Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Right? I Told You!
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"It's a sword."
"No, I mean—! It's a fan! How can it be a sword?!"
"Right? I told you!"
"You mad bastard!"
"Fine then, let's call it a sword fan."
"...What kind of lunatic is this guy?"
Dang Chukyung stared at me from head to toe with an expression like he'd seen every weirdo in the world, then scrutinized the blueprint again.
Soon, he narrowed his eyes.
"No, wait. Looking at the function... it really is a sword?"
"A sword just needs to cut and stab properly, doesn't it?"
It looked like a simple fan on the outside.
An iron fan made of steel, no less.
It was a weapon occasionally favored by martial artists who preferred tricky devices.
But the iron fan I'd designed was on a whole different level from the usual ones.
First off, the weight distribution was different.
The weight was concentrated toward the handle, wrapped tightly in leather to prevent slipping from the hand. That way, even when swinging hard in combat, it would grip securely.
The ribs forming the fan's frame were the same.
Since the iron fan had to fold to function as a sword, I'd designed them to lock together rigidly when closed.
The fan blades were also a bit longer than a standard fan, reaching the length of a narrow longsword—enough to qualify as a proper blade.
*And using the Black Sword steel from the Iron Horse Clan as material, it could easily hold sorcery to serve as a magic tool—*
*Lacking in sharpness as a sword? Augment it with spells... Indeed, this would birth a sword unique in this world, one only the Young Branch Lord could wield.*
Dang Chukyung let out a hollow chuckle as he examined the more detailed schematic beside the main blueprint.
"You want it to launch hidden weapons when opened?"
"I originally wanted to fit it with sleeve arrows or poison needles, but that would've made it too heavy and limited the capacity, so I switched to plum blossom nails and rain needles."
Plum blossom nails were small dart-like projectiles shaped like nails.
Rain needles were even thinner needle-shaped darts.
"Even those need to be made small and sturdy."
"If we carve out space inside the ribs, we can embed them."
"It's doable, plenty doable. But you said it's a sword? Adding these means installing firing mechanisms too—aren't you just gonna blow yourself up in a fight?"
"That's why the plum blossom nails and rain needles are sized under three pun, minimized as much as possible, and the firing mechanism is designed to recoil backward when the ribs lock like this—"
I'd worried the guy Dang Gon introduced might not catch on, but luckily, he did.
I spent a good while discussing the iron fan with Dang Chukyung.
Mostly him asking about unclear parts of the blueprint, and me explaining my vision.
*...Wh-what the hell is any of this? I don't get a thing.*
*The Young Branch Lord was apparently fascinated by mechanical devices before properly delving into sorcery and formations—*
Occasionally, the blacksmiths would timidly approach to ask about the next production step, but a sharp yell from Dang Chukyung to stop bothering him and scram sent them scurrying away.
"—durability issues will follow anyway! Even without the firing mechanism, what if you face a master strong enough to shatter the fan? Don't underestimate gunpowder, you punk!"
"I heard you're skilled."
"It's still tough!"
"You'll figure it out. Aren't you the old forge master Chukyung?"
"You little—?!"
I'd slipped into the same snappy tone I used with Dang Gon without realizing.
Dang Chukyung gawked at me in disbelief, but I pressed on with maximum shamelessness.
Truth be told, even if Dang Chukyung reinforced it with top materials, without using something like eternal cold iron or divine black steel, durability limits were inevitable.
The ribs and blades had to be thin to form a fan, after all.
So I planned to solve it with spells.
Since it was a magic tool anyway, I'd have to lay hands on it myself at some point.
Of course, I couldn't say that outright, so I'd glossed over it.
But to Dang Chukyung, it became a matter of pride.
"Fine. I'll make it unbreakable. You'll see it yourself and call me 'Elder' while bowing flat!"
He was already calling him Elder, but no need to point that out.
"B-Branch Lord... But we have a backlog of commissions—"
"Who cares about those commissions!? My pride as the old forge master is at stake!!"
The blacksmiths trying to dissuade him shrank back like young bamboo.
*Looks like this forge master got thoroughly hooked by the Young Branch Lord's bait too.*
I flashed a friendly smile.
A grin!
"Please take good care of it. When should I come pick it up?"
"Gathering materials will take at least a month—"
"But you're the old forge master Chukyung—even before the branch leader arrives, you'll handle it easily, right?"
"Uh, uh-huh?"
"Ah, if it's too much trouble—"
"Forget a month—two weeks, and I'll mass-produce dozens! Come get it before the event!!"
"As expected of Forge Master Chukyung. I'm in awe. I respect you! Please accept my bow, Elder!!"
*Ahem! Ahem! Now you know the greatness of this body!*
I bowed deeply, and he cleared his throat with a light cough.
His mouth twitched—he was clearly pleased.
Meanwhile, the blacksmiths' faces turned pale at the mountain of overtime ahead.
*Indeed, Young Branch Lord—*
*A fiend with a heart wicked enough to make demons weep in hell—*
Heh heh heh!
Cranky old folks are easier to handle after all, huh?
* * *
Alright, weapon issue resolved.
As I strolled leisurely to my next destination, one of the lingering spirits suddenly made a fuss.
*Ah! I'd been wondering where I'd seen that face before! I remember now! N-No way that guy's here... I didn't even know he was alive!*
It was the spirit who'd been staring at Dang Chukyung intently back at the outer forge hall.
'Who? Dang Chukyung?'
*Yes!*
'Wasn't he a forge master from the Stormwind Squad?'
*No! He's a much bigger fish!*
'Big fish? Who?'
Someone that big—I couldn't possibly not know them?
But.
