Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: The Sword of the God of Blacksmiths (1)
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A smile formed on Hyun-soo’s lips.
Subscriber Rank: 19th. Subscribers: 710,000.
As far as Hyun-soo knew, a blacksmith guild in this ranking bracket brought in an average monthly revenue of 1 billion won.
And those in the top 10 earned over 2 billion. The top 3, as much as 4 billion.
These were monthly figures, so the annual numbers were staggering.
In other words, Hyeon's Smithy could now unconditionally earn over 2 billion a year from regular commissions alone.
‘How many subscribers does Black Anvil have?’
Hyun-soo suddenly grew curious about the ranking of Korea’s number one blacksmith guild, Black Anvil.
[Black Anvil Subscribers: 3,303,001.]
[Currently ranked 1st in Korea.]
It was an impressively high number, a full 1.5 million ahead of the second-place guild, a ranking that hadn't changed in the last three years.
Hyun-soo then spotted a message from Roun.
[Hello, Hyeon. It’s Roun. Congratulations on crafting two legendary artifacts. I’m writing to you with one last recruitment offer.]
One last recruitment offer.
The words were heavy with meaning.
[I will promise you 50% of my income for one year and offer you the position of Vice Guild Master.]
It was an offer that went beyond generous, bordering on shocking.
Hyun-soo knew that Roun's annual income exceeded 10 billion won.
In that moment, Hyun-soo realized something.
Even hearing that amount, he didn't feel like he was about to go crazy with joy.
[If you still decline, I can only assume you have another goal in mind.]
The moment he had checked the rankings today, Hyun-soo had set a new goal for himself.
[Hyeon, come to where I am. I will be waiting. And if the day comes when the number one spot changes, will you make me an offer?]
Hyun-soo read the words and doubted his own eyes.
[Asking if I’d like to join in exchange for the Vice Guild Master position.]
Right now, Roun was in the position of power, making the offer. No matter how well Hyeon was doing lately, he was no match for him.
But Roun was saying that if such a day came, he would give him the opportunity to absorb Black Anvil.
Hyun-soo wore a puzzled expression.
‘Why is he going this far?’
He found the reason in the message.
[Because that will be the only way for this small country to claim the number one spot in the world rankings. I will wait for you, Hyeon, whether it takes 3 years, 5 years, or 10, until you reach this place. But if it ever becomes too much to bear, you can always come to our Black Anvil.]
Roun was a wise guild master.
He was gently telling him to join willingly if he couldn't surpass the top-ranked Black Anvil.
‘What a relief.’
Hyun-soo let out a small smile. Some of the top-tier smithies would surely start trying to keep him in check.
But Black Anvil had decided to take a wait-and-see approach.
What made Roun so clever was that he saw Hyun-soo’s potential and chose to leave the door open for an alliance rather than making an enemy.
Hyun-soo smiled.
‘Three years? Five years? It won’t take that long.’
One year.
Yes, within one year, Hyun-soo decided he would make Hyeon's Smithy the number one guild in Korea by subscriber count.
Just then, Nel spoke in the guild chat.
[Nel: Seeing the ‘1’ disappear means you had a good visit with your father, right? I got a call about the donation money from the AJ Internet broadcast. The total donations came to 38 million, and AJ Internet is offering an appearance fee of 10 million won.]
[Risel: I wasn’t supposed to get an appearance fee… O_O]
[Nel: They said they look forward to working with you again, Guild Master.]
[Risel: Oh…]
[Bakeu: Grats grats.]
48 million won.
Of course, all of it was slated for his father's hospital bills.
“I’ll be back.”
Hyun-soo gave his father a small smile and headed out.
The group chat remained active on his way home.
[Nel: The subscriber count will continue to rise once the recorded broadcast is released. I think we can probably secure the 16th spot. For the time being, you can probably focus on your personal growth or crafting, Guild Master.]
Hyun-soo was still just a level 120 blacksmith.
No matter how outstanding the guild became or how high the subscriber count climbed, it wouldn't do for his personal level to be too low.
Furthermore, each class had its own class quests, and it was always best to complete them consistently.
Completing class quests yielded rewards befitting that class.
Before long, Hyun-soo was standing in front of his capsule.
[Connecting to Ares.]
Appearing in his base, the smithy, Hyun-soo let out a bitter smile at the sight of the still-desolate workshop.
Pere was currently working to stabilize the Barad territory, so he would return once some more time had passed.
‘Maybe I should try my first class quest.’
[Class Quest: The Sword Left by the God of Blacksmiths is available.]
It was one of the notifications that had popped up.
When he first changed his class to Successor of the God of Blacksmiths, Hyun-soo had obtained a sword.
It was presumed to be a quest artifact, and all its details were listed as ‘???’.
Hyun-soo opened the quest log to review it.
[Class Quest: The Sword Left by the God of Blacksmiths]
Grade: A
Requirement: Successor of the God of Blacksmiths, Level 100-130
Reward: ???
Penalty on Failure: Forfeit the title of Successor of the God of Blacksmiths.
Description: You can hear the explanation upon meeting Daeng, the Tower Master of the Sword.
‘What’s with this brutal penalty?’
Failure meant forfeiting his title as Successor of the God of Blacksmiths.
It also meant that all the skills he possessed, like God's Custom Production, God's Custom Repair, and God's Emergency Production, would disappear.
And with a level limit of 130, he would likely be automatically disqualified if he surpassed that level.
‘It’s been a while since I went to the Tower of Blacksmiths.’
Before setting out, Hyun-soo sent a hawk to Daeng, the Tower Master of the Sword, to let him know he was on his way.
***
On the top floor of the Tower of the Sword.
