Molting
When he came to, he was enveloped in pitch blackness. But he couldn't see anything. He couldn't feel anything. No texture, no sound, no smell, no light—nothing existed. It was a darkness where even the flow of time was imperceptible. Drifting aimlessly, he had forgotten who he even was. The sensation of drifting might have been an illusion. With the boundaries of his body gone, he couldn't distinguish inside from outside. He felt like dust scattered in infinite darkness. His thoughts grew dull, his sense of self fading. Just as he was about to sink completely into the swamp of oblivion—
Something bumped against him with a soft thud. It took a while to even register the contact. His senses were dead, so interpreting the external stimulus took time. But that faint stimulus rippled outward like a wave, awakening dormant nerves.
The rough texture pressing against his palm became clear. It was the grain of wood, worn smooth by years of handling yet etched with deep grooves from sweat and calluses. A fragment of memory buried deep in his mind surfaced. This was a hammer handle. The one he had gripped thousands, tens of thousands of times.
As thoughts multiplied, his sense of touch revived. Starting from his fingertips, the sensation climbed his arms and spread through his body. Sweltering heat enveloped his skin. A familiar warmth filled the space. It was the hot, dry air in front of the furnace. Occasionally, a stinging pain prickled. Sparks leaping from the fire, scorching his flesh. Recalling the sparks brought a acrid scent to his nostrils—sulfur, burning coal, the metallic tang of heated iron. The forge's unique aroma wafted like perfume.
Soon, taste returned to his mouth. The sweet coolness of water wetting his parched lips. The memory of gulping down a refreshing mouthful after grueling labor revived his palate.
As awareness sharpened, hearing came alive. Crackle, crackle. Kindling burning away as coal crumbled. Hiss. Freshly drawn metal from the furnace meeting the air. Clang! Clang! The clear strike of hammer on anvil. Sizzle. Quenching a red-hot blade in oil. Shh, scrape. The delicate friction of whetstone on edge.
The flood of sounds drove back the darkness. Finally realizing his own existence, he opened his eyes.
"......"
Seojun opened his eyes to the familiar ceiling of the forge. But the atmosphere was different from usual. A heavy silence pressed down on the air. Looking around, he saw familiar figures.
[Master!] Haran rushed over, her hanbok skirts fluttering. Even without facial features, her aura radiated deep anxiety.
[Are you okay? Are you back? Do you recognize me?]
Seojun stared blankly before slowly nodding.
"Haran... nim?"
[Thank goodness...]
Only then did Haran relax, her tension easing. In contrast, Doyokshini, standing a bit farther away, said calmly,
"You've returned without being consumed. That's fortunate."
Her composed attitude seemed to irk Haran, who shot up and glared at her.
[Fortunate? Is that really what you want to say right now?]
Haran's telepathic voice sliced sharply through the space.
[This is all because you rushed him! Demanding so much material—he molted because of that!]
Doyokshini's eyebrow twitched. But she shrugged nonchalantly.
"Rushed? I merely entrusted him with commissions befitting his ability. And for one becoming a kaeyi, it's a necessary process."
[Don't make me laugh! Taking in kaeyi essence so rapidly can crush your very existence!]
"Many fade away gradually, losing even their awareness."
Haran and Doyokshini clashed fiercely. A menacing aura began to leak out, warping the space around them.
"I held your blacksmith in higher regard than you think. I saw his potential, so I entrusted him with my soldiers' armaments. And in the end, he overcame it, did he not?"
[Just because the outcome was good makes it all right? What if he failed? Would you take responsibility?]
"If he had failed... that would have been fate as well."
Doyokshini's cold reply ignited Haran's fury. The furnishings in the forge began to rattle.
[You stubborn goblin...!]
"Mind your tongue. A wandering lost soul that fits nowhere dares to... "
Blue light flashed in Doyokshini's eyes. The dignity of a goblin general poured forth. Overwhelmed by the vast gap, Haran's momentum faltered. But she stood her ground despite her inferiority.
"Let's calm down for now."