*Mad Laughing Explosion Demon! It's definitely him!!*
*Huh?*
*What?*
*Th-The Mad Laughing Explosion Demon!?*
*That bastard was him?!*
*Why's that cursed name popping up here—*
'What? That guy's the lunatic?'
Like the panicking spirits, I was stunned too.
I knew the Mad Laughing Explosion Demon very well.
How many upright faction folks have a nickname mixing 'mad' and 'demon'?
As the moniker suggested, he was a bomb demon infamous—even feared—across the unorthodox and demonic paths.
How many demonic scum had he obliterated with explosives and firebombs?
The problem was, every time, he'd spout nonsense like 'Explosions are art!!' or 'Anything that doesn't explode has no value!' while bursting into mad laughter, or so I'd heard.
Especially during the Qinghai Conflict, when he blew up three peaks in the Kunlun Mountains, burying three hundred Sword Demon Corps alive—that plunged the Divine Cult into shock.
Even my master, usually even-tempered, flew into a rage and ordered his assassination.
The issue was his constant protection by the Sichuan Tang Clan and the Murim Alliance, foiling every attempt.
Plus, his background and details were sealed tight as state secrets, making it hard to dig up anything.
Fortunately, word was a top Ma Young Corps assassin finally took him out.
But he wasn't dead—he was alive?
And here in Nine Dragons County?
'How'd you recognize him as the Mad Laughing Explosion Demon?'
*I caught a glimpse from afar during the Qinghai Conflict. But in my memory, he wore a deep scholar's cap back then, and he was missing one arm, so I didn't connect the dots. His face was pre-burn too... And I'd thought him long dead, so it took time to recognize.*
'So he faked his death and retired to Nine Dragons County.'
I wondered how he'd regrown his arm, but the facial burns matched, so it had to be him.
The Ma Young Corps reported it as a failed experiment detonating explosives during the hit.
Still, better this way.
An enemy would've been trouble, but as an ally? Totally different story.
A weapon made by a lunatic like the Mad Laughing Explosion Demon!
I was already excited for the result.
* * *
An eight-wheeled carriage raced down the official road.
The flag on the roof fluttered wildly, boldly displaying its emblazoned crest.
—唐.
Tang.
The word denoting the clan called Tang Clan, Sichuan Tang House, Tang Family by many names.
In Sichuan—no, the western martial world—no one dared trifle with anyone bearing or wielding that word; it carried immense weight.
Yet.
"Bored, so bored! Way too bored! When the hell do we arrive?! I should've just come alone! They insisted on guarding me, guarding me... When they're way weaker than me—"
A cranky scolding leaked from the carriage, utterly out of place.
...In a gravelly voice full of dignity, belonging to an elderly man.
"...Still going on like that?"
"Y-Yes."
The woman riding alongside the carriage, Dang Ye-won, asked, and the escort nodded awkwardly with a smile.
"Sigh! What a spoiled brat."
The more it went on, the deeper the furrow on Dang Ye-won's fair brow.
It had been eight days since leaving the Tang Family stronghold.
The Dark Venerable was throwing a tantrum at his granddaughter and her escorts.
Bored to death—play with me.
Martial folk might say:
Since the Demon Lord Divine Sword Heavenly Demon vanished, only the Dark Venerable West Heaven Flower Rain truly rules the martial skies.
That his presence alone spreads the Tang Clan's fame endlessly, destined to blanket the outer reaches and Central Plains alike.
But Dang Ye-won knew better.
How absurd that nonsense was.
The world might hail the Dark Venerable as a once-in-a-generation hero, but in truth, he was just a reckless old fool living as he pleased.
His overwhelming power made martial artists kneel on their own; he harbored no ambition or desire to dominate the jianghu.
He even treated the Tang Clan leadership as a bothersome seat, itching to cast it off anytime.
Only because she and her father forcibly held him back had disaster been averted; otherwise, chaos would've erupted long ago.
This special task force event was another sudden whim, leaving Dang Ye-won to clean up the mess and shit blood.
*...If only rumors of the Dark Venerable finally launching a jianghu conquest hadn't spread.*
Right now, her father, the young clan leader, was surely swamped dealing with envoys from Qingcheng, Emei, Kongtong, Jecheon, and even distant Tianlong Temple, Podalap Palace, and Leiyin Temple.
All come to confirm if the Dark Venerable truly intended conquest—placating them would take more than a day or two.
Dang Ye-won silently pitied her father, his eyes ringed black with fatigue, while glaring at her grandfather still whining inside the carriage.
She'd tagged along under the escort pretext purely to keep watch.
*What's his real reason for forming this task force? He's never acted without thought, no matter how much trouble he causes...*
No matter how she pressed, he dodged, driving his doting granddaughter mad with frustration.
*No choice.*
Dang Ye-won resolved to uncover her grandfather's scheme this time and grabbed the carriage door handle.
They'd soon reach the next stop: Nine Dragons Branch Family.
She could pry something out before he hid it all.
Bang!
"Gran... dpa?"
But when Dang Ye-won flung open the door with gusto, she froze in bewilderment.
No tantrum-throwing child-like Dark Venerable lay there whining on the floor as expected.
Only a music box—supposedly hard-won from the Western Regions recently—remained.
The spring whirred busily; somehow, he'd swapped the original tune for his own whiny voice.
...The Dark Venerable had ditched them!
"Hing, fooled ya? Hing, fooled ya? Hing, fooled ya? Hing—"
And he'd rigged it specially—the voice shifted right on cue.
To content that grated on his granddaughter's nerves.
Snap!
In that instant, something snapped in Dang Ye-won's head.
"Grandpa!!"
Her shrill scream tore through the forest edge.