A messenger of the God of Blacksmiths had arrived.
The messengers were those who relayed the words of the god.
They could be priests or simply chosen worshippers, or they could be individuals who had already received a revelation from the God of Blacksmiths and were waiting.
Balam, Messenger of the God.
His family had served the God of Blacksmiths for generations.
Balam was not special. He was merely one person who delivered the god's words and carried on his will.
He spoke in a resolute voice.
“The Successor may be stripped of his qualifications.”
The faces of those in the Tower of Blacksmiths showed a mixture of joy and sorrow.
Daeng, the Tower Master of the Sword, and Colson, the Tower Master of the Bow, turned pale, while the other tower masters’ faces lit up.
Daeng, hoping for the god's myth to be realized, wished for Hyun-soo to one day lead them.
Colson, on the other hand, had initially denied the God of Blacksmiths but had become captivated by Hyun-soo after their blacksmithing contest.
Conversely, the other tower masters were still terrified of their positions being threatened.
Of course, it wasn't a simple matter of disqualification.
“The Sword Left by the God of Blacksmiths has served to measure his accomplishments during his growth after his class change. The moment his approval rating fails to exceed 40%, he will be stripped of his position.”
Daeng could not understand him.
“How can the god so easily cast aside one he calls his own successor?”
Balam, the Messenger of the God, looked down at himself with a bitter expression. His priestly robes were worn to threads, yellowed with the passage of time.
He wondered if he was a priest or a beggar.
“My current appearance is the reason.”
Daeng’s expression was one of pity.
“There are countless temples to countless gods in this world, and the followers of the Ares religion number in the hundreds of millions.”
The Ares religion.
The greatest god, Ares.
Although Ares was a supercomputer, in the game's lore, it was set as the most powerful deity.
“The temples of other gods are smaller than that of Ares, yet they still boast tens of millions of followers.”
Balam smiled bitterly at Colson and Daeng.
“And as for the followers of the God of Blacksmiths…”
Balam looked at Colson, then at Daeng. Then he pointed to himself.
“It may be that we three are all that remain.”
Balam, the Messenger of the God, was weary.
“I wish to end my family’s service to the God of Blacksmiths with my generation. It is too hungry and difficult a life.”
Only with many followers could those who served the god fill their bellies.
“How did this come to pass?”
“The God of Blacksmiths symbolizes both martial prowess and the art of blacksmithing. This, ironically, became his poison.”
“How did it become a poison?”
Daeng had always rejoiced whenever he heard the myths.
The God of Blacksmiths was said to have crafted wondrous arms and possessed outstanding power.
What could be more magnificent than that?
“Sir Daeng, if you were a follower who sought great power, would you serve the God of the Sword, or the God of Blacksmiths?”
He would serve the God of the Sword.
A god who specialized in one thing would possess greater power in that field than a god who possessed two.
“The god himself is aware of this fact. He knows that the conditions to succeed him, a god in the lowest of positions, are too difficult, and that it is hard to inspire worship. That is why the god is now prepared to boldly abandon his successor.”
“Then what kind of achievement must he accomplish for the god to acknowledge him?”
“The god’s approval rating represents many things. The amount of martial power he has accumulated since his class change. The strength of the arms he has crafted thus far. He must have at least crafted an artifact closest to legendary.”
“…You have hopes for an impossible task.”
Daeng and Colson couldn't help but let out hollow laughs.
“Messenger, how can you ask one who has just taken his first steps to achieve such an absurd feat?”
For the outsiders, level was the most important factor.
Applying what the god was demanding to an NPC was like telling a nine-year-old to craft a near-legendary weapon.
Just then.
“…Sir Hyun-soo has arrived.”
One of the tower staff appeared, leading Hyun-soo in.
Balam, too, understood the god’s will.
‘He has decided that it is better to have nothing than to barely maintain a shabby temple and raise a successor.’
For over a thousand years, the God of Blacksmiths had tragically lagged behind the other gods.
The god desired a successor who would surpass and lead.
The conditions were far too strict, but he understood that sentiment a hundred, a thousand times over.
He spoke politely to the successor who had appeared.
“Successor, that sword contains all of your achievements since your class change. Each time you swing it, an achievement will be revealed.”
“What does it mean for an achievement to be revealed?”
“Recall a memorable trait from an artifact you have crafted, and then speak of the achievements you have accumulated on your path. You may do so by saying, ‘One. I have done this,’ and so on.”
“Do you mean the skills imbued in what I’ve crafted will manifest?”
“Yes, their power will manifest. But do not worry. It is but the power of a mirage, and no matter how you swing it, it cannot harm anyone.”
The successor, Hyun-soo, nodded and slowly drew the sword back.
Then, he swung it with all his might.
“One…”
The moment he spoke his first achievement, the eyes of Daeng and Colson flew wide open.
“One…”
The moment he spoke his second, Lek, the Tower Master of the Shield who had denied the god, let out a cry of shock.
“One…”
The moment he spoke another, Balam, who no longer believed the empty myths of the God of Blacksmiths and sought to deny him, fell to one knee.
“One.”
As it continued, Balam finally knew that the true god had arrived.
“One.”
As the words fell from his lips, Balam, who had been mesmerized by him, suddenly came to his senses.
An area to his right was completely frozen over.
To his left, a ferocious dragon stared at him, snorting smoke.
In one spot, one of the most sacred-looking bells in the world let out a powerful toll.
Daaaaaaeng—
In another, a bow drew itself, shot a monster, and pinned it to the ground.
And before he knew it, Balam had pressed his forehead to the floor, prostrating himself in worship of the man named Hyun-soo.