Chapter 65 : Murim Alliance Smithy (2)

Chapter 65: Murim Alliance Smithy (2)

“Ha, you’re doing this again. Can’t you pull yourself together?”

“Huff, huff! I-I’m sorry!”

Unhwi.

No, it was actually Palmo who was losing his wits under Sewoon’s scolding, while Sewoon wore the Human-Skin Mask.

In other places, the senior blacksmiths were all handling the apprentices like prey under their claws.

But here, it was the exact opposite—the senior was being devoured by the apprentice.

Kang!

Ka-kang!

Palmo, whose nervousness was written all over his face, finally slipped with his hammer, and Sewoon bellowed.

“The rhythm of forging is breaking apart! Do you intend to make trash for the client?”

“I’ll correct it!”

Before he knew it, Palmo had regressed from a seasoned blacksmith of fifteen years into the clumsy apprentice he once was.

It was as if he had fallen under some bizarre spell from heretical arts (방문좌도), and there was only one reason such a strange thing had occurred.

Sssaa!

The mysterious aura that unconsciously poured out from Sewoon’s entire body.

Palmo was unknowingly overwhelmed by the manifestation of Innate True Qi.

With Golden Bridle Movement Technique and Reverse Heaven Qi strengthening it day by day, the power of Innate True Qi was naturally affecting not only Sewoon’s body but also everything around him.

Especially now—Innate True Qi raised the very “presence” a person exuded to a level incomparable to before.

It was not as directly forceful as when one’s Qi pressured a weaker opponent of a lower realm.

But the stronger one’s innate presence became under Innate True Qi, the more those nearby were suppressed by that pressure without even realizing it.

Even though Sewoon did not intend it, he also carried the experience of temporarily commanding the smithy of the Blood Cult before his regression.

That smithy was larger than both Baekya Iron Workshop and the Murim Alliance smithy combined, and the blacksmiths there—being Demonic Practitioners—were all lunatics.

Yet Sewoon had completely subjugated every last one of them, without exception. It was only natural that Palmo was overwhelmed like this.

‘Hmm, so this is all the skill the Murim Alliance’s senior blacksmith has to show for himself…’

The pitifully low level of skill shocked Sewoon—it was far beneath what he expected.

But in truth, whether it was a senior blacksmith of the Alliance or anyone else, before Sewoon it was nothing more than a child playing at crafts.

For before his regression, he had been the one and only Demonic Craftsman, a Divine Craftsman of the era.

Still, Sewoon was not just trying to frighten and scold.

A subtle gleam flickered in his eyes as he worked the bellows.

“Yes, that’s it. Let your body follow that flow.”

Even with something as simple as stoking the bellows, Sewoon was guiding Palmo—

drawing out all the hidden talent and potential he possessed as a blacksmith.

And that effort eventually bore fruit.

Kang!

Kang!

‘Ah… Ahhh!’

Palmo experienced for the first time the ecstasy of Unity of Self and Forge.

In that moment, he realized that all the smithing he had done in his life until now had been hollow.

By surrendering his body and mind to Sewoon’s guidance, he had received an enlightenment that should only have come in the distant future.

Kaaaang!

With the clear ring of the hammer, the practice longsword he was forging began to emit an extraordinary brilliance.

Palmo had managed to create something beyond his natural talent—

a masterpiece of his lifetime.

‘Did I… really make this?’

Staring at the work he had forged, Palmo blinked blankly, unable to believe it.

Watching him, Sewoon gave a small nod.

“Well, it’s not half bad.”

Ugh!

At those words, Palmo felt his heart surge violently.

The fact that he had been recognized by him filled him with both elation and pride.

At the same time, the tension drained from his body, and his vision began to blur.

‘Th-thank… you…’

He wanted to say that.

But Palmo’s lips only opened and closed wordlessly.

Thud, thump!

He staggered and collapsed sideways on the spot.

He had exhausted all his Mental Power by drawing on strength beyond his natural talent.

The sudden noise startled the other blacksmiths, and they all turned their heads.

“Huh? H-hey?”

“P-Palmo?! What the hell!”

“Vice-Blacksmith! Vice-Blacksmith! Palmo collapsed!”

“What?!”

When they confirmed he was lying unconscious, everyone’s eyes widened as they rushed over.

“Wait, this guy didn’t even catch a cold in the dead of winter—why now?!”

“I-I don’t know either.”

“Damn it, we’ve no choice. Take him to the Physician’s Hall! Quick, grab his arms and legs!”

“Yes, sir!”

Palmo was such a massive man that it took five blacksmiths just to haul him to the Physician’s Hall.

The sudden incident threw the smithy into chaos.

Both seniors and apprentices were at a complete loss.

Clack.

Meanwhile, Sewoon quietly picked up the hammer Palmo had dropped.

A clear gleam shone in his eyes.

“Well then, shall we begin in earnest?”

In the Murim Alliance’s main smithy, it was unheard of for an apprentice—or worse, a temporary assistant—to ever touch the hammer.

But Sewoon twirled Palmo’s hammer lightly in one hand, limbering his wrist before starting the work.

Then, as if it had always been his, he adjusted the anvil and furnace.

So natural was his demeanor that not a single blacksmith thought it strange.

‘These tools are far better than even those of the Tang Clan’s…’

As he examined the state of the equipment, Sewoon’s gaze shifted.

At the far end of the smithy, in the chief blacksmith’s seat, stood the largest furnace of all.

