Whose Sake Does the Hammer Ring For?
Cheong shook her head from side to side, the white veil fluttering, as she greeted the guests.
“Oh my, look at this. Aren’t these our friends?”
“……?”
“Yeah, what brings you all the way out here? What business could you possibly have in this rundown old smithy?”
The gangsters hesitated. What the hell? Did she know them? Why was she acting so chummy? Was she one of theirs? Maybe she was from the Sadoryeon?
“Um, who might you be…….”
“Would you even know if I told you? Come on, come on. So. Why are you here? I haven’t been in this neighborhood long, so I don’t really know what’s going on.”
In truth, the gangsters also had a prepared set of lines for when the other party came on strong. If Cheong had shouted something like, “You scoundrels! What are you doing to these innocent civilians!” the way an Orthodox Path warrior would, the gangsters would have had a textbook response ready.
We are the heroes of the Namyun Sect! If you touch us, the Namyun Sect won’t sit still, and if the Namyun Sect won’t sit still, all the Unorthodox factions in the city won’t sit still, and if all the Unorthodox factions in the city won’t sit still, the government officials we’ve been feeding won’t sit still either!
They had been ready to spit all that out in rough, vulgar accents mixed with curses.
But acting all casual and friendly like this? That was usually the attitude high-ranking, infamous madu showed toward cute little Unorthodox Path sprouts.
Of course, the madu didn’t act friendly because they found their juniors adorable. It was usually because they wanted to devour them.
That was just how senior-junior relationships worked among Unorthodox Path bastards.
Which was why the gangsters grew even more tense.
“W-we are warriors of the Namyun Sect.”
“Namyun? Ramen? Hey, little brother, can you explain?”
“The Namyun Sect rose to prominence about ten years ago. Their leader is apparently a leper. I believe his realm is at the Transcendent level.”
“Ah. That Namyun? Oh man, now I want ramen.”
Jegal Ihyeon scratched his chin. No matter how he thought about it, he had never heard of a dish called ramen. But the Central Plains were vast, and if one were to list every regional dish, they could talk from birth until death and still not finish. So it wasn’t strange.
And Jegal Ihyeon was not the type to hold back when curious.
To be precise, he could not endure not knowing.
“Sister, this unworthy younger brother has never heard of a dish called ramen. Which region’s cuisine is it?”
“Hmm. Around here they call it napmyeon.”
“Ah, a dialect. Understood.”
The Namyun Sect warriors saw Jegal Ihyeon and froze even stiffer. The weaker a warrior was, the more they obsessed over the opponent’s external arts level. And since unrefined low-level warriors judged external arts purely by size and muscle, a giant muscular man like him was already equivalent to an absolute expert in their eyes.
And on top of that, he called her sister!
“Alright. So what’s the matter?”
“Well… that old man dared to defy the Namyun Sect’s orders, so we came to teach him a lesson……”
“Teach him a lesson? Can you be a bit more specific?”
Overwhelmed by Jegal Ihyeon, the Namyun Sect warriors obediently spilled their purpose. The fact that Cheong had acted somewhat friendly also played a part.
Elder Ban was the greatest artisan in Jumadian. To call him the best in Jumadian was actually an understatement. Even if you expanded the scope to all of Henan Province, he was still one of the few renowned masters.
The only problem was that his specialty was limited to farming tools.
No matter how outstanding a blacksmith, if the field was different, they couldn’t produce masterpieces. A master swordsman could swing a half-sword roughly, but they could never be called a master of the half-sword, could they?
The issue was that a sword Elder Ban had made in his youth had been discovered. And it was quite the famous blade.
In other words, Elder Ban wasn’t incapable of making swords—he simply refused to!
Skilled swordsmiths were treasured figures that every sect fought to recruit. Between two warriors of perfectly equal skill, the superiority of their weapons could decide victory or defeat. Even beyond that, warriors’ obsession with better weapons was something even masters of bare-handed techniques couldn’t hide.
And the finest swordsmith in Jumadian naturally belonged to the Namyun Sect, the head of the city’s Unorthodox factions.
“So you’re saying you need to take Elder Ban with you?”
