Chapter 132
Chapter 132
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: An Unexpected Task
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Fifteen days later.
At dawn, in the Mi-nong Forge.
At an hour when it should have been empty, the sound of a hammer echoed from the workshop.
It was Bu Eun-seol, the young blacksmith who had started with odd jobs before finding his place at the Mi-nong Forge.
*Clang, clang, clang.*
Placing a piece of red-hot iron on the anvil, he began to shape it with his hammer.
Each time the hand hammer struck, the metal was folded and drawn out, again and again.
*Creek.*
Just then, the old door opened, and a gray-clad figure stepped into the forge. It was Yuk Man-ho.
“Master Blacksmith.”
Bu Eun-seol set down his hammer and bowed his head. Yuk Man-ho raised an eyebrow.
“What are you doing here instead of back in your quarters?”
“I was trying to make the things I couldn't finish during the day.”
“What do you mean, you couldn't finish? What couldn't you make?”
At Yuk Man-ho’s question, Bu Eun-seol lowered his head.
“Because the other blacksmiths do not wish for me to forge…”
“Hmm.”
It seemed that despite the strict orders of Master Blacksmith Yuk Man-ho, the blacksmiths of the Mi-nong Forge were still preventing Bu Eun-seol from working.
“So, what were you making?”
“I tried making a sickle.”
Yuk Man-ho picked up the sickle lying beside Bu Eun-seol.
“Hmm. It’s a bit heavier than the ones the other blacksmiths make.”
He examined the sickle intently, then nodded.
“You’ve made the handle short and the tang long. That’s why it’s heavy. Why did you make it in this shape?”
“Farmers use sickles not just for grain, but also for cutting light branches. Made this way, it can be used for a long time without damage.”
Yuk Man-ho inspected the sickle once more.
The uniformity and density were excellent, as if it had been crafted by a blacksmith who had been making sickles for a very long time.
‘He has talent.’
Putting the sickle down, Yuk Man-ho spoke to Bu Eun-seol.
“Don’t come to the forge at this hour anymore.”
Before Bu Eun-seol could say anything, Yuk Man-ho clapped him on the shoulder.
“I’ll have a firm word with the other blacksmiths, so from tomorrow, make sure you forge the tools properly.”
Despite the trust in Yuk Man-ho’s voice, Bu Eun-seol merely bowed his head with a blank expression.
Around noon, numerous blacksmiths poured out of the forges within the Dangsan Ironworks.
It was lunchtime, and they were lining up to eat.
A middle-aged man in brown robes watched them from a stall displaying various farming tools. He was I-bok, the manager of the Dangsan Ironworks.
“He certainly has talent.”
His lips curled as he looked at a stall set off to one side.
Displayed there were the farming tools made by Bu Eun-seol. Although their shapes were rather crude, they were popular, and quite a few items were already gone.
When he asked the farmers why they bought them, they all said the same thing: ‘The shape is so-so, but it’s easy to use,’ or ‘It fits perfectly in my hand.’
“He’s stripped away all the frills, making it purely functional.”
Having worked at the Dangsan Ironworks for a long time, I-bok’s eye was as sharp as any blacksmith’s.
Just as the Master Blacksmith, Yuk Man-ho, had said, he was indeed a talented young smith.
Even so, he didn't like Bu Eun-seol's tools.
“Every tool has its own inherent beauty of form…”
Bu Eun-seol had almost no aesthetic sense, which a blacksmith ought to possess. The tools he made were faithful only to ‘function.’
In short, the tools he crafted perfectly mirrored his blunt and inflexible personality.
“He’ll never become a great blacksmith.”
Just as he clicked his tongue and turned away,
“Is anyone here?”
A man in a light indigo martial uniform entered the Dangsan Ironworks.
His gaze was incredibly cold and fierce, but I-bok greeted him with the utmost courtesy, as if he were a distinguished guest.
“Instructor Yeon, what brings you here?”
The man in the uniform was none other than Yeon Myeong-jin, one of the five instructors who taught disciples at the Zhongnan Sect's Dangsan Martial Academy.
“I’ve come to have my sword repaired.”
“I see. Please, have a seat over here.”
Even though Yeon Myeong-jin maintained his curt tone and cold gaze, I-bok’s attitude was as respectful as if he were serving an elder.
It was only natural. One of the Dangsan Ironworks' biggest clients was the disciples who trained at the Zhongnan Sect’s Dangsan Martial Academy.
Yeon Myeong-jin was in a position to teach those disciples, so his influence could not be ignored.
“Why have you come yourself instead of sending one of your disciples?”
“How could I entrust a sword that is like an extension of myself to my disciples?”
Yeon Myeong-jin, though only in his early thirties, spoke to I-bok, who was well past forty, as if addressing a subordinate.
“Perhaps from infusing too much internal energy, the blade was slightly damaged during training. I think it needs some work.”
The Zhongnan Sect's sword arts were exceedingly powerful, so it was common for swords to break or bend during practice.
For this reason, the martial artists of the Zhongnan Sect frequented blacksmiths to have their weapons repaired until they could skillfully control the flow of their internal energy and the tempo of their sword forms.
“May I see the sword?”
“Handle it carefully.”
“Of course.”
Taking the sword from Yeon Myeong-jin, I-bok cautiously unsheathed it and examined it closely.
All nine great sects used swords, but each used a slightly different form.
The Zhongnan Sect's sword was a little longer and thicker than those of other sects.
Despite this, not only was the edge damaged, but the sturdy blade itself was also slightly warped.
‘He must have really put it through its paces.’
