Half a month later.
At dawn, in the forge of the Fine Craft Institute. At a time when no one should have been present, the sound of hammering echoed through the forge.
It was the young blacksmith, Bu Eunseol, who had gone from doing menial tasks to working at the Fine Craft Institute.
Clang, clang, clang.
He placed a red-hot piece of iron on the anvil and began shaping it with a hammer. With each strike of the hammer, the iron folded and stretched repeatedly.
Creak.
At that moment, the old door opened, and a figure in gray robes entered the Fine Craft Institute. It was Yuk Manho.
“Master Blacksmith,” Bu Eunseol said, setting down his hammer and bowing.
Yuk Manho raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here instead of resting in your quarters?”
“I was working on things I couldn’t finish during the day.”
“What do you mean, couldn’t finish?”
At Yuk Manho’s question, Bu Eunseol bowed his head. “The other blacksmiths don’t want me making anything…”
“Hmm.” Despite the stern orders of Master Blacksmith Yuk Manho, it seemed the blacksmiths at the Fine Craft Institute were still preventing Bu Eunseol from crafting. “So, what were you making?”
“A sickle.” Yuk Manho picked up the sickle placed beside Bu Eunseol.
“Hmm. It’s a bit heavier than the sickles made by the regular blacksmiths.” Examining it closely, he nodded. “You made the handle short and the tang long. That’s why it’s heavier. Why did you design it this way?”
“Farmers use sickles not only for crops but also for cutting light branches. This design makes it durable and long-lasting.” Yuk Manho inspected the sickle again.
It was as uniform and dense as if crafted by a seasoned blacksmith who had been making sickles for years.
‘He’s talented.’ Setting the sickle down, Yuk Manho said, “Don’t come to the forge at this hour anymore.”
Before Bu Eunseol could respond, Yuk Manho patted his shoulder and added, “I’ll have a word with the blacksmiths, so starting tomorrow, you can make tools properly.” Despite Yuk Manho’s trusting tone, Bu Eunseol only bowed with his usual expressionless face.
At noon, the Tangshan Iron House was bustling as numerous blacksmiths poured out of the forge.
It was lunchtime, and they were moving in groups to eat. A middle-aged man in brown robes watched from a stall displaying various farming tools. It was Yi Bok, the steward of the Tangshan Iron House.
“He’s definitely talented,” Yi Bok muttered, smacking his lips as he looked at a display.
On it were farming tools crafted by Bu Eunseol. Though rough in appearance, they were popular and selling quickly. When farmers were asked why they bought them, they consistently said, “The shape’s plain, but they’re easy to use,” or “They fit perfectly in the hand.”
“All excess trimmed away, made purely for function.” Having worked at the Tangshan Iron House for years, Yi Bok’s discerning eye was as sharp as any blacksmith’s.
As Master Blacksmith Yuk Manho had said, Bu Eunseol was indeed a talented young craftsman. Yet Yi Bok wasn’t entirely pleased with his tools.
“Every tool has a unique beauty in its form…” Bu Eunseol lacked the aesthetic sensibility expected of a blacksmith, crafting tools solely for function. In short, his tools reflected his blunt, inflexible personality.
“He’ll never become a great blacksmith.” Clicking his tongue, Yi Bok turned to leave when a voice called out.
“Is anyone here?” A man in light blue robes entered the Tangshan Iron House.
His gaze was cold and fierce, but Yi Bok greeted him with utmost respect, as if meeting a noble.
“What brings Master Yeon here?” The man was none other than Yeon Myeongjin, one of the five instructors teaching disciples at the Zhongnan Sect’s Tangshan Martial Academy.
“I came to have a sword repaired.”
“I see. Please, have a seat.” Despite Yeon Myeongjin’s curt tone and icy gaze, Yi Bok’s demeanor remained as deferential as if serving an elder.
This was because one of the Tangshan Iron House’s biggest clients was the disciples of the Zhongnan Sect’s Tangshan Martial Academy, who trained with swords. As an instructor of those disciples, Yeon Myeongjin wielded significant influence.
“Why did you come in person instead of sending a disciple?”
“How could I entrust my sword, an extension of myself, to a disciple?” Though only in his thirties, Yeon Myeongjin spoke to Yi Bok, well past forty, as if addressing a subordinate. “It seems I infused too much energy during practice, and the blade got damaged. It needs some work.”
The Zhongnan Sect’s sword techniques were so forceful that blades often broke or bent during training. Thus, until Zhongnan Sect warriors mastered controlling their energy and sword movements, they frequently visited forges to repair their weapons.
“May I see the sword?”
“Handle it carefully.”
“Of course.” Yi Bok took the sword from Yeon Myeongjin and cautiously removed it from its scabbard to inspect it.
While all Nine Great Sects used swords, each had slightly different designs. The Zhongnan Sect’s swords were longer and thicker than those of other sects. Yet the blade was damaged, and even the sturdy body showed slight warping.