“No, we gave up on that long ago. That old man is incredibly stubborn……”
Elder Ban had sworn an oath never to make weapons again. There were actually quite a few artisans in the Central Plains who refused to forge weapons despite having the ability. If you tossed a single silver coin to a street storyteller, you could listen to tragic tales about them all day long.
No matter how much they coaxed, begged, or threatened him, Elder Ban remained unmoved. He would rather die than make a sword. He didn’t even budge when they kidnapped his grandson to threaten him.
So the leader of the Namyun Sect thought:
If I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it.
How can I make an example of him? Right. Let’s starve him to death.
If the others see what happens to someone who dares defy the Namyun Sect, they won’t dare think of rebelling.
“Aha. So every time a customer comes, you show up to chase them away, huh?”
“Yes… that’s pretty much how it turned out……”
The Namyun Sect warriors answered, half nervous as they watched her reaction. But the next words from Cheong made their expressions relax considerably.
“Wow, you guys have it rough. Really rough. So you’ve been watching the smithy all day to see if he lights the forge or not?”
“That’s right. We take turns making sure no one gives the old man anything to eat. But some dog-like bastard keeps secretly slipping him food, so the old man won’t die. And the higher-ups just keep nagging us, saying we’re not blocking him properly……”
Such was the life of a low-ranking warrior. Especially for Unorthodox Path bastards—it was even worse.
“Sounds like a hard life. Want me to help you out?”
“If you’re thinking of speaking to the higher-ups for us, we’re fine, so you really don’t have to……”
“No. We need to remove the root cause.”
“Pardon?”
“Life’s hard? Then just stop living. What’s the point of continuing a life where you only choose to do bad things?”
“……?”
Cheong thrust out her left hand. But when she felt nothing in her grasp, she frowned deeply and looked at Jegal Ihyeon.
“Jegal, when I say ‘hand it over,’ you hand it over. Like this, tap the Boksinjeok! Didn’t you see how my sworn sister did it earlier?”
“Ah, my mistake, Sister. Please excuse me.”
Cheong took the Boksinjeok in her hand. Immediately after, an absurdly powerful surge of qi erupted from the ten-thousand-year cold iron short rod.
At some point, Dang Nan-a had taken position behind them with her poison whip in hand, guarding the smithy entrance, while Gyeon Po-hui stood beside her, cutely raising a fist with three fingers extended to shoulder height.
The Namyun Sect warriors, now trapped from both front and back, turned deathly pale and spoke with utmost politeness.
“Um, if there’s something that displeased you, couldn’t we resolve it through conversation?”
“What conversation could there be with Unorthodox Path vermin? I’m from the Sinnyeo Sect. This guy is from the Jegal Clan. That one with the nasty face is from the Tang Clan. And next to her is… um… from the Seolga Trading Company?”
At that, Gyeon Po-hui made a tearful face. But it wasn’t like she could say she was from the Hwanhuigung or the Demonic Cult.
After thinking for a moment, Cheong corrected herself.
“Scratch the Seolga Trading Company. She’s my sworn sister.”
Gyeon Po-hui’s expression brightened again. She seemed satisfied.
The Namyun Sect warriors, however, were not.
Aside from the Seolga Trading Company, those were all names known throughout the martial world.
“Goddamn it! Attack!”
Even among underlings there was a hierarchy, so the highest-ranking one among them shouted. At the same time, he immediately leaped sideways.
One charged at Cheong as ordered, while another jumped backward, attempting to break through the entrance.
Cheong calmly watched the Namyun Sect warrior rushing toward her. He was charging with his sword raised high overhead. Whether he was a Murim warrior or a samurai, his torso was completely exposed. It was a gap so wide it might as well have been a polite request: “Please stab my torso.”
So Cheong simply thrust the Boksinjeok forward.
The short rod, filled with brutal force, sank into his upper abdomen and angled upward, piercing straight to his heart.
“Ugh.”
The wicked Unorthodox Path bastard couldn’t even bring down the sword he had raised overhead. It clattered to the ground.
“Uh… uh……”
In the Central Plains, there was a weapon called a blood awl—a hollow, perforated awl. When it pierced the heart, blood would rush in through the holes and gush out in a spectacular fountain.
