Murim Login - Chapter 690

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

Chapter 690
The Southern Barbarians fundamentally revered martial prowess.
Like the Han Clan of the Central Plains, they cultivated crops, raised livestock, and mined silver and gold from rivers and mountains, yet ultimately, what mattered most to them was raw power.
What use was wealth? Even if that year’s harvest overflowed with abundance and livestock filled every enclosure, strength was still required to defend them.
Warriors. And fierce beasts capable of fighting alongside those warriors.
They were swords to pierce an enemy’s heart, and shields to protect this land.
The Southern Barbarians, tempered by long centuries of struggle, understood this truth well. Even after the Five Poison Sect’s destruction and the establishment of the Southern Beast Palace, they poured considerable effort into cultivating warriors and beasts.
Whether a massive tribe or a minor one, the principle remained unchanged. Without strength, one was inevitably eliminated and destroyed.
Yo-hee, the great chieftain of the Yao Tribe counted among the Four Major Tribes, harbored no different philosophy.
If anything, her ambitions burned brighter, driving her to greater zeal than other tribal leaders.
She invested the treasures and gold she received in exchange for overlooking Baek Sang’s actions into military might.
She recruited talented young men and trained them as warriors, studied the strengths and weaknesses of various beasts, and even refined their bloodlines through selective breeding.
But….
A rustling sound.
The moment Yo-hee beheld that creature rising from the shadows, despite having faced countless beasts throughout her life, her heart plummeted into an abyss.
“…!”
Was this what it felt like to be struck by lightning through the crown of one’s head?
In truth, no beast could rival an elephant in sheer size and strength.
With a body like a small hill and a long, thick trunk powerful enough to snap trees, its sharp tusks could pierce even armor.
Yet that creature—the Black Tiger—was different.
Yo-hee could sense it. An immense, overwhelming presence radiating from the black tiger unlike anything she had ever witnessed.
‘This, this is….’
It was not merely a matter of size or appearance.
If an elephant was a small hill, then that Black Tiger was Tae-san itself.
Though it lacked the elephant’s long, thick trunk and sharp tusks, merely standing there radiated such overwhelming power that it could cleave and crush all things.
The word “beast” could not describe it. A spirit creature? That fell equally short.
The Black Tiger before her eyes now emanated an aura far deeper and more overwhelming than any spirit creature.
‘What on earth is that….’
As Yo-hee swallowed hard, a chilling breeze flowed outward from the Black Tiger, sweeping across the surroundings.
Whoooosh.
Grass and flowers filling the entire expanse bowed low, and the clear water in the small pond rippled.
A memory suddenly surfaced in Yo-hee’s mind as the wind swept across her entire body.
‘This wind—I’ve felt it before. Twice, in fact.’
At the time, she had paid it no mind, but now understanding dawned.
Just before losing consciousness from the ring Hyuk-ung had given her, and when she first opened her eyes in that incomprehensible vast space, this same wind had blown.
‘Then could it be that the one who saved us from Hyuk-ung was….’
As that thought reached her, Yo-hee’s eyelids trembled slightly.
Yet before she could even open her mouth, the Black Tiger—whose pale blue eyes resembled Mu Ya-ho’s—turned its massive form and disappeared behind the Ancient Tree, regarding the unexpected visitor in silent observation.
Whoooosh.
And with it, the wind gradually subsided.
Though belated, Yo-hee cautiously approached the Ancient Tree, yet Black Tiger was nowhere to be found beneath its sprawling canopy.
He had vanished.
Like a phantom—without the faintest trace or sign of his presence.
“…!”
How was this possible?
She felt as though possessed by a ghost. Had it not been for Mu Ya-ho’s cry that reached her ears the next moment, she might have stood rooted to that spot with a vacant expression for far longer.
–
A low rumble.
A soft thud.
With the sound came a damp nose pressing against her elbow.
Yo-hee lifted her head abruptly, as though waking from a dream, and recalled the existence of someone she had momentarily forgotten.
‘Jin Tae-kyung.’
Her mind remained tangled with unresolved thoughts, yet something more pressing demanded her attention now.
Yo-hee rushed toward the Sacred Pond and first examined Jin Tae-kyung’s condition.
