Chapter 1176

Login—or Logout.

Like the games I played as a kid, crossing an invisible boundary between two worlds had become familiar to me.

The moment everything around me vanished and my vision went dark, I found myself alone.

In darkness so deep I couldn’t see an inch ahead.

Of course, it never lasted long.

An unknown force would soon take hold of my consciousness and lead it somewhere. At the end of that journey, the light of a new world would be waiting.

But why?

Something’s different.

I sensed it instinctively. What startled me was that even after the thought crossed my mind, the darkness remained.

Why?

The process, the sensations—both had become as familiar as breathing. Now they felt strange.

By now, my consciousness should have crossed from the modern world into Murim. Then I would regain my usual senses and awareness in the other body I’d been apart from. That was the routine.

But this time, everything was different.

The darkness and silence went on for what felt like an eternity.

Then, at the end of that suffocating wait, came the pull.

Whoooosh.

As if caught in a massive tornado, my consciousness was sucked toward depths I couldn’t begin to fathom.

I clung with all my strength to the thread of my consciousness as a pull more powerful than anything I’d ever felt threatened to shake it loose.

Damn it. What the hell is this?

If my previous trips had been rides in a limousine, this one was a locomotive.

A broken-down runaway locomotive hurtling down rusted, misaligned tracks, with no engineer to control its speed.

Stop!

The cry rang out in my mind before I could help it.

But a school bully rotten to the core wouldn’t stop tormenting someone at a single shout. Neither did the powerful wave carrying my consciousness toward who knew where.

And at the end of that insane ride—

Whooosh!

Darkness split apart as though torn open. A shaft of light brighter than any I’d seen before burst through and swallowed my vision.

With it came a voice, carried to me through senses that had snapped sharply into focus.

“You’ve come back.”

He hadn’t asked if I was awake.

He’d asked if I’d come back.

Leaving the frantic ordeal behind me, I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the owner of the voice.

Bells were ringing one after another, beginning with a System message announcing that Login had succeeded. But his voice fell on my ears like spring rain.

“Yes, Master.”

Master.

At the ease with which the title came from my lips, the Fire King, Jeok Cheongang, widened his eyes.

Then they curved gently, like a full moon.

“Yes. Good to have you back.”

At long last, I was in Murim.

The joy of our reunion was brief.

More precisely, there was no need to draw it out.

People who knew each other better than anyone else didn’t need many words. Jeok Cheongang and I had been like that for a long time.

And for that very reason, he must have noticed right away that something was wrong with me.

“So, what kind of dogshit situation has happened this time?”

“Are you psychic? How’d you know?”

“Look at yourself. How could I not?”

“What about me? I—oh.”

Only then did I realize I was drenched in cold sweat.

It had soaked through my clothes and even the bedding beneath me. So much for having reached the realm of Unaffected by Cold and Heat a long time ago.

“When did this start?”

“A little while ago. You were groaning so much I thought you might shit yourself.”

“…”

Where had that warm feeling from a moment ago gone? Was it just me, or did the air smell like a public restroom now?

I grimaced and answered, “Hard to say. More than one thing comes to mind. Anyway, where’s everyone else?”

That was what I’d wanted to ask first.

No matter how I looked around, Jeok Cheongang was the only face I could see. And aside from the snorting of the horses pulling us along, I couldn’t sense anyone nearby.

His answer made my already-prickling nerves go cold.

“Gone.”

“…!”

My heart dropped with a thud. That was exactly how it felt.

“Gone?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“I said they’re gone.”

“So they were here, but—”

“Ah, they’re gone! Right now!”

Jeok Cheongang snapped, then continued.

“To be precise, they all left about one shichen¹ ago. They needed to scout the area and find a place to camp tonight. They’ll probably be back soon.”

What the hell?

I stared at him in silence. My heart had long since returned to its proper place.

“You should’ve said that first.”

“Look at this disrespectful brat. You’re the one who didn’t listen to the end. How’s that my fault?”

As Jeok Cheongang glared at me, I turned my head slightly to the side.

Outside the large, beautiful eight-horse carriage the emperor of the Great Nation—no, the Great Ming Empire—had bestowed on me alone, darkness covered the world.

“By the way, where are we…?”