Seojun's low voice halted their confrontation. He still hadn't fully shaken off the assimilation's effects—his memories were hazy. But one recollection stood vivid.
"Thanks to you saying I could overcome it, I made it through."
Haran and Doyokshini looked baffled at his words. When they arrived, drawn by the unnatural aura from the forge, Seojun had already collapsed, assimilated.
[I never said that.]
"Nor did I."
Seojun frowned in confusion. The faint voice had been familiar. But rummaging through his memories only left a noisy echo of familiarity.
What the...?
As questions piled up and his thoughts deepened, he suddenly noticed his surroundings felt different. Everything was far sharper, more three-dimensional. His hearing was abnormally acute, sounds almost visualized. His vision caught the dance of fine dust in the air and the flow of currents.
"This is..."
He absently picked up a hammer lying on the floor. Information flooded his mind through touch—not just the handle's texture, but the intertwined wood fibers inside, the iron head's density and hardness. He could feel the material's very properties through his skin.
"Why is it so light?"
It was his usual hammer, heavy and substantial. But now it felt like a feather. Unconsciously, he gripped it hard.
Crack.
A gruesome snap, and the sturdy handle crumbled.
"...?"
Seojun stared blankly at the broken handle. It had shattered like rotten wood under his grip.
"No need to panic."
Doyokshini eyed the ruined hammer and spoke.
"You've shed the vessel of a human body. This is only natural."
"I've become a kaeyi?"
"Not quite. You've merely drawn closer to kaeyi, if only faintly."
[You're not so different from a human yet.]
Haran's telepathy mixed pity and pride.
"Closer to kaeyi..."
To be sure, he stood and checked his reflection in the mirror. Seojun looked unchanged. If anything, he seemed a bit more vital. Considering the punishing workload that would exhaust any body, it was remarkable.
[Even faintly, a kaeyi's body differs from a human's...]
"Especially yours—far beyond an ordinary kaeyi."
Haran continued with worried telepathy.
[But we can see it. The aura emanating from you, Master.]
From the kaeyi's perspective, Seojun's presence had changed dramatically.
"Do you know what that means?"
Seojun fell silent at Doyokshini's question. He had an inkling, but no certainty.
"The aura you emit will stir curiosity among kaeyi. Far more—and far stronger—ones than before may come calling."
Until now, Haran's care and Doyokshini's authority had kept lesser kaeyi at bay. But this new kaeyi presence would pique their interest and draw them in.
[I'm sorry, Master. I'm not enough...]
Haran was genuinely apologetic, blaming herself for failing her promised protection.
Doyokshini glanced at the completed armaments and said,
"I must soon return to command my soldiers. The northern reaches of the peninsula lie leaderless—foreign entities must be swept away before they ravage it."
With hordes of kaeyi incoming, he'd have to stand alone. Fear might have crept in at the thought. But Seojun's mind was strangely serene. Instead, something hot stirred in his chest. The heightened senses, overflowing power, coexistence with kaeyi—all paths he had chosen.
[Should I ask the Hahoe Mask grandpa?]
"I'm fine."
Seojun spoke steadily, his voice firm.
"You've already done more than enough looking out for me."
Even difficult customers were customers. He'd dealt with plenty in running the forge. Though a kaeyi troublemaker was another level.
"And if many kaeyi come, that means more materials, right?"
It was only the true beginning—he couldn't stop now. Honing his skills against diverse kaeyi. He had to reach that miracle.
"As expected of the blacksmith. Your guts impress me."
[Then there's no helping it...]
Haran and Doyokshini saw the resolve in his eyes. It was no reckless oath.
"That said..."
Seojun looked between the two kaeyi.
"I need to learn to control my strength first. At this rate, every hammer I grab will snap."
The tools scattered on the workbench looked precarious. His current grip strength would twist the forge tongs like taffy.
"Mastering your aura to conceal it would be ideal. And..."
Doyokshini gathered the armaments and continued, her eyes showing genuine concern.
"Avoid kaeyi-izing for a while."
[Because it's finally asleep...]