Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: The Master's Flickering Flame
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Sitting forge master Gun Do-sang and the standing Hyeok Mulin.
In the cold tension hanging between them as their eyes met, Gun Do-sang soon parted his stiff lips.
"Who the hell are you?"
Gun Do-sang didn't recognize him as the Cult Leader, even after seeing Hyeok Mulin's face.
The Southern Iron Gate was located in the remote southern reaches of the Shin River, far from Heavenly Mountain, and he had shut himself away in his workshop without ever stepping out, so it was no surprise he didn't know.
However, judging from the sarcasm about a "serious patient" who could only work one hour a day, he guessed this stranger must be from the Heavenly Demon Palace rather than a common blacksmith.
But after glancing at the furnace for a moment, he gave an answer utterly unrelated to the question.
"It's awfully hot in here."
Staring at the furnace with half-lidded eyes, he casually flicked his hand through the air.
In an instant, chilling air burst from him, extinguishing the furnace flames and dissipating the sweltering heat inside.
"...!"
Even Gun Do-sang, with his typically stoic demeanor, couldn't hide his shock at the sight.
His workshop was normally so intensely hot that not even seasoned martial artists could endure it, let alone ordinary blacksmiths.
Yet this man had strolled in without a care and quelled the heat with a mere gesture.
And now, it even felt cold.
Gun Do-sang's eyes widened as he watched the man's movements intently for a moment.
The man glanced around casually, then turned and strode toward something.
He picked up an object and tossed it to Gun Do-sang upon returning.
"...?"
Catching it reflexively, Gun Do-sang looked down at it with a puzzled expression.
What the man had thrown was none other than a pair of new tongs.
They were exactly what he had asked his disciple for, but in this situation?
Unable to fathom his intent, Gun Do-sang stared at them before asking again.
"Who are you?"
"It doesn't matter who I am. What matters is that you lied to our cult."
"What do you...?"
"You claimed the patient could only work one hour a day, but even a glance at those sweat-soaked clothes proves otherwise."
His hemp garments were drenched like a drowned rat, and his disheveled state made it obvious he'd been working for hours already.
"That's...?"
Silenced by Hyeok Mulin's sharp remark, he hesitated as if about to speak—
Bang!
The door flew open urgently, and several blacksmiths rushed in.
Leading them was the deputy gate leader, Tak Se-gon, who cried out in horror.
"C-Cult Leader...!"
"Cult Leader?"
At those words, Gun Do-sang turned back to the man with a look of utter disbelief.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Leader had shown up unannounced, entering the gate master's workshop alone?
Who could have possibly anticipated such a turn of events?
He had assumed at most it was one of the Leader's Martial Force Unit members, but if it was the Leader himself, everything changed.
"Cult Leader, I can explain what happened here...?"
With the gate master's work exposed, Tak Se-gon belatedly tried to clarify, but Gun Do-sang raised a hand to him.
"Leave."
"Pardon?"
"I'm in the middle of speaking with the Cult Leader right now. No one approaches until we're done."
"...Understood."
At the gate master's order to clear out, the blacksmiths withdrew.
Once their footsteps fully faded outside, a heavy silence settled over the now-empty workshop.
Gun Do-sang cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke.
"Ahem, so you're the Cult Leader. I never imagined you'd grace us with your presence personally. Forgive my rudeness."
Embarrassed by his earlier "you bastard" tone, he scratched his head sheepishly.
Then, recalling the tribute swords, he asked.
"Did the swords we offered meet your approval? They were crafted with the utmost care, in honor of you, Cult Leader."
Hyeok Mulin smirked, lifting the corner of his mouth.
"Care was certainly put into them. By your disciples, not you."
"...!"
Gun Do-sang's sunken eyes flew wide open like full moons in shock.
"Your disciples' skills were pathetic. Producing such garbage—it's a waste of iron."
Stung by the blunt criticism, Gun Do-sang swallowed hard and replied.
"How did you know they were made by my disciples and not me?"
"You can tell just by looking at the blades. If those were truly the gate master's heartfelt efforts, the Southern Iron Gate would have collapsed long ago."
The man who earned the title of Heavenly Sword Forge Emperor forging the previous Leader's sword wouldn't produce such trash.
Even if he'd half-assed it as a tribute, his pride wouldn't allow that level of work.
"...You're right. Those swords were made by my disciples."
Unable to refute Hyeok Mulin's flawless logic, Gun Do-sang confessed the truth.
Hyeok Mulin gazed at him steadily and posed another question.
"Why send your disciples' swords instead of ones you made yourself?"
Gun Do-sang fell silent at the question.
A heavy quiet stretched on, until he finally let out a deep sigh and spoke.
"I've held a hammer since childhood. Before reaching adulthood, the previous gate master took me in and taught me everything."
One day, his master died suddenly from overwork, thrusting the overly young Gun Do-sang into the gate master position prematurely.
After that, he forged countless weapons worthy of fame and treasure, placing them in the hands of many martial artists.
"Back then, I thought that was the righteous path for a blacksmith: granting the finest weapons to those who commissioned them."
Gun Do-sang shook his head slowly.
"But I was wrong."
The martial artists who received his supreme weapons either failed to wield them and despaired, fell prey to their power, or lost their lives to reclusive experts who coveted them.