Besides the blade, there were fine cracks in the part connecting the sword to the hilt and along the guard.
It was reasonably well-maintained, but the signs of rough use were undeniable.
“Repairing it won't be difficult… but it will take some time.”
“Time? How long?”
“The blacksmiths are all at their meal. I will have them start work as soon as they finish.”
“How long will it take?”
“At the latest, we will have it repaired and sent to the academy by tomorrow.”
“It takes that long?”
As Yeon Myeong-jin's eyebrows shot up, I-bok bowed his head and said,
“The edge can be re-honed quickly, but the lateral force has also damaged the blade and the guard that secures it.”
Yeon Myeong-jin spoke with a displeased expression.
“Where is the Master Blacksmith?”
“The Master Blacksmith has gone to Zhejiang… It will be a month before he returns.”
Yeon Myeong-jin’s expression soured further.
“Call a blacksmith now and have it finished today. Immediately.”
I-bok looked troubled.
The blacksmiths of the weapons forge were all highly skilled and, as such, had immense pride.
Even if he begged and pleaded, none of them would drop their chopsticks mid-meal to come and repair a sword.
“They have just started their meal… Could you please wait a little?”
“I skipped my own meal to get here quickly.”
“I see.”
I-bok swallowed his frustration and bowed his head.
‘What a temper.’
Suppressing his anger, I-bok spoke carefully.
“If you are in a hurry, how about taking one of our new swords for now?”
“Do you think I came here in person because my academy has no swords?”
“That is not what I meant. I was thinking of offering you a fine sword, free of charge…”
“Nonsense. Do you think I came here to get a new sword?”
“My… my apologies.”
I-bok hastily bowed his head.
Seeing the man, well into his forties, bowing so deeply before him, Yeon Myeong-jin realized he had been too harsh.
“My apologies. I’ve been on edge…”
He paused for a moment and sighed.
“The truth is, there is an important demonstration at the academy tomorrow. An elder from the main sect will be attending. Do you understand what that means?”
A weapon is like a horse; the more it is handled, the more it becomes accustomed to its master.
Especially for a martial artist who has not yet perfected their sword art, the difference between a familiar sword and an unfamiliar one was quite significant.
“I understand the situation perfectly. In that case, I will try to persuade the blacksmiths…”
Just as I-bok stood up to go to the blacksmiths, a figure in gray robes walked toward them from the opposite direction.
It was Bu Eun-seol.
“Oh, there’s a young blacksmith.”
Yeon Myeong-jin’s face lit up when he spotted Bu Eun-seol.
“He can repair it right away.”
“No. He, he is…”
“What other excuse are you going to make? There’s no time, so give it to him quickly.”
I-bok stammered for a moment, then fell silent.
Come to think of it, if he was skilled enough to make decent farming tools, then honing a blade and repairing a sword shouldn't be too difficult.
‘No, that’s still not right…’
No matter what, letting a blacksmith from the Mi-nong Forge repair a weapon was out of the question.
What if something went wrong? How would he handle the aftermath?
But Yeon Myeong-jin snatched the longsword from I-bok’s hands and held it out to Bu Eun-seol.
“Here! This is urgent, so put everything else aside and repair my sword first.”
Bu Eun-seol stared blankly at the sword, then nodded.
“Alright.”
‘This kid?’
I-bok had expected Bu Eun-seol to refuse.
He was flabbergasted when the young man brazenly nodded after seeing the longsword.
“Blacksmith Bu. Are you sure you can take responsibility for repairing this?”
At I-bok's question, Bu Eun-seol glanced down at the longsword in his hand and said calmly,
“It should be done in about four hours.”
“Four hours?”
I-bok was so dumbfounded that he almost burst out laughing.
Repairing the weapon of a martial expert was a delicate and demanding task.
Even the skilled blacksmiths of the weapons forge would take a full day. And this kid, who only made farming tools, claimed he could do it in four hours?
‘Alright. This is a good chance to teach him a lesson!’
“Then will you take full responsibility and give it a try?”
I-bok swallowed a sneer and held out the longsword.
“But if the repairs go wrong, it will be all your responsibility.”
A blacksmith must take responsibility for the items he is entrusted with.
This was something that couldn't be swept under the rug, even if Yuk Man-ho tried to protect him.
‘This is my chance to get rid of this thorn in my side.’
Whether he knew I-bok’s scheme or not, Bu Eun-seol simply nodded his head.
“Understood.”
Then, as if nothing had happened, he slowly turned and walked toward the forge.
* * *
Bu Eun-seol entered a small warehouse a short distance from the Mi-nong Forge.
Thanks to the consideration of the Master Blacksmith, Yuk Man-ho, he was allowed to make farming tools, but his relationship with the other blacksmiths in the forge was far from good.
That was why he worked alone in this old warehouse, away from the main forge.
*Click.*
But something was strange.
Instead of starting work immediately, Bu Eun-seol just sat there, staring intently at the sword.
“…”
His eyes, as he examined the sword from every angle, were gravely serious.
After a long while of laying the sword flat and inspecting the damaged parts of the blade, his eyes flashed.
‘Most sword arts of the Orthodox Factions condense internal energy into the sword's tip like a drop of dew. But this… the energy was spread throughout the entire blade as it was swung.’
This time, he held the edge up to the light.
‘Instead of using the point, he used the rotational force to sweep the keen internal energy sideways, utilizing the entire length of the blade.’
As Bu Eun-seol held the bent longsword, a vision of a sword form, spinning fiercely and sweeping sideways, unfolded in his mind.
‘It’s the Chwi-u Sword, one of the Three Great Sword Arts of Zhongnan!’