“Xinjiang.”

Xinjiang.

The vastest land under heaven, and a Land of Ruin no one had dared invade for ages.

While I’d been away from Murim, the journey that began in Qinghai had finally brought us here.

Even now, grains of sand trickled through the gaps in the carriage, proof that we were deep in the heart of Xinjiang.

“The Taklamakan Desert.”

Jeok Cheongang muttered the name, then spat out the sand that had gotten into his mouth.

“Damn desert. When I think of all the hell I’ve been through for nearly a month, I really…”

I didn’t hear the rest.

Not because he’d trailed off, or because of the fierce sandstorm beating against the carriage window.

A month. A whole month has already passed?

I’d spent less than a week in the modern world.

Yet a month had passed in Murim during those few days.

The axis of time has gone out of alignment. Beyond the point of no return.

I’d already suspected as much.

When I returned to the modern world after fighting the Blood Lord in Qinghai, I’d realized the time ratio was badly off.

But foreboding was one thing when it stayed in my head. Seeing it become reality was another.

Tick. Tick.

The cold ticking of the [Broken Pocket Watch] I’d tucked deep in my Inventory just before logging in seemed to ring in my ears like a phantom sound.

But… maybe it’s a good thing this much time has passed. It means we’re that much closer to our destination.

A month was no short stretch of time.

Especially given the situation the world faced now.

But unlike the modern world, which had suffered terrible damage in just ten days since Morgoth’s arrival, there hadn’t been any significant damage here yet.

Or at least, that was how it felt at the moment.

Whether I’d still think so after asking my next question was another matter.

“While I was asleep, did anything…?”

“You mean, did anything happen? No. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Jeok Cheongang answered without hesitation, as if he’d known what I was going to ask. His voice dropped as he added, “It’s so peaceful it feels strange.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. The sky is murky and impossible to predict. One moment it’s snow or rain, the next it’s heat that could melt you, or even hail. But aside from that, there’s nothing.”

That wasn’t particularly surprising.

The sudden climate changes were happening in both the modern world and Murim, and they were nothing new by now.

Besides, this was Xinjiang, where the Lord of Heaven had holed up. If anything, the changes here would be worse, not better.

What caught my attention was the last thing Jeok Cheongang had said.

“Nothing at all?”

“That’s right. None of us thought much of it on the first day. But it didn’t take long for everyone, this old man included, to notice.”

And when Jeok Cheongang went on to explain, I realized there wasn’t the slightest exaggeration or lie in what he’d said.

“At first, nobody paid it any mind. We were busy taking turns scouting the area every half shichen¹ and standing watch through the night.”

That was only natural.

This was Xinjiang.

The thousand-year Sacred Land of the Hundred Thousand Demonic Disciples, who’d once swept across the land, and the base of Dark Heaven.

Dark Heaven had unleashed bloodshed across the Central Plains. It wouldn’t have been surprising if they’d turned Xinjiang, practically their own front yard, into a sea of blood.

“But strangely, it was quiet. None of those crazy fanatics who’d swarmed us like a pack of dogs in Qinghai. None of those monsters that defied all reason. Not even a band of common mounted bandits. At first, I thought maybe the bastards were scared.”

It wasn’t arrogance or carelessness that had led him to think so.

Just before we set out from Qinghai, the emperor and the leaders of the alliance army—the foremost figures of Murim—had divided a force of well over a hundred thousand into three groups. We were one of them.

Our group numbered fewer than twenty. But look at who was in it.

Two Stars and the strongest of the Ten Kings.

The Bow Saint, the Slaughter Saint, and the Fire King, who stood shoulder to shoulder with them.

Even with me unconscious, those three alone were more than enough to be called an army.

“But the very next day, I realized I’d been wrong from the start.”

Jeok Cheongang muttered in a low voice, then suddenly jerked his chin toward the window.

“Do you see?”

“What are you—”

I frowned at the gesture, then stopped mid-sentence.

In that instant, I understood.

Beyond the window, the vast desert stretched into the darkness, filled with nothing but sand.

At the same time, not a sound could be heard.

“Could it be…?”

“That’s right.”

Jeok Cheongang continued, his voice heavy and subdued.

“There isn’t a single living thing in this land.”