The Legacy of the Geumgang Furnace
Kim Gyucheol blinked several times.
Why had things turned out like this…?
After the exam ended, Kim Gyucheol received his results.
The outcome was, of course, failure.
After listening to Yujun, he had completely botched the practical test.
Of course, his written scores were poor enough that he probably would have failed anyway.
But regardless of the reason, he had actually come to tell Kang Yujun that it was fine.
The treatment didn’t matter.
He probably couldn’t fix it anyway.
So he wanted to say that worrying about someone hopeless like him was simply a waste of time.
He had meant to politely decline, yet somehow he had ended up asking for a favor instead.
“……”
The sight of the man turning away without the slightest hesitation filled him with anxiety. He had told himself he wasn’t expecting anything, but the truth was that he had been hoping.
That was why the words had slipped out.
“Haaaaah……”
If it had come to this, then so be it.
“I’ll be in your care, Mr. Yujun.”
Kim Gyucheol bowed deeply from the waist, his voice filled with earnest respect.
He had decided not to weigh the odds any longer.
In truth, there had never been anything to weigh.
The only reason he had been so restless was the fear that hope would only make the eventual despair that much heavier.
If there truly was no solution, then he had no choice but to believe Yujun’s claim that he could fix it. No—he wanted to believe it with every fiber of his being.
“It doesn’t matter what request you make of me. If you can heal this arm, I will do anything.”
“Very well.”
Inside a shared training room near the certification center, Yujun led Kim Gyucheol into an empty space and gestured for him to follow.
“Before we begin training, I need to hear your story in detail.”
As he spoke, Yujun pulled up the man’s status window.
Even on a second look, it’s terrible.
“How exactly did your arm end up in this condition?”
Kim Gyucheol let out a long sigh at the question, then began to speak.
“Since you already know some of it, I’ll speak plainly. I was born into the Geumgang Kim Family.”
From early childhood, Kim Gyucheol had received the education reserved for prodigies.
The Geumgang Kim Family was renowned for artifact crafting. Every blacksmith born into the clan possessed formidable innate talent.
They were so gifted with their hands that calling them elite awakeners was no exaggeration. Most could craft decent artifacts before they even entered elementary school.
His siblings and cousins had all displayed overwhelming talent from a young age. Even with their small, childlike hands, they produced artifacts worthy of adult awakeners. Their gifts needed no further proof.
The family elders had turned their attention to Kim Gyucheol, the youngest of his generation.
But Gyucheol lacked talent.
Or rather, it felt as if something inside him was blocked. He understood everything in his head, yet his hands refused to follow through.
When he failed to grow as expected, the criticism and finger-pointing began.
From the family elders.
From his cousins.
Even from his own parents.
Kim Gyucheol had lived his entire life under the weight of constant comparison.
“Everyone condemned me. It was only natural.”
But it wasn’t natural.
Kang Yujun, who understood the pain behind those words, frowned.
“I wanted to prove myself.”
He wanted to make them smile. He wanted recognition from the very people who had tormented, criticized, and condemned him.
So he reached for something he should never have touched.
“I tried to use the Geumgang Furnace that had been passed down through the family for generations. I thought that if I could forge equipment with it, I could turn everything around.”
His hand trembled.
The memory was still painfully vivid—the moment he had slipped into the chamber reserved only for the family’s senior members.
“The Geumgang Furnace was there. I tried to light it, but the fire wouldn’t catch no matter what I did. In the end, I simply left.”
And after that day, his arm had become like this.
“I’m not certain it was because of the furnace… but my condition definitely worsened afterward.”
Kim Gyucheol gently stroked his ruined arm.
“Even as a child, it was difficult to use my arm properly. I knew what to do in my head, but my hands simply wouldn’t obey.”
He sighed again and continued.
“Using mana was especially difficult.”
Yujun listened in silence, sinking deep into thought.
This doesn’t seem like a problem caused solely by the furnace.
The furnace had merely triggered it. The root issue had existed since childhood.
It may be an ability so powerful that it burns the mana circuits.
His body might have been too weak to endure such strength from a young age.
So something was deliberately suppressing it.
Yet the Geumgang Furnace had stimulated that power, piercing straight through his body.
“Have you ever properly used your ability before?”
“It’s… ambiguous.”
He possessed mana, so he was undoubtedly an awakener.
But he had never truly used his power.
Kim Gyucheol scratched the back of his neck.
“The truth is, I don’t even know exactly what my ability is.”
Yujun already knew.
Geumgang Hand.
The golden hand.
The fact that he had never once used it made the answer obvious.
His body instinctively rejected the Geumgang Hand.
