Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Old Fart
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“Request denied. Get lost.”
He tossed the blueprint back at me like it was trash.
I could only stare blankly as the paper fluttered to the floor.
My first step toward 5 billion—it was already creaking before I even started.
“Hold on, old-timer!”
Unable to take it anymore, Yuna stepped forward and shouted. Her voice mixed frustration and exasperation.
“At least hear us out first. You haven't even properly looked at what this is!”
“No need.”
The old man replied indifferently, turning toward the roaring furnace. It was as if he had no more business with us.
“I can tell at a glance. This isn't a weapon, is it?”
“Does it matter that it's not a weapon? With your skills, you could make it blindfolded...”
“That's exactly why I'm not making it.”
The old man poked at the blazing fire with his tongs. Red embers flew up, casting shadows on his grizzled, stern face.
“Better to sharpen one more blade than waste time on some toy I don't even know what it'll be used for.”
“What kind of...!”
Yuna tried to argue further, but the old man had completely turned his back on us. It was a clear rejection, signaling no more conversation.
...What a total boomer.
I never imagined his prickly personality would be this bad.
I tugged lightly at Yuna's sleeve. There was no point wasting more time here. You couldn't bend the stubbornness of old folks with a word or two.
It's not like there aren't other craftsmen out there.
Catching my glance, Yuna looked apologetic, as if regretting bringing me here.
“......”
I felt a twinge of regret myself. I wondered just how skilled the top craftsman in the business was.
I silently turned my head and slowly scanned the weapons hanging on the wall.
Every single one was extraordinary.
A longsword radiating a sharp blue aura, a hefty battle axe that seemed to embody raw destructive power, a sleek spear honed to perfection.
Even to my untrained eyes, those weapons had reached the realm of art, infused with the creator's soul.
Watching me quietly, Old Man Hwang grumbled gruffly.
“You know how to appreciate good work, huh. If it had been a weapon commission, I'd have taken it without a word.”
I nodded awkwardly and averted my gaze.
Passing the finely sharpened swords and axes, my eyes caught an old dagger carelessly shoved into a corner of the workbench.
Hm?
It stood out starkly from the others.
No energy emanated from it. Not even a hint of mana, let alone the intimidating presence unique to well-crafted weapons.
Yet for some reason, I couldn't tear my eyes away from that dagger. An inexplicable sense of wrongness pierced through me.
Noticing my stare, Old Man Hwang muttered in a self-deprecating tone.
“Nothing to see there. It's a failed piece.”
His voice carried the deep regret of a craftsman.
“For some reason, the mana won't circulate properly...”
Before he could finish, I walked toward the workbench as if entranced.
“Hey, what are you doing!”
Ignoring the stares around me, I picked up the dagger from the workbench.
A blade carved from an entire massive mana stone.
It was clearly one solid chunk, yet I could feel different energies clashing inside, creating cracks. Why?
“......”
Then, a strange impulse surged within me.
A desire to identify it—no, an instinct that I had to.
So.
Lick—
“Hah.”
I licked the surface of the dagger flat-out.
“Never seen anyone do something that bizarre.”
The old man's incredulous chuckle reached my ears. But I had no attention to spare for that.
An unpleasant sensation spread across my tongue.
Dry and cool.
That much was expected. But mixed in was something intense.
A slimy, oily foulness that disrupted everything, utterly alien.
“M-monster... blood...?”
At those words, Old Man Hwang's expression subtly stiffened.
“S-something... similar... add more, and it might... work...”
Hwang Cheol-jung couldn't believe his eyes.
What did that little girl just say?
Monster blood...?
His heart plummeted to the floor with a thud. How?
“......”
That dagger shoved in the corner of the workbench—it was meant to be his masterpiece, yet it stood as an indelible symbol of failure.
A blade carved from the mana stone of a shadow wolf. To imbue it with special properties, he had mixed in nightfang blood.
But the result was catastrophic failure.
The ferocious energy in the nightfang blood violently clashed with the mana stone's power, completely shattering the material's balance.
He tried adding opposing materials to neutralize it or forcing stabilization magic to suppress it. But every attempt only killed the unique properties, reducing it to an ordinary dagger.
And yet, that girl—no, that young lady...
Add something similar... to lure that ferocious energy elsewhere?
It hit him like a hammer to the head.
Not suppressing or overpowering it, but twisting the flow itself with a different bait? He'd never even considered such an idea.
“Th-this...”
As he lost himself in the new revelation, the girl's trembling voice reached his ears again.
“Use it... to make... a potion...”
The girl held the blueprint that had fallen to the floor earlier.
“To treat injuries... without a healer...”
“What... does that...”
Hunters had only one way to recover from mana-related injuries: relying on a healer's abilities. That was the absolute common sense of this world.
Yet this girl was saying she could heal people with something she made.
Absurd nonsense.
“......”
But just moments ago, her insight had been real. She'd pinpointed the dagger's flaw in an instant and proposed a solution.
His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, unsure how to process her words.
“Old-timer, she's not just saying this.”
Choi Yuna cut in firmly from the side, her eyes dead serious without a flicker of doubt.
“A while back, I nearly retired after getting bit by a Shadow Swamp Viper. One antidote she made cured me right up.”
“...What... did you say...?”
“Do you know how much it cost to make? Thirty thousand won.”
Hwang Cheol-jung swallowed hard.
Shadow Swamp Viper. Its venom wasn't immediately lethal, but infamous for its persistent aftereffects that could ruin a hunter's career.
Hard to fully cure without a healer—and healers wouldn't bother with something like that.
Yet Choi Yuna claimed she'd overcome it with a cheap antidote made by this girl.
A massive shock swept over him.
“......”
A long-forgotten memory rose like hazy mist.
“We have to save people, don't we?”
In the early days of the gate incidents, the world was pure chaos.
People dying helplessly without proper gear. Long before he was blessed with mana, Cheol-jung was already a master smith. His late awakening merely placed the new hammer of mana in his skilled hands.
To protect his comrades, he hammered iron day and night by the fire.
That day was no different. He poured all his skills into crafting the finest armor for his son.
“This one's more than enough. You know how good you are, Dad.”
His son had laughed heartily and entered the gate. He returned as a cold corpse.
The armor was unscratched.
That was when he realized: defense alone couldn't protect anything. Armor that couldn't fell the enemy was just an iron coffin.
From that day, he made only weapons. Ferocious tools infused with killing intent to slice, stab, and smash monsters.
He never touched mediocre armor or support gear again. It was a blood oath he swore to himself before his son's death.
...A potion to heal people.
He'd believed protecting people meant only slaying the enemy. But... was there this path too?
The girl before him sought to save people in an entirely different way. And she'd proven it wasn't bluff with her otherworldly talent and the witness right here.
If everything she said was true...
The old man stood silent for a long while.
He slowly approached me and carefully took the dagger from my hand, handling it like the world's most precious treasure.
After turning it over and over for a good while, a deep sigh escaped his lips. It was a sound laced with resignation and awe, as if a crack had formed in his rigid convictions.
The old man silently picked up the blueprint I'd handed him.
He brushed off the dust on the paper with his palm, his demeanor worlds apart from his earlier arrogance.
After a long, long silence, he finally spoke, his voice thick with tangled emotions.
“A potion, huh. Never even heard of such a thing.”
He scrutinized the blueprint once more, this time with utterly serious eyes.
Then, as if resolved, he looked me straight in the eye.
“...Fine. I'll make it.”
The moment I started to relax at his approval, he added in a low voice.
“But on one condition.”
“...?”
“From now on, you little brat...”
“N-no thanks...”
I shook my head without a second thought.
Who does he think he is, attaching conditions.