Shallow breath flowing through his nose and mouth. Fortunately, he had simply fallen into deep sleep from accumulated exhaustion, and his state was not dire.
In fact, he seemed far improved from the last time she had seen him.
‘Is it just my imagination?’
Yo-hee tilted her head and grasped both of Jin Tae-kyung’s arms.
Even the clearest water would seep into wounds and hinder recovery. She needed to pull him from the pond onto dry ground, as he was already half-submerged.
And just as Yo-hee exerted force to lift his body—
A tap.
A snow-white paw covered the back of her hand. Catching the meaning behind the gesture, she asked.
“You want me to leave him alone?”
–
A deep growl.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot do that….”
–
A fierce snarl!
A scrape, then a splash!
It happened in an instant. Yo-hee tumbled into the Sacred Pond, struck by sudden pain, and stared at Baek Ho with wide, startled eyes.
A sharp, stinging pain radiated from the back of her hand.
Blood from where the beast’s keen claws had raked across her skin now stained the water’s surface crimson.
‘Why on earth?’
Yet her shock at the unexpected turn of events was short-lived. Soon enough, Yo-hee understood why this remarkably intelligent Baek Ho had acted as he did.
A soft whisper.
“The wounds… they’re healing?”
Precisely so. She stared wide-eyed at the back of her own hand as it mended within the clear water.
The torn flesh gradually knitted together, and the flowing blood ceased.
Slowly, yet unmistakably.
A phenomenon so wondrous that the pain of the healing process itself was forgotten.
As Yo-hee lifted her hand to observe the miraculous sight more closely, the healing flesh ceased its recovery, and faint blood began to seep forth once more.
‘The Sacred Pond. My hand stopped touching the Sacred Pond.’
This time, her conjecture was precise. The moment she submerged her hand in the Sacred Pond again, Yo-hee watched the wound begin to close and murmured softly.
“…A Sacred Pond that heals wounds.”
Even the legendary elixir of legend—the Essence of Void Clarity—which granted a decade of cultivation with but a single drop, paled in comparison to this. Yet she found herself no longer astonished.
She had witnessed and felt everything with her own eyes.
This strange space that defied explanation even by the four characters of the Qimen Formation. The inexplicable existence of the Black Tiger and the wound on her hand that had healed without a trace.
Now she understood why Mu Ya-ho, who had suffered a sword wound to the nape of his neck, had survived unscathed.
“That’s why you stopped me. He would recover faster if he remained in the Sacred Pond.”
–
A low rumble.
Mu Ya-ho, releasing a faint cry, slowly licked the back of his paw.
Yo-hee, observing the spirit beast’s gesture of apology, opened her mouth.
“Then that Black Tiger who vanished earlier saved us? It healed you and Jin Tae-kyung as well?”
A vigorous nod. Confirming her suspicion, Yo-hee poured forth questions in succession.
“What is the reason? Do you know what that Black Tiger is, who its master is? Where is this place?”
Mu Ya-ho hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
Merely seven days prior, when Mu Ya-ho had followed the Beast King Miao Wang and Jin Tae-kyung toward Ai-nao Mountain, he had encountered the Black Tiger once before. Yet even for a spirit beast of innate power, the Black Tiger’s existence remained an incomprehensible mystery.
“Sigh. You don’t know much either.”
–
A sorrowful whine.
“It’s alright.”
As Yo-hee stroked the despondent Mu Ya-ho’s neck, her mind churned with complexity. There was far too little information to make sense of anything.
Where was this place? How much time had passed? And…when would Jin Tae-kyung regain consciousness?
Yet one consolation remained: this Black Tiger of unknown origin had shown them benevolence.
‘At the very least, it has no connection to Dark Heaven. If it did, we would all be dead.’
Yo-hee’s gaze, drifting inwardly, suddenly fixed upon a single figure.
Half-submerged in water, motionless as a corpse.
Jin Tae-kyung, oblivious to the events unfolding around him, lay in profound slumber with an expression of perfect serenity.
‘If it had been me who collapsed instead…if Jin Tae-kyung had remained conscious, all our problems would have been resolved.’
Perhaps it was an uncertain thought born of desperation. Yet Yo-hee had come to trust Jin Tae-kyung deeply.
