”
At the sharp reply, Hyuk Moo-jin shrugged his shoulders.
“Well then. I suppose we’ll be seeing each other often.”
“What?”
“You just said it yourself. The reason you came all this way is because of the Young Lady. And the Young Lady will be staying with the commander going forward, won’t she?”
“…!”
“Song Dae-hyup, you seem to be less intelligent than I thought.”
Song Il-seom, who had been momentarily frozen, asked in a calm voice.
“Do you want to die?”
“No. My apologies.”
Hyuk Moo-jin answered quickly and carefully extracted the blade that had been lodged in Black Leopard’s skull, gauging the mood.
Squelch.
Blood gushed from the gaping wound. After hastily wiping the blade clean and sheathing it, Hyuk Moo-jin suddenly looked up at the sky.
“It’s already night.”
Though it seemed we had departed at night, the second night had arrived while we moved in a daze.
And several more nights would have to pass before we could return to the Southern Beast Palace.
“Still, I hope we don’t encounter Blood Monk if we can help it. The commander isn’t here either, which makes me uneasy. You feel the same way, don’t you, Song Dae-hyup?”
But no answer came.
And moments later, after a brief silence, what rang out was not Song Il-seom’s voice, but the cold rasp of a blade being drawn.
Shing.
Hyuk Moo-jin, recognizing the sound echoing from behind him, swallowed hard.
“Ah, well. I apologize for saying you were stupid. Are you very angry?”
A voice, now ice-cold, came in response.
“…Shut your mouth and turn around.”
“Song Dae-hyup. Please. I’m begging you.”
“I’m the one begging. Please shut your mouth and turn around. And sheathe your blade again.”
This man had truly lost his mind.
Hyuk Moo-jin turned around on trembling legs, tears welling in his eyes.
And in that moment, he understood. Why Song Il-seom’s voice had been so cold. Why he had ordered him to draw his blade.
“I could have sworn they were on our side… Was I mistaken?”
Rustle.
The grass-covered darkness trembled.
Two tribal leaders emerged from the front of the two hundred Scouting Party members who had traveled with us until now, their expressions clouded with conflict as they regarded the group.
“It wasn’t just your mistake. I simply regret that matters have come to this.”
“We received a sealed letter. One bearing the Palace’s official seal. For us, it is a command we cannot possibly refuse.”
A sealed letter.
Upon hearing those two words, Song Il-seom dimly sensed it. Something grave had transpired in the Inner Palace we had departed from.
But more important than anything else was the existence of a single person.
“Where is the Young Mistress?”
A question laden with palpable killing intent.
The Jang Tribal Leader—who was aligned with the pro-Palace faction and had harbored goodwill toward Jin Tae-kyung since the Grand Assembly—exhaled heavily before answering.
“Her blade proved sharper than expected. Her instincts are keen as well.”
“I ask one final time. Where is she?”
A violent surge of killing intent!
Murderous aura poured forth from Song Il-seom’s entire being—a ferocious qi so savage that even the beasts among the Scouting Party recoiled.
The other tribal leader, sensing his rage, hastily opened his mouth.
“S-she is unharmed. We merely subdued her with pressure point strikes.”
Song Il-seom’s teeth clenched involuntarily. Relief and regret flooded through him simultaneously.
‘I should have remained at her side, no matter what.’
Considering the scale of the Scouting Party that had turned from ally to enemy, even if Song Il-seom had stayed behind, the outcome would likely not have differed greatly.
Yet… the image of Ju Hwa-ran struggling alone kept materializing before his eyes.
“…Damn it.”
With a curse spat like venom, Song Il-seom slowly released the spear he had gripped tightly in his hand.
And the same held true for Hyuk Moo-jin, who had grasped the situation moments later.
Scrape, thud.
The carefully honed blade sank into the earth.
As the Jang Tribal Leader gestured with a conflicted gaze, the warriors of the Scouting Party under his command rushed forward, retrieving their weapons and binding the two men.
“…Song Dae-hyup. I think we’re pretty much screwed here.”
To Hyuk Moo-jin’s muttering, Song Il-seom offered no response this time. Or rather, he could not.
Tap, tap, tap.
Fingers tapping across his body at various points. Feeling his limbs stiffen with the pressure point strikes, Song Il-seom cursed inwardly.
‘What in the world have you done, Jin Tae-kyung?’

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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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