Chapter 213
Chapter 213
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 213
Chapter Title: The Blacksmith Without Talent
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The Southern Iron Gate was a collective of blacksmith guilds, but it was also a unified sect in its own right.
As such, beneath the Southern Iron Gate existed countless subordinate sects.
Those who sought their skilled techniques had voluntarily placed themselves under them, begging to learn.
Among these many subordinate sects under the Southern Iron Gate's banner, it was only natural that differences in skill and manpower created clear hierarchies between them.
And among them, the sect that stood out the most was the Silver Iron Gate.
"Report."
"Yes. I'll brief you on last month's weapon production status."
At Sect Leader Yang Mungi's words, the chief steward pulled a scroll from his bosom and began reciting its contents in detail.
"First, for swords: fifty Strong Cloud Swords tempered with steel and eighty Demon Mark Blades cast from dark iron. All underwent five rounds of tempering to enhance blade durability and sharpness."
The steward flipped the scroll and continued in a heavy voice.
"For spears, thirty Platinum Spears forged from wrought iron. For bows, a hundred longbows and fifteen hundred arrows. The arrowheads this time were made from refined iron, making them lighter and sharper than before, earning praise from our clients."
"Good to hear the new method is getting positive reviews."
"Yes. Finally, for armor: sixty sets of medium plate. The chest and back plates are woven with iron scales and plain thread in three layers, strong enough to withstand enemy blades without shattering."
With that, the steward finished his report. Yang Mungi, who had been listening intently, nodded in satisfaction.
"Well done."
Yang Mungi had once been the Silver Iron Gate's most popular blacksmith, but since becoming sect leader, he had stepped back from the forge.
There were plenty of people to hammer iron, but few who could handle administrative duties.
Thus, he had traded the workshop for an office, spending his days processing paperwork alongside the chief steward.
'In this province, there can't be many blacksmiths as busy as we are right now.'
The Southern Iron Gate only admitted the finest blacksmiths in the province.
They were swamped with orders and had the privilege of choosing their work.
In other words, they could pick jobs that suited their pace.
Where did the rest go?
Naturally, to the subordinate sects under the Southern Iron Gate, who handled the bulk of the overflow.
And among those, the Silver Iron Gate boasted the largest workshops and most blacksmiths.
They were always busy processing endless orders, day in and day out.
"Lately, the workload has increased even more."
"Yes. Requests are already more than double last year's."
These days, their lives were busier than ever.
Before, they would rise in the morning, eat breakfast, loosen up their stiff bodies, then slowly head to the workshop to start the day.
Now, even mealtime was a luxury; many blacksmiths wolfed down rations right at their forges, eyes barely leaving their work.
'This has to be... the Southern Iron Gate's doing.'
Yang Mungi's face mixed joy with a hint of worry as he confirmed the skyrocketing revenue.
The surge wasn't just due to their high-quality output.
The biggest factor was...
The Southern Iron Gate refusing all commissions outright.
Unable to source satisfactory iron ore, they had stopped taking jobs entirely.
The subordinates, compromising with mid-grade materials, naturally scooped up the work.
'We can't let this opportunity slip.'
It was worrisome that the blacksmiths were worked to the bone, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
Orders that would normally go straight to the Southern Iron Gate were flooding in.
Make a good impression now, and the work would keep coming later.
Getting your foot in the door was the hard part; repeat business followed easily.
"For the time being, give each blacksmith an extra two taels of silver per month."
"Yes, I'll see it done."
The only way to reward blacksmiths toiling day and night was with money.
Yang Mungi decided on the bonus to keep their motivation high.
"That should put out the immediate fires."
Finishing the paperwork review, he closed the documents with a satisfied expression.
It was a crisis for the Southern Iron Gate, but a boon for them as subordinates.
Everything was running smoothly.
However...
Amid the boom, one nagging issue remained.
Shadows darkened Yang Mungi's eyes as he thought of it.
He looked at the chief steward and forced the words out.
"That......"
Unable to continue, the steward prompted him.
"Please speak freely."
Yang Mungi nodded and got it out.
"...Is he still the same?"
He didn't name him, but they both knew who "he" was.
The steward nodded regretfully.
"Yes. Still stuck at square one, it seems."
"Sigh... I see."
A deep sigh escaped Yang Mungi's lips.
The subject was his own son, Yang Un-sik.
As a child, he had loved handling iron.
Just like his father, the boy—with his tiny frame—would spend all day at the forge, eyes sparkling.
The son of the sect leader? Yang Mungi had assumed he'd grow into a skilled blacksmith.
'But those hopes were dashed.'
It was all a pipe dream.