‘He really put it through the wringer.’ Not only the blade but also the tang and hilt showed fine cracks. Though well-maintained, the signs of heavy use were unmistakable.
“Repairing it isn’t difficult, but it’ll take some time.”
“How long?”
“The blacksmiths are eating now, but we’ll start as soon as they’re done.”
“How long will it take?”
“We’ll finish by tomorrow at the latest and send it to the academy.”
“That long?” Yeon Myeongjin’s eyebrows shot up.
Yi Bok bowed and explained, “We can reforge the edge quickly, but the lateral force has damaged the blade and the fittings around the hilt.”
With a displeased expression, Yeon Myeongjin said, “Where’s the Master Blacksmith?”
“He’s gone to Zhejiang and won’t be back for a month.”
Yeon Myeongjin’s face grew more irritated. “Get a blacksmith here to finish it today. Now.”
Yi Bok looked troubled. The blacksmiths at the Iron House were skilled and proud, unlikely to drop their meals to rush a repair, no matter how much he pleaded.
“They’ve just started eating… Could you wait a bit?”
“I skipped my meal to get here quickly.”
“I see.” Suppressing his exasperation, Yi Bok bowed.
‘What a temper.’ Cautiously, he suggested, “If it’s urgent, how about taking one of our new swords for now?”
“Do you think I came here because we lack swords at the academy?”
“That’s not what I meant. I was offering a fine sword for free, Master Yeon…”
“Enough nonsense. Do you think I came to pick up a new sword?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Yi Bok hurriedly bowed.
Seeing a man past forty bow so low, Yeon Myeongjin realized his attitude had been excessive.
“I apologize. I’m on edge…” Pausing, he sighed. “Tomorrow, we have an important training session at the academy. Even an elder from our sect is attending. Do you understand?”
A weapon, like a horse, becomes attuned to its owner with use. For a warrior still perfecting their swordsmanship, the difference between a familiar sword and a new one was significant.
“I understand your situation. Let me try to persuade the blacksmiths…” As Yi Bok stood to approach the blacksmiths, a figure in gray robes walked toward them.
It was Bu Eunseol.
“Oh, a young blacksmith!” Yeon Myeongjin brightened upon seeing him. “Have him handle the repair.”
“No, he’s…” Yi Bok hesitated.
“What’s the excuse now? I’m short on time, so hand it over.” Yi Bok faltered, then fell silent.
On second thought, since Bu Eunseol could craft decent farming tools, sharpening a blade and repairing a sword shouldn’t be too difficult.
‘No, that’s still unacceptable…’ Even so, letting a Fine Craft Institute blacksmith repair a weapon was out of the question.
What if something went wrong? Who would take responsibility? But Yeon Myeongjin snatched the longsword from Yi Bok and thrust it toward Bu Eunseol.
“Here! It’s urgent, so drop everything and fix my sword first.” Bu Eunseol stared at the sword blankly before nodding.
“Understood.”
‘This guy?’ Yi Bok had expected Bu Eunseol to refuse. His brazen nod left Yi Bok dumbfounded.
“Blacksmith Bu, can you really take responsibility for this repair?”
Looking at the longsword in his hand, Bu Eunseol replied calmly, “I can finish it in two hours.”
“Two hours?” Yi Bok burst into incredulous laughter.
Repairing a martial artist’s weapon was a delicate and demanding task. Even skilled blacksmiths at the Iron House took a full day, yet this novice who made farming tools claimed he could do it in two hours?
‘Fine. This is a chance to teach him a lesson!’
“Then you’ll take full responsibility for it?” Yi Bok asked, suppressing a smirk as he handed over the sword. “If the repair fails, it’s all on you.”
A blacksmith is responsible for the items they work on. Even if Yuk Manho tried to cover for him, this wasn’t something that could be brushed off.
‘This is my chance to get rid of this thorn in my side.’ Whether Bu Eunseol knew Yi Bok’s intentions or not, he nodded calmly.
“Understood.” Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned and walked slowly toward the forge.
***
Bu Eunseol entered a small warehouse slightly removed from the Fine Craft Institute.
Thanks to Master Blacksmith Yuk Manho’s support, he was crafting farming tools, but his relationship with the other blacksmiths at the institute was strained. Thus, he worked alone in this old warehouse.
Click.
But something was odd. Instead of starting work immediately, Bu Eunseol sat still, intently examining the sword.
“…” His eyes, as he studied the sword, were solemn.
After a long time inspecting the damaged parts of the blade, a glint flashed in his eyes.
‘Most righteous sect sword techniques condense energy like dew and focus it at the tip. But this one spread energy across the entire blade while rotating it.’
He held the blade up to the light to examine the edge.
‘Instead of the tip, he used rotational force to channel sharp energy laterally, utilizing the whole blade.’ In Bu Eunseol’s mind, an image of a sword technique fiercely spinning and sweeping sideways unfolded.
‘It’s the Verdant Rain Sword, one of the Zhongnan Sect’s three great sword techniques!’
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