Chapter 64 : Murim Alliance Smithy (1)

Chapter 64: Murim Alliance Smithy (1)

The next day.

Before he realized it, the sun had already risen high in the sky.

Creak—! With a loud noise, the inn’s doors swung wide open.

Sewoon stretched as he walked outside.

Although Sewoon usually carried out his routine from early dawn, today he was moving only in the late afternoon.

‘Hmph, the higher my mastery of poisons grows, the harder it becomes to get drunk. That’s the real pity here.’

It was because last night, he had been dragged into an unplanned drinking bout by Jang Sopyeong, who wouldn’t stop rambling about friendship, and only returned after it was over.

As Sewoon began wandering aimlessly through the streets of Kaifeng, no one was by his side.

Yeo Seon was still sprawled out at the inn, snoring away. His sister, Tang Serin, had received word from her old friends in Kaifeng and, leaving behind a note saying she would just show her face and return as quickly as possible, had already left the inn early in the morning.

But to Sewoon, this was rather a good thing.

As he had said to the two yesterday, he had no intention of rushing to the Murim Alliance right away.

‘My sister has suffered enough until now. She deserves to rest in peace of mind for a while.’

Whether it was Yeo Seon or Tang Serin, he truly wanted them to spend their time freely.

Sewoon himself also intended to spend today recovering from the lingering fatigue of travel and poisons, taking a proper rest.

“Hey, young man! Try one of these sweets! They’re delicious!”

“Sir, today our inn’s chef has prepared a special braised pork. How about it for lunch?”

“Bet your money and win double back! Guess right and the pot is yours!”

Soaking in the peaceful sights of Kaifeng with his eyes,

Sewoon strolled leisurely.

But before long, his expression darkened, his thoughts sinking deep.

‘The Beggars’ Sect gave better results than expected. With this, just resolving one of the two remaining will be enough.’

It wasn’t that he had changed his mind about enjoying some leisure.

It was simply impossible to do so.

For one who had experienced war could never return to the innocence of before.

Kyaaa!

Screeech!

The peaceful sights of Kaifeng overlapped in his vision with the hellish devastation under Blood Cult’s occupation in his past life.

‘……Calm yourself, Tang Sewoon. This isn’t real.’

Clenching his teeth as if they would crack, Sewoon forcibly redirected his mind.

Fortunately, the afterimages slowly faded.

Feeling relieved, he began reviewing his next plan regarding the Murim Alliance.

‘Hmm, I can’t reach the Plum Blossom side yet. Targeting the old monk would be wiser. Then, the only remaining problem is the Great Elder….’

The seat of the Divine Physician was firmly occupied by Boyeon Divine Nun.

But the position of Divine Craftsman remained vacant.

Still, there were two figures in the Central Plains considered the closest to that level.

‘Baek Myogong and Heuk Yagong.’

Baek Myogong, Seo Jungdal, the Master of White Night Iron Gang, the greatest smithy in the Central Plains, hailed as the World’s Greatest Craftsman.

And closely trailing him, the Second Greatest Craftsman under Heaven: Heuk Yagong, Dong Cheonrip, who commanded the smithy of the Murim Alliance Headquarters.

And—

It was Great Elder Dong Cheonrip who oversaw the rights to use the Alliance’s smithy, the reward Sewoon had requested.

In truth, when Sewoon proposed three conditions to the Murim Alliance, he had half-expected that permission to use the smithy would be rejected.

‘That Heuk Yagong would never allow some successor of a minor sect, one he doesn’t even acknowledge as a smith, to use his smithy.’

That reason alone accounted for nearly all of his doubts.

Since Sewoon saw himself closer to a blacksmith than a martial artist, he knew one thing well:

For those who lived as blacksmiths, their so-called ‘pride’ could just as well be read as ‘ego.’

No matter how grave a mistake the Murim Alliance had made against someone, that alone wouldn’t make Dong Cheonrip allow such a person into his forge.

– “…As an Elder of the Murim Alliance, I will settle it directly with Great Elder.”

But thanks to the persistent effort of Mount Emei’s Geum Hwa Sa-tae, Dong Cheonrip had granted permission.

Thus, Sewoon had been invited to the Murim Alliance far quicker than expected.

Even so, Sewoon could already guess.

No—he was certain.

Dong Cheonrip’s permission would be a half-permission at best.

Even if he were allowed inside and handed a hammer—

The true ‘fire’ would surely be barred from him.

– Hmph, you asked to borrow the smithy, didn’t you? Not the fire.

Sewoon was certain those words would come from Dong Cheonrip’s mouth.

‘But I absolutely need that forge fire.’

Yet he could not give up.

The reason he demanded access to the Murim Alliance smithy was precisely because of the special-grade forge fire only smiths recognized by Dong Cheonrip were allowed to use.

To create new divine artifacts, that flame was indispensable.

‘Hmm, to use that forge, I’ll need to leave a deep impression on Dong Cheonrip as a blacksmith….’

As Sewoon’s thoughts grew heavier—

Sewoon furrowed his brow in irritation.

