The Method to Make the Wall of Lamentation Weep

Crunch.

Something gave under my foot. I looked down to find a broken sword blade, and beside it a spear snapped clean in two at the shaft. A little farther on, weapons of every kind stood planted across the open field like gravestones.

I flipped one of the broken swords over with the toe of my boot. A brand mark glittered at the base of the blade.

"Well, well. Another Meteor."

I wondered how much each of those shattered things had actually cost. At this scale, the money lying on this field had to run into the billions of won.

Tsk. This was exactly why mass-produced goods that charged a fortune for the name on them couldn't be trusted. A regular person's best bang for the buck was always waiting in some back alley.

In the middle of the field, the Armored Armadillo lay sprawled on its belly. Layer upon layer of scales caught the sunlight and gleamed.

The Wailing Wall. The graveyard of rookie hunters. A talent detector.

There was only one strategy: finish it in a single blow before it switched to a defensive stance.

I drew the magic sword from my hip.

Vmmm— vmmmmm—

The magic sword had been crying the whole way here. What started as a gentle vibration had graduated into a full-throated hum. Mana came bouncing up through the hilt, restless and eager.

"I know, I know. Settle down."

It wasn't like I'd taken a giant dog out for a walk.

I slung the sword over my shoulder at an easy angle and measured the distance. The thing noticed me and lifted its head. Eyes the size of millet grains turned in my direction.

Good. Aim for the seam at the nape and end it in one shot.

That was the plan, anyway.

GROOOOOAR!!

The magic sword lost its patience and blasted crimson-black mana in every direction.

A pitch-black shockwave burst from the blade and swept across the field.

My brain, of course, was perfectly fine. Penalty Ignore. Bless that trait.

The problem was everything else.

KYEEEK!?

The Armored Armadillo's eyes snapped wide open. Those millet-grain pupils blew up to the size of saucers, and every iron plate ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on its body started trembling.

Hey. Wait a second.

CRUNCH! CLANK-CLANK!!

In a heartbeat, it rolled itself into a ball. A seamless steel sphere sat alone in the middle of the field, not a single joint in sight.

"……."

Defensive stance. Conversion complete.

"Hey."

Vmmm?

"What did you just do."

Vmmmmm—

The plan to end it in a sneak attack had just sailed off into the sunset.

I sighed and looked at the steel bowling ball. According to the community, once it hit that state you were looking at a siege. Mediocre hunters would pound on that shell until they wore themselves out and gave up.

"Ugh. You are genuinely useless."

Vmmm……

A wilted little vibration traveled into my palm. Acting sorry now, of all times.

"……Whatever. Fine."

If a sneak attack wouldn't work, I'd just go through the front door.

Defensive stance? Shell? A siege?

Crimson-black mana rose off the blade like a heat haze. The magic sword howled with manic delight. Yeah, you're only cooperative at times like this.

Mastery Correction etched a line into my mind. A single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trajectory, piercing straight through the center of the sphere.

I took one step forward, twisted my hips, and drew a horizontal cut.

Shhk.

I withdrew the magic sword and slid it back into its sheath.

A beat later—

CRACK—

A horizon line appeared across the middle of the steel sphere. The line widened, and then the upper half of the sphere slid away as if it had simply lost interest in staying attached.

And behind it.

RUMBLE...!

The rock cliff that had been rising in the background came down with it.

"……Huh."

I'd only meant to cut the shell. The cliff had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not been part of the plan.

The magic sword purred a fat, satisfied vibration into my hand. Apparently it had drunk its fill of blood.

A fist-sized mana stone and a sleek iron armor plate rose from the corpse.

"I'll take it."

I scooped them up and dropped them into my inventory. This was the kind of material that would make research mages and blacksmiths lose their minds.

Alright. Time to clock out.

The instant I stepped out of the gate portal, camera flashes detonated in my face.

PAPAPAPAPAK!!

"Hunter Baek Mujin! Did you see the achievement that just went up in the Hall of Fame?"

"You broke a defensive stance in a single blow — how did you even do that?!"

"Can you tell us about the weapon? Don't tell us it broke again!?"

The crowd had at least doubled since last time. The noise was loud enough to make my ears ring. People in this industry really did love making a scene.

I considered running for it again, then a certain pitiful, penniless blacksmith drifted across my mind.

Right. I'd already decided to become a regular at that workshop. If my regular shop prospered, I would keep getting good swords. And that owner's bank balance had been four thousand won. A little publicity on humanitarian grounds didn't seem like the worst idea.

I stepped up to the microphones.

"The weapon didn't break. It's a masterpiece."

The reporters' eyes lit up.

"Which brand? Meteor, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠assume?"

"It's a custom magic sword I purchased from a back-alley place called Serin Workshop."

"……Serin Workshop?"

"I've never heard that name… is it on the Association's certified workshop list?"

"Or is it some overseas luxury atelier?"

"Just a domestic one-person workshop. The reason it split iron armor is because the sword is that good. If any of you need a decent weapon, I'd suggest paying them a visit."