A man of such exceptional martial prowess and virtue as to vanquish two supreme masters single-handedly.
He merely wore the mantle of Tribal Chief. Unlike herself, a traitor in all but name, he had devoted himself entirely to protecting the Southern Wilderness from peril. How could she not trust him?
‘If Baek Sang and Dark Heaven have begun their true offensive, the Yalyu Palace Master alone cannot stand against them. Time is running short.’
Most of Yo-hee’s anxieties were manifesting into reality.
In the passage of time unknown to her, the Beast King Miao Wang, branded a traitor, had fled the Southern Beast Palace, now transformed into enemy territory, and vanished without trace. The entire Southern Wilderness churned like molten iron upon coals.
Or perhaps it was magma that would consume even the iron itself.
Warriors from each tribe, answering the general mobilization order, marched in succession toward the Outer Palace. The Miao Clan, with all its leadership imprisoned, held its breath in chaos. And in a secret place unknown to any, the Nantian Demon Empress stood on the threshold of completing her grand design, smiling brilliantly.
Yet Yo-hee knew none of this, nor could she have known. Trapped in this incomprehensible space, she could only pray.
‘If heaven exists, then please…’
I prayed desperately—let him wake, even a moment sooner. I would gladly perish if it meant rousing him from that deep slumber.
But with her eyes squeezed shut in fervent prayer, Yo-hee failed to perceive the subtle yet unmistakable change unfolding before her.
Tap.
A finger stirred with infinitesimal movement. Concentric ripples spread across the water’s surface, expanding gradually, then further still.
* * *
I was dreaming.
The reason I could recognize it as a dream was simple.
The moment my eyes opened, I saw a face so achingly familiar—a voice too, one that time had been slowly stealing away.
“Oh, what brings you awake at this hour? Why aren’t you sleeping more?”
In that instant, my throat tightened and my chest grew heavy.
I greeted him while fighting back tears that surged unbidden.
It’s been so long, Father.
But against my will, the words that spilled from my lips were thick with drowsiness.
“I don’t know. I just woke up.”
Then I understood.
My role in this dream was merely that of an observer, watching over old memories.
And Father, unaware of this truth, simply smiled warmly.
“You rascal, this is touching. How did you know Dad was heading to work? How did this sleepyhead’s eyes open on their own? Hmm?”
Rough fingers poked playfully at my cheek. The younger me grumbled at the trivial teasing.
“Ah, stop. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Come on. Why sleep more? The sun’s already high.”
“What time is it?”
“Six o’clock. The perfect time to start the day, wouldn’t you say?”
“No. It really doesn’t seem right.”
The younger me buried my face in the pillow, and Father, chuckling heartily, rose from his seat.
“Sleep well, son. Dad’s heading to work.”
“Huh? It’s only six and you’re leaving already?”
“I have to go to the provinces early. I might be back late today.”
I repeated endlessly in my mind.
I can’t let him go like this. Father, please don’t leave. Please.
But the younger me was different. I was small, naive.
I didn’t know this moment would become my last memory with Father.
“Yes. Have a safe trip.”
A single phrase uttered in a sleep-drunk voice.
Seeing me like that, Father smiled warmly and ruffled my hair with an affectionate hand.
“Right. See you later.”
That was all. Father would turn away, and soon the door would close. Hours later, I would be called to the principal’s office.
If my memory served, that’s exactly what would happen.
But…
“By the way, son.”
“…!”
A voice suddenly pierced my ears, and I jolted upright.
This was no longer the act of my past self, but something that had unfolded by my own will as I’d entered my late twenties, and Father tapped the watch on his wrist with a chuckle before speaking.
“Shouldn’t you be getting up soon?”
In that instant.
Crack.
Everything surrounding me crumbled and shattered.
The familiar ceiling and room. Father’s face. All of it. And simultaneously, something cold engulfed my entire body.
Splash!
Through the spray of water scattering in all directions, I could see a woman’s wide-open eyes. Immediately after, a trembling voice pierced my ears.
“…How…”
Who knows.
I cursed inwardly. Like that foolish, naive boy in the dream that still felt vividly real.
I have no idea. I just woke up.

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