It was the Scorching Furnace, possessed only by Baekya Iron Workshop and the Murim Alliance in all the Central Plains.

The Scorching Furnace was a special furnace that drew on the power of sorcery and formations to enhance the forging process.

Like a predator eyeing its prey, Sewoon’s eyes gleamed sharply as he looked at it.

‘Only in that furnace can I forge a Divine Weapon.’

Indeed. Everything Sewoon was about to do now was mere groundwork to make use of that furnace.

Having finished his preparations, Sewoon reached for the pile of materials beside him.

He picked up a practice saber with a chipped blade.

Sewoon only had practice weapons, just like Palmo, to use as materials.

It might have seemed insufficient to prove a blacksmith’s true skill and technique.

‘But these are more than enough.’

Sewoon actually welcomed it.

Some would belittle him, asking what could possibly be shown by refining such trivial practice weapons.

But in the hands of a blacksmith, no tool was ever insignificant.

For every weapon carried fragments of its master’s life within it.

Earlier, Palmo had forged a practice longsword into a “Low-Grade Treasure Weapon” imbued with the power of “Detection.”

In that case, Sewoon thought to himself…

‘If not a Divine Weapon, then at least a High-Grade Treasure Weapon should be enough to uphold my dignity.’

Treasure Weapon.

Though ranked below Divine Weapons, the moment such a weapon appeared in the jianghu, fierce battles for its ownership always erupted, for its abilities were extraordinary.

The most recent High-Grade Treasure Weapon had been the Thunderbolt Sword, forged a month ago by Seo Joongdal of the Hundred Cat Workshop, commissioned by the Namgung Clan, after over a year of painstaking labor.

Yet astonishingly, Sewoon was declaring that he would forge such a weapon not in months or years, but right here, right now.

‘Good. Let’s do it here.’

Gripping the hammer, Sewoon assumed the forging stance.

Sssaa!

The dormant energy in his entire meridian system stirred awake, slowly boiling up with heat.

Soon, the Golden Bridle Movement Technique began revolving, driving his Golden Bridle Qi with fierce momentum.

Sewoon swung the hammer, wrapped in Golden Bridle Qi, down onto the anvil.

Kang!

Kang!

Clear hammer blows rang out, like the tolling of bells.

Unlike before, Sewoon did not use the power of Divine Weapon Creation.

For a Treasure Weapon, Divine Weapon Creation was unnecessary.

Instead, as he forged, Sewoon studied the remnants of the saber’s previous master embedded within the blade.

The unique grip wear, shaped by how the wielder distributed strength.

The chips and scars on the blade from mistakes during martial arts training.

From these countless traces—ones only a blacksmith could read—he reconstructed the life of its owner.

‘A saber art centered on dominance and force. Ferocious and relentless, like a tiger endlessly slashing at prey with its claws.’

Kang!

Kakang!

With each hammer strike, the practice saber was reborn anew.

To an outsider, it would have seemed unchanged, aside from the repaired chips.

But even the smallest change could alter everything.

Just as a lump of stone became a beautiful statue in the hands of a sculptor.

‘If it is a saber art of continuous domineering strikes, then the Treasure Weapon must carry the power of Wind, to further empower its master.’

Thus, the practice saber was transforming into its true, hidden form.

Clang.

At last, Sewoon ceased hammering.

He raised the saber above his head, examining it closely.

“Hmmm.”

Though it was his own creation, he scrutinized it with utmost severity.

Then—

Sewoon finally smiled in satisfaction.

“Good. This will be perfect bait.”

Sssaaa!

The saber in his hands exuded a blue, razor-edged aura visible only to him.

If anyone else had witnessed this scene, they would have been struck dumb.

For the impossible had become reality—

What had taken the greatest smith of the age an entire year…

Sewoon had accomplished not in a day, not even half a day—

but in barely a single hour.

Fortunately, the surrounding blacksmiths and apprentices remained oblivious.

He had crafted the weapon such that its aura would not leak out to anyone but its wielder.

Carrying the completed saber, Sewoon moved with graceful footwork, avoiding attention.

‘This should be the right place.’

He stopped at the vacant station of none other than Daeno-ya.

Anyone who so much as touched Daeno-ya’s belongings risked having the entire smithy overturned.

Clack.

And yet Sewoon set the saber casually against Daeno-ya’s anvil.

With the bait set, he turned back to his seat, intending to gather information on when Daeno-ya would return.

“Hey, rookie!”

‘Hmm?’

Another senior blacksmith called out to Sewoon.

“Quit lazing around and take these repaired weapons to the martial officers.”

“Me?”

“Should I do it then?”

“Well… that doesn’t sound too bad.”

The senior blacksmith was struck speechless.

“Sorry, but I was going to check on my senior who just colla—!”

Sewoon suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

His eyes caught sight of the pile of fully repaired practice weapons stacked beside the senior.

‘Those are definitely—!’

Whoosh!

Like the wind, Sewoon snatched up one of the swords.

“…Or maybe not. I should listen to my seniors, after all. I’ll take these over then!”

“H-hey! Wait a—!”

Bowing quickly, Sewoon dashed out of the smithy with incredible speed.

“Oi, you brat! How can you just take one? You’re supposed to take them all!”

The senior blacksmith shouted after him, his eyes catching sight of the practice sword slung on Sewoon’s back.

Its hilt bore an engraved plum blossom pattern.