That was all I had to say. I slipped through the reporters like an eel and got out of there.

Publicity like that, and I wouldn't have to worry about my regular shop going under.

On the way home, I checked the community.

Ding-a-ling.

"Anyone here?"

"Eek! A thief…! I don't have any money! I already spent the deposit on overdue rent and the electricity bill!!"

Han Serin, who had been wiping down the counter, took one look at me, hurled her rag at the ceiling, and toppled over backward.

Thud!

"Ow, ow, ow… u-ugh…"

"That's what you get for treating a person like a thief the moment you see them."

"H-huh…?"

Still sprawled on the floor, Han Serin lifted her head, and her eyes blew up to the size of dinner plates.

"W-why?! How?!"

"Why what."

"Why are you alive!? Why?!"

"Do I need a reason to be alive?"

"Th-the news said you used the magic sword on the fifth floor… th-then by now all the blood in your body should've reversed course and your brain should've melted into silken tofu stew and you should be crawling across the floor… that's what's supposed to happen…!"

"As you can see, all four limbs work and I don't even have a headache."

"That's exactly what's suspicious! What if your corpse is being puppeted by the magic sword and you're walking around like a zombie…!"

Han Serin shot to her feet, poked just her head around the counter, and studied me. She narrowed her eyes, then widened them, then narrowed them again.

Having apparently confirmed I was still human, she pulled out her phone and shoved it in my face. My interview article filled the screen.

"M-more importantly! This! What is this!!"

"Publicity."

"Wh-why would you tell the whole country about our shop!? I-I get it…!"

What did she get this time.

"You're trying to bury me socially! Brand me as 'Han Serin, Magic Sword Terrorist,' and have me publicly executed in front of the Association and the press and the entire nation, isn't that it?! Isn't it?!"

"I don't have hobbies that unpleasant."

"Th-then it's that! A hidden-power ranker…! You were a ranker candidate the government raised in secret, and now you're hiding your identity and having fun tricking a washed-up blacksmith like me! Is it fun, messing with a pathetic blacksmith?!"

There really was no getting through to her. Did the Tower not drop any paranoia medication? This person looked like she needed it badly.

At times like this, it was faster to lead with the actual business.

"Please calm down. I'm not making fun of you."

I took a step closer to the counter.

"I genuinely like your magic swords, that's all. I need the weapons you make."

"……What?"

Han Serin's pupils trembled, just slightly.

"You… need… me?"

"The magic swords."

In an instant, the flush started at her nape and climbed all the way to the tips of her ears, tomato-red.

"P-pr…"

"Pr?"

"A proposal…!?"

How do you even hear it that way.

Han Serin clapped both hands over her face and sank to the floor.

"N-needing a magic sword means… a magic sword is my other self, so… that means you need me… and saying you'll keep me at your side and use me for life is… u-uaaah! That's too dirty! You beast! This is a devil's contract! What kind of things are you saying in the middle of the day!?"

"Excuse me."

"No, but, but the only person who's ever said they needed me is… this is the first time in my life… what do I do… I've only ever been told I make useless garbage… wait, is this a slave contract where you exploit my body and soul? But he'll feed me, right? Do I have to spend the rest of my life locked up as this man's personal blacksmith…?!"

She was off building, demolishing, and rebuilding entire fortresses of delusion all by herself.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm talking about a weapons deal."

"Hyek!?"

Han Serin bounced straight up off the floor.

"I-I-I knew that! O-obviously! I was testing you! There's so much marriage fraud going around these days! I-it was bait I threw out to check whether my customer was a scammer or not!"

"You're the one who brought up marriage."

"I-I never said that! That was an auditory hallucination just now! Your brain is finally starting to melt! See, I told you!!"

Watching her insist with a face that red was so pitiful I decided not to press any further.

Instead, I pulled a thick envelope of cash from my coat and set it on the counter.

"That's the remaining twelve million, plus a little extra for upkeep. And this is a bonus."

Thump.

I followed it with the Iron Carapace, setting it down beside the envelope. The counter gave a groan.

"Material from the fifth floor. I can't use it, so you take it. Put it toward the next sword, or whatever you like."

Han Serin's mouth opened and closed. She looked like a goldfish running out of oxygen.

"Y-you're giving… all of this… to me…?"

"It's per the contract. I told you my ability to pay was solid, didn't I?"

A trembling hand picked up the envelope. The moment she opened it and looked inside, tears welled in her eyes.

"Money… it's real money… it's not paper, it's money…"

"Money is paper, technically."

Han Serin clutched the envelope to her chest. She wore the expression of someone who had just been handed the entire world.

Then, with great care, she drew out a single ten-thousand-won bill and held it up in both hands as if it were a holy relic.

"I'll use the rest to pay off my debts… and with this I'll buy a pork cutlet… extra sauce… double rice too… heheh… I can finally eat a hot meal!"

What on earth had she been surviving on all this time.

"Ma'am."

"Y-yes!"

"I'll be back again soon."

"Th-there's a next time…? Yes! Yes!! Come in! I mean, goodbye! I mean, please come again!!"