Rules of the Forge
Seojun reflexively staggered back. His work chair clattered against him. But Haran paid it no mind and closed in right up to his face. The hem of her pristine white skirt brushed his knee.
“......”
Seojun swallowed dryly, steadying his pounding heart. Close as she was, he could examine her unmasked face in detail. And that brought a strange sense of dissonance.
The face he remembered had been perfectly smooth, egg-ghost smooth—no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Just a blank porcelain shell. But now it was different. The contours had shifted subtly. Like wet clay molded by hand, eyelids had formed around her eyes, the bridge of her nose had risen, and the curve of her lips had been etched in.
Her face... it's developing?
It was the kind of sight that would make an ordinary person scream. Something half-formed was far more terrifying than nothing at all. The primal revulsion toward a being that mimicked humanity without being human.
Yet Seojun felt no such repulsion. The bizarre transformation felt... natural, even. Like watching a rough gem undergo meticulous cutting and polishing to become a jewel.
Master, your face looks like dirt.
Come to think of it, even her tone had changed. Especially since it came through telepathy—the shift in atmosphere came across clearly.
Is it because my kaeyi affinity has increased?
He had no explanation for the sudden change, but one thing was certain. The egg ghost before him bore him no ill will.
“N-nice to... meet you.”
Seojun regained his composure and replied. Haran's lips and eyes seemed to curve upward in a smile.
“I was just having a nightmare...”
Stepping carelessly into illusions is dangerous.
“How did you...”
Half-baked kaeyi reek strongly.
Haran wrinkled her nose in a sniffing gesture. Combined with her direct gaze, it felt like she was seeing right through him. He stood and casually put some distance between them.
=Trust nothing.
The cryptic words Sintanjae had written lingered in his mind.
“Anyway, what brings you to the forge...”
The Hahoe Mask old man came by?
“Yes.”
You heard about me from the old man?
Haran circled Seojun playfully, like a curious child craving attention—or a beast marking its territory.
“I heard your name.”
My name?
“Haran. Yi Haran.”
Haran froze mid-step. Her skirt fluttered and wrapped around her legs like a coil. He averted his eyes from the stark exposure—just then.
Master, call my name.
“Lady... Haran?”
That's it.
Haran sat contentedly on the workbench, swinging her legs. She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it out.
Master.
Haran tilted her head, calling to him. With her faint features emerging, she almost looked full of curiosity.
Are you using my gift well?
“Very usefully. It has properties no ordinary material could produce.”
Right? It's top-grade from the latest harvest.
Haran shrugged proudly. Even her subtle features conveyed satisfaction.
“Harvest?”
Want to know?
“...No need.”
Seojun had no desire to uncover uncomfortable truths. Even if he knew, he'd have no choice but to use it.
If you run low, just say so. For you, Master, I'll bring more anytime.
“I'm good for now.”
Haran hopped down from the workbench. Hands clasped behind her back, she slowly toured the forge interior. Her white skirt swept the floor without picking up a speck of dust.
Master, you know what?
Haran stopped before the anvil. She traced its cold surface with a finger.
Word's spreading on our side.
“Word?”
About a blacksmith who welcomes kaeyi.
Haran chattered on telepathically, amusement laced with displeasure.
To kaeyi, blacksmiths are precious. Presence matters to us, and a skilled one can craft items that amplify it.
Listening, Seojun understood the reason for Haran's drastic change. The mask he'd made had boosted her presence.
Thanks to that, my power's grown stronger. Thank you.
Haran turned away shyly, mumbling. But her telepathy shifted—now sharp, like nails on steel.
The problem is the ones drawn by the rumors.
“More customers should be a good thing, right?”
Not everyone's as rational as me or the Hahoe Mask old man. Some are just hollow shells driven by desire.
A chill ran down Seojun's spine. The weight of "hollow shells of desire" hit hard.
There are gentlemanly ones, sure—but also mindless wraiths. They're dangerous. No talking to them. They just hunger.
By Haran's explanation, kaeyi society was a brutal food chain. Those with strong presence kept their reason and built domains. The fading ones acted on instinct, devouring or stealing anything to persist.
“Should I close the forge then?”
No need.
Haran shook her head firmly. Her shadow stretched long, blanketing the forge floor. The air grew heavy in an instant. An overwhelming presence dominated the space.
The truly dangerous ones? I'll block them. I won't tolerate threats to my master in my domain. I can even seal off their scent.
A reassuring offer. But her words left a subtle aftertaste.
But the tiny, faint ones... even I can't do much.
“Tiny and faint ones?”
Mere scraps with barely any presence. Fleas or mosquitoes. They can slip into my domain.
A big net catches fish but not grains of sand. Haran clearly defined her domain's limits.
If scraps show up, you'll have to handle them yourself, Master.
“Me? I'm just an ordinary human. I have no confidence in overpowering them by force.”
Seojun looked at his palms. Callused, rough hands. He was used to swinging a hammer, but fighting was another matter. Against kaeyi? No chance.
Not with force.
Haran continued kindly.
Make rules, like a kaeyi would.
“Rules?”
Kaeyi are bound by rules. This is your forge, right? You set the rules here.
“Rules...”
Seojun mulled the word over. In the kaeyi world, rules were absolute truths.
Set clear rules, and scraps won't dare approach. That's kaeyi power.
Seojun nodded, grasping the idea. A certain item came to mind. He fished a ring set with a red gem from his pocket—the seal ring from the vampire.
“Could this help, maybe?”
The gem gleamed iridescently under the workshop lights. He held it out to Haran with quiet hope.
“The customer who gave it said it keeps lowly kaeyi at bay.”
Haran stared at the ring. As her gaze touched it, the fiery red glow dimmed instantly—like prey holding its breath before a predator.
Hmm.
Haran snorted dismissively. She flicked the ring with a slender finger; it rolled aside limply.
It might help a bit, but only against dust-bunnies.
“Dust-bunnies...”
Yeah. Fresh scraps barely sprouted into the world. So faint they could vanish anytime.
Seojun sheepishly pocketed the ring again. Wishful thinking was off the table. He had to protect himself and the forge with his own power.
For rule advice: this is a forge, and you're the blacksmith. Beware glitches—rules mean nothing against them.
With that final warning, Haran stepped down from the workbench. Her form began to fade, blurring the line between reality and unreality.
I'll come again. Make something more fun next time.
With a playful parting thought, Haran dissolved into the air. Once even that lingering telepathy vanished, silence settled over the forge.
But it was a different kind of silence than before.
“Rules...”
Seojun stood before the anvil. The cold metal's touch traveled up his fingertips.
I need to make rules.
This was his forge. To protect it and himself, no holds barred.
“{If you're a guest, act like one.}”
The conviction rising from within aligned perfectly with his thoughts. Kaeyi transformation or not, Seojun instinctively forged the rule.