Perhaps the Geumgang Furnace had actually broken that suppression.
In that case…
It wasn’t a disease or a curse.
Rather, the Geumgang Furnace had helped him.
To confirm, Yujun asked, “Did it hurt when it happened?”
“…No, it didn’t hurt at all. Actually, there was a sensation. A refreshing, cooling feeling. That’s why I thought everything might change. I believed I might finally be able to use my ability properly—or that the power passed down through the family had finally taken root inside me.”
This is it.
Yujun felt certain now.
There is no separate illness.
The problem was growing simpler by the moment.
The issue itself is simple, but solving it… hmm.
Kim Gyucheol briefly recounted the rest of his life.
He had eventually fled the family. He tried everything to heal his arm, but the condition only continued to deteriorate.
“Just as you said, the sensation in my left arm is beginning to fade as well.”
After hearing the full story, Yujun nodded and placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.
“You’ve suffered greatly.”
He knew exactly how that kind of pain felt.
That was why he offered comfort in the calmest tone he could manage.
“I thought the Geumgang Kim Family was a prestigious house of master artisans. It seems they cannot recognize a diamond in the rough. So I will examine you myself.”
Gyucheol nodded, his eyes growing moist for the first time.
It was the first genuine comfort he had ever received in his life.
So this condition had been with him since childhood.
Yujun examined his body once more with careful focus.
Concentration skill proficiency has increased!
He then placed his hand on Gyucheol’s right arm and began to stimulate it, sending faint threads of mana into the limb to observe the reaction.
He was searching for something foreign. Something out of place. He needed to understand exactly what the Geumgang Furnace had done to Kim Gyucheol’s body.
“…!”
Something caught Yujun’s senses.
The endpoint.
At the burned-out end of the mana circuit, he felt a strange power.
This is a cryogenic burn.
It wasn’t merely damage to the mana circuits.
It seems he suffered an invisible burn the moment he touched that furnace.
Yujun activated the training hint once again.
I already used a training hint on Kim Gyucheol earlier.
That meant he would need to spend points.
You can refresh the Training Hint by consuming 5P.
Ding!
Training Hint has been granted!
[Cryogenic Burn, Condition Worsening from Status Abnormality Burn, Flame Removal, Mana Circuit Reconstruction.]
First, I remove the cryogenic burn.
Solving that part was straightforward.
I simply need to reconstruct the burned mana circuits.
But reconstructing mana circuits was something even veteran trainers found difficult.
Normally this would require an awakener-specialized physician. However…
Yujun smiled.
I can do it.
Shaaaaaaaak—.
Yujun drew up his mana.
Quite a lot has accumulated.
“…!”
I suppose I can’t go around claiming I’m not an awakener anymore.
Kim Gyucheol’s face filled with shock.
He had been told the man had never awakened, yet the mana radiating from him was far too powerful for an ordinary person.
Yujun paid no attention to the reaction and focused completely.
“Huuuuuuu.”
This was a moment that demanded total concentration.
Mana circuit reconstruction was considered high-difficulty even within the Infinite Tower. Most users avoided this training method.
In the beginning, he hadn’t even included awakeners who needed this kind of training in his program.
But Yujun had changed that.
Those whose mana circuits had collapsed often possessed tremendous latent talent. If the circuits were properly rebuilt, they could bloom into something extraordinary.
It’s connected to the reason the circuits burn in the first place.
When the mana roads are too weak to handle a powerful ability, they cannot endure and simply burn away.
Thinking in reverse, then…
It meant that many of those with burned circuits possessed incredibly strong abilities.
I’ll connect them.
“Try using your ability. It doesn’t matter if you can’t activate it properly.”
Simply attempting to use the ability would cause the mana roads to move, allowing him to examine the burned circuits.
Confirm the original form.
He needed to see what it had looked like before the damage.
Shaaaaaaaak—.
Gyucheol drew up his power.
It’s been completely crushed.
Everything had burned away so thoroughly that not even traces remained.
But that was fine.
I’ve reconstructed far worse than this.
Though he had never actually done it in reality, he could verify each part step by step.
There’s a crack.
And there—faintly leaking through—was a blue light.
The blue light that revealed one’s potential was outlining the shape of the mana circuit. Yujun began to weave that light back together.
Sharak—.
He inserted his mana.
First, clear out all the residue.
Yujun vibrated the mana he had sent inside.
Goooooooooong—.
Vibrating mana required advanced control.
But I’ve simulated this tens of thousands of times in my mind. It’s certainly different from the game, yet…
Yujun smiled.
It’s actually easier.
Shalararak—.
The mana vibrated with even greater intensity.
Much easier.