He did love the work and iron ore, but Yang Un-sik had zero talent for hammering it.
At first, they chalked it up to beginner's struggles, but even after years, his skills stayed abysmal.
"......"
The steward couldn't find words for Yang Mungi's lament.
How could anyone fathom a father's pain over a talentless child?
He could only stay silent, unable to even offer encouragement.
Finally, Yang Mungi made up his mind and spoke slowly.
"It's a shame, but he'll have to walk a different path."
He resolved to decide his son's future.
The boy was already past thirty.
Too much time wasted clinging to a dead end.
It was time to let go and pivot.
"I'll broach it carefully with him."
"No, I'll tell him myself."
He couldn't delegate delivering such a life-altering verdict.
Yang Mungi would do it personally.
That it's best to set aside dreams of being a blacksmith.
As the mood sank between them, someone knocked on the office door.
"Sect Leader, may I come in?"
At the vice sect leader's voice, Yang Mungi replied immediately.
"Come in. What is it?"
The vice sect leader rarely visited in person, so Yang Mungi worried about some accident—until he entered and spoke.
"Sect Leader, a letter from the Southern Iron Gate has arrived."
"A letter?"
From the Southern Iron Gate.
He tilted his head in mild surprise.
How many years had it been?
They rarely interfered with subordinates, so correspondence was uncommon.
Puzzled, Yang Mungi took the letter and unfolded it.
Reading it through, he folded it silently.
The steward asked.
"What does it say?"
"Someone's coming down from the main sect."
"Suddenly?"
"Yes. No details on who or why. Just to follow their instructions."
It wasn't a standard letter.
No sender or purpose mentioned.
The steward pondered, then ventured cautiously.
"Sounds like an inspection, then."
Yang Mungi nodded in agreement.
No stated purpose, and arrival tomorrow—purely sudden.
But he had no qualms.
They ran a clean operation, nothing to hide.
"No need to worry. Just show them business as usual."
"Yes. I'll inform the blacksmiths thoroughly."
The vice sect leader and steward nodded firmly.
Facing their first inspection since becoming subordinates, their eyes gleamed with resolve.
"This is the place."
Hyeok Mulin stepped into the Silver Iron Gate.
Not comparable to the Southern Iron Gate, but impressively large.
At the entrance, he spotted the sect leader waiting.
"You're from the Southern Iron Gate?"
"That's right."
"Welcome. I'm the sect leader here, Yang Mungi."
Yang Mungi paused, awaiting a response.
But instead of replying, Hyeok Mulin just nodded.
Dry sweat beaded on Yang Mungi's sideburns.
Normally, one would introduce themselves in return, but he'd skipped straight to a nod.
'Higher up than I thought.'
Unable to gauge Hyeok Mulin's status, Yang Mungi sweated and tensed.
As Hyeok Mulin surveyed the surroundings, Yang Mungi composed himself and turned.
"You've come a long way. How about some warm tea to—"
"No need. Time's short; let's get to the point."
Hyeok Mulin cut him off sharply.
Yang Mungi swallowed hard and asked carefully.
"The point being...?"
"Where's the main workshop?"
Straight to the forge, skipping pleasantries.
'Definitely here to inspect.'
Yang Mungi snapped to attention and began guiding him.
"This way, please."
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Soon, they reached the large workshop. Yang Mungi opened the doors, revealing the interior to Hyeok Mulin.
Dozens of blacksmiths hammered away, sweat pouring.
"This main workshop accommodates dozens. The layout radiates from the center to maintain furnace heat evenly..."
Yang Mungi explained to him.
But Hyeok Mulin half-listened, entering and walking through.
He passed skilled blacksmiths and their fine products.
Then, he stopped at a man in the far corner.
Average build amid burly smiths.
He hammered diligently, but the results were pathetically bad at a glance.
"Is that one a blacksmith too?"
Yang Mungi winced at Hyeok Mulin's question.
Soon, he answered.
"My son. His skills lag far behind the others. Not fit for commissions, so he's just practicing alone."
"How many years has he been hammering iron?"
Since childhood, toddling around the forge.
"Over twenty-five years, probably."
That long, and still that skill level.
Embarrassed, Yang Mungi couldn't lift his head.
Hyeok Mulin resumed walking.
Approaching steadily, the presence made Yang Un-sik pause his hammering.
He turned to look at Hyeok Mulin.
Spotting the stranger, he wiped his sweat and said.
"Here for a commission? Then you should see the others..."
But Hyeok Mulin interrupted.
Gazing at Yang Un-sik, he said with firm conviction.
"No. You're the one I've been looking for."
For the main sect.
And for the Divine Cult.