That was exactly what was happening from Cheong’s hand right now.
Blood spurted rhythmically from every air hole in the Boksinjeok, matching the heartbeat. The sticky sensation soaking her hand felt so familiar. The blood touching her hands, which were always cold from demonic arts, felt so hot it seemed like it might burn her.
Cheong couldn’t control her expression and broke into a savage smile that stretched ear to ear. It was a good thing she was wearing the veil.
Jegal Ihyeon frowned at the sight.
“Ugh, Sister. Doesn’t it feel gross having blood get inside your flute?”
“It’ll wash off. Whatever. Would a warrior be picky about their weapon?”
“Even if you try to gloss over it with such cool words, the Boksinjeok isn’t a weapon to begin with. However!”
Jegal Ihyeon suddenly spat as he spoke.
“As expected, that flashy and bewitching eloquence of yours remains unchanged! To make the enemy spill every bit of information without any torture or persuasion whatsoever! This foolish younger brother is moved! Moved once again! I was starting to suspect you might actually just be a dumb woman lately, but you have completely shattered my foolish thoughts!”
“What the? Why does it feel weird even though I’m being praised?”
Anyway, after getting a proper taste of blood for the first time in a while, Cheong was extremely satisfied. Piercing soft skin and then the tough heart muscle had let her savor both a soft and a rough sensation at once. And since she had stabbed with the Boksinjeok, the blood gushed out like a fountain. Oh, this was a complete rediscovery of the flute’s potential. It was a discovery that would make Ban Chi shed tears of blood from the afterlife.
The group’s martial prowess was far too excessive for dealing with mere neighborhood Unorthodox Path trash.
The one who ran for the door had a hole punched clean through his head by Gyeon Po-hui’s finger strike, with a bit of brain matter leaking out. The one who tried to run alone was in slightly better shape. He had Dang Nan-a’s whip wrapped around his neck, eyes rolled back, foaming at the mouth.
“Why did that guy faint?”
“The fire ant poison got into his artery. He probably felt like his entire body was burning.”
“Hmm.”
Or maybe he was the most pitiful one.
It was then.
“You son of a bitch!”
Elder Ban suddenly charged forward with bloodshot eyes. He was holding a massive hammer high overhead in the exact same stance Cheong had seen earlier. The foaming warrior was lying on the ground with the whip wrapped around his neck like a scarf.
Cheong lightly flew forward using the pinnacle of the Moon Maiden’s Graceful Steps, the Void Leap, and blocked the old man’s path.
“Wait a moment, Grandpa.”
“Move! I’m going to smash that bastard’s skull to pieces! That damn bastard!”
“I understand how you feel, but you’re someone who refuses to make swords. Would it be right to kill someone with a hammer?”
“But that guy, that guy……!”
“Aah. Can’t be helped. How about this instead?”
Cheong casually placed the sole of her shoe on top of the fallen Unorthodox Path warrior’s head. His knees trembled for a moment as he applied force, and then—
Crunch.
In truth, the moment Cheong said “can’t be helped,” her expression behind the veil had already bloomed into a wide, joyful smile.
Cheong wobbled for a moment as if losing her balance. To the others, it looked like she was shocked by the sensation. And she was shocked.
Whoa…… This is fucking amazing. How long has it been? Hmm, maybe it’s been too long. It feels too stimulating.
How many spare panties did I pack again?
One could say that Choe-ri-ong’s foresight in preparing the veil was shining brighter than the sun itself.
But good was good, and the sticky feeling on the bottom of her shoe made it twice as unpleasant. Cheong chose a clean spot on the floor and scraped her shoe against it.
Having witnessed the gruesome death of the Namyun Sect warrior, Elder Ban stared blankly at the corpse instead of offering any words of appreciation. Then he cleared his throat loudly, gathered phlegm, and spat it right into the middle of the broken remains.
Seeing that, Cheong spoke again.
“Grandpa, but don’t we have something to talk about too?”
At that, Elder Ban subtly avoided her gaze.
Cheong shifted into a crooked stance and continued pressing him.
“You said it wasn’t just a day or two, right? You must have known these guys would come rushing in the moment you lit the forge.”