In the end, only a scant few—countable on one hand—truly mastered and protected their weapons.
"That's why I resolved never to forge for anyone again."
The spark of the artisan within Gun Do-sang had extinguished.
He simply emerged into the workshop to hammer iron, remelting it once it took shape, repeating the cycle.
Meaningless time dragged on, and eventually, no one asked the gate master to craft anything anymore.
Then, one day when all expectations had faded—
A new Cult Leader ascended, and as he indifferently attended the Heavenly Demon's enthronement ceremony just to catch a glimpse of the previous one—
"Just once, seeing the previous Leader changed my mind."
The moment their eyes met, Gun Do-sang's heart pounded like it would burst, rekindling a long-dormant ember.
He returned to the main gate before the ceremony even ended and headed straight to his workshop.
For ten straight days, without sleep or food, he hammered iron like a man possessed.
"In the end, I completed it: the greatest masterpiece of my life."
Gun Do-sang finished his final work by presenting the Bright King Divine Sword to the Leader.
Simply drawing it and infusing it with demonic energy made it dazzle onlookers, too bright to even gaze upon directly.
"I apologize for the deception. But I felt no pull to create another masterpiece."
The gate master indirectly conveyed his refusal to acknowledge Hyeok Mulin, adding,
"My last ember has gone out. Coming to the forge and hammering is just a meaningless routine now. I haven't forged a weapon since then. Leaving that final masterpiece is enough for me."
Gun Do-sang stated flatly.
At this point, he'll back off on his own.
He might be fuming, but what can he do?
For a Heavenly Demon with shaky support, avoiding making enemies is crucial. He's no fool to lay hands on the Southern Iron Gate's master out of temper.
His only path is to swallow his frustration and leave.
"Heh."
But contrary to his expectations, Hyeok Mulin chuckled instead.
"A masterpiece. Who in future generations will even recognize it?"
The previous Leader had vanished from the world.
Along with the Bright King Divine Sword he boasted of.
Not only its power, but even confirming its existence was impossible.
"Future generations won't even know the Bright King Divine Sword existed."
"I didn't make it to be remembered by others. Just for my own satisfaction...?"
"You're turning a blind eye to reality. A martial artist enters the jianghu to leave behind a nickname and techniques. A blacksmith enters the forge to leave an epithet and weapons. Yet you call something that vanished without a trace your life's masterpiece and claim satisfaction?"
"That's...?"
Hyeok Mulin's words pierced Gun Do-sang's heart like irrefutable truth.
As he faltered without reply, Hyeok Mulin continued.
"And your ember hasn't gone out. You're just deliberately turning away from it."
Though no blacksmith himself, Hyeok Mulin could tell.
How could someone who faces the furnace daily and hammers away have extinguished their spark?
Those eyes, those hands—they weren't those of someone who had given up.
"...?"
As Gun Do-sang remained silent, Hyeok Mulin slowly paced the workshop.
With hands clasped behind his back, surveying the interior, he soon spoke measuredly.
"The Southern Iron Gate's divine treasure: Indestructible Lightless Iron."
Gun Do-sang flinched.
His shoulders trembled at Hyeok Mulin's words.
"Forge my sword with it. That should reignite your fire."
"...Hah."
Stunned by the unimaginable proposal, he soon scoffed in disbelief.
"This Cult Leader enjoys jests, it seems. Impossible. Even setting aside that I don't recognize you, no one in the world can smelt Indestructible Lightless Iron."
Indestructible Lightless Iron.
Before the Southern Iron Gate's founding, the first gate master discovered it deep in the Iron Blood Mountains of A-geuk Village.
Unlike ordinary ores, it held no luster, instead devouring surrounding light in pure black allure.
Seduced by its beauty, countless blacksmiths tried to smelt it but failed repeatedly.
Thus, it had rested solemnly in the gate's underground depths for centuries, untouched.
"No one can smelt it, you say. Why so certain?"
"You must know. Its smelting difficulty surpasses any ore in existence. First, to alter its form requires extreme heat beyond imagination."
Through accumulated failures, several facts had emerged.
Indestructible Lightless Iron couldn't be smelted with ordinary flames.
To reshape it demanded flames blazing like the sun itself.
"We call it Extreme Heat, but no one's confirmed if it's even possible."
"Extreme Heat."
"That's not all. Even if you achieve Extreme Heat and hammer it ceaselessly for three days and nights, ordinary cooling won't suffice."
Extreme Heat touching the ore couldn't be quenched by immersion in cold water.
"It requires Extreme Cold that would freeze anything solid on contact, but such energy is impossible without the North Sea Ice Palace's Ice Crystal."
As if the North Sea Ice Palace would hand over their treasure easily.
Thus, the Southern Iron Gate had long abandoned smelting it due to these two impossibilities.
Shaking his head, Gun Do-sang spoke regretfully.
"I don't know why you're bringing this up, but give it up...?"
"If I solve both, will you accept my proposal?"
A suffocating silence fell at his words.
Gun Do-sang stared blankly, thick sweat trickling down his spine.
"What did you just...?"
"I can do it."
The Extreme Heat and Extreme Cold you mentioned.
Both.