That gloomy voice of a man echoed by his ear.

Truth was, he had been ignoring it, but the muttering had been going on ceaselessly from earlier.

“Damn it, stop grumbling in my head already.”

Sewoon snapped, glaring at the empty ground.

But this wasn’t muttering to himself.

It was directed at the assassin hiding in his own shadow on the ground.

At Nameless.

Sewoon let out a hollow laugh at his ridiculous reply.

“No, why the hell have you been making a fuss since yesterday?”

“Who in their right mind bonds in brotherhood with an assassin who tried to kill them?”

“Oh, really? What kind of misunderstanding involves stabbing someone in the flesh?”

Nameless faltered at Sewoon’s retort but soon protested again.

“I told you, I don’t need that kind of concession.”

“Who told you to hide in my shadow in the first place? You chose that yourself.”

The trembling of Nameless inside the shadow was transmitted as it was.

Sewoon barely managed to suppress the laugh that threatened to escape.

When else could he enjoy such a small pleasure of teasing an old companion?

It was at that moment, as Sewoon walked down the street—

Murmur, murmur.

‘Hm?’

The path ahead was so crowded that not even one person could squeeze through.

Before a wall, people had gathered like a swarm of clouds.

“What’s this, such good fortune?!”

“They say if you have experience, you’ll be hired on the spot just by showing up?”

“Ha, if you get hired, it’s a chance for instant riches….”

“You think support work is easy? Why do you think they plastered those notices on every wall in Kaifeng?”

“Right, it’s tough work, that’s why the old workers all ran off.”

“I hear the boss here is nasty as hell, too.”

“Mm, still… it really is a great opportunity….”

It seemed the commotion was because of some notice posted on the wall.

What could be written there to cause such an uproar?

Swoosh—

Sewoon slipped into the crowd naturally and checked the notice’s contents.

‘This is…!’

A strange gleam shone in his eyes.

For some reason, his lips curled into a faint smile.

Just as quietly as he had slipped in, Sewoon slipped back out of the crowd.

As Sewoon stepped into a secluded alley, a hand reached out of his shadow.

The moment he received the Human-Skin Mask from Nameless’ hand—

He snatched the mask and immediately drove him away.

Nameless was dumbfounded, but Sewoon had no choice.

With him tagging along, Sewoon couldn’t enter his next destination.

The notice posted on the wall had read:

< Murim Alliance Smithy, Recruiting Blacksmith Assistants in Bulk >

“Alright, new assistants, line up here.”

“Yes, sir!!”

The Vice-Blacksmith of the Alliance Headquarters smithy led the newly recruited assistants inside that morning.

The dozen or so newcomers were tense, their spines stiff, sweat dripping down their faces.

The Vice-Blacksmith clicked his tongue at the sight.

‘Haa, not a single decent one among them.’

Because of the urgent recruitment, the newcomers’ quality was poor.

But there was no choice.

Three days ago, every single first-year blacksmith apprentice had deserted overnight, forcing such a rushed intake.

At that moment, the Vice-Blacksmith’s brows furrowed.

‘What’s with that guy?’

Among the nervous recruits, one stood with his weight on one leg.

The Vice-Blacksmith tried to memorize his face, but it was oddly forgettable, plain as any street passerby.

‘Tch, they’ll all quit soon anyway.’

Thinking so, he raised his voice.

“What are you standing around for! If introductions are over, get to your stations! Work starts now!”

“Yes, sir!!”

Soon, the recruits were distributed to the senior blacksmiths working in the smithy.

And the limping one was assigned to Palmo, a senior blacksmith.

“My name is Unhwi.”

“I don’t care about your name. Start pumping the bellows.”

Palmo didn’t spare the newcomer even a glance, his tone cold.

The new assistants’ duty was simple:

While the senior blacksmiths forged, they pumped the bellows to keep the flames steady.

Though it seemed simple, regulating the fire’s strength affected the work directly, making it one of the most important tasks.

Usually, only after one or two years of working together could blacksmith and assistant produce quality results.

Naturally, Palmo had no expectation these rookies would be of use.

‘Hmph, just endure a little longer. In a week, White Night Iron Gang will send reinforcements….’

The Murim Alliance, aware of this unprecedented situation, had paid several times the wage to hire new blacksmiths from White Night Iron Gang.

Until their arrival, the headquarters smithy would only handle repairs of practice weapons.

But then—

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

The new assistant pumped the bellows with flawless rhythm, without the slightest error.

‘Huh? That bellows work is actually… impressive.’

“What are you doing? Not going to hammer?”

“Ah! S-sorry.”

Startled, Palmo began hammering.

As he worked, a thought struck him suddenly.

Wait, why did I just apologize to that kid?

“Damn it, you keep spacing out.”

“Ah, right.”

But every time Palmo’s focus wavered—

Unhwi’s voice struck his mind with the perfect advice at the perfect time.

And strangely—

It reminded Palmo of the way he himself had once been tormented by his own senior blacksmith….

“Ssshh!”