The Kaeyi Blacksmith
Clang! Clang! The sound of hammering iron echoed regularly through the forge. Wiping the sweat beading on his forehead, Seojun glared at the red-hot iron plate. It was a routine D-rank armor repair. But he strained not to miss even the slightest curve on its surface.
{It's still not enough...}
'Don't give in to the whispers.'
Seojun ignored the voice murmuring in his mind. It was a symptom that cropped up every time he worked since undergoing kaeyi transformation. It tormented him like an endless thirst, but all he could do was endure.
'It's enough now.'
Monster Affinity triggered kaeyi transformation, but it also heightened his senses and physical abilities. What used to take considerable time now took half as long, and tasks impossible without machines became feasible with tools alone. Naturally, Seojun's skills had sharpened, drawing more commissions.
"Boss? You here?"
A clear voice shattered his reverie right on cue. Seojun set down his tongs and turned. A familiar face: Han Yura, the hunter who'd commissioned that mad dog scabbard.
"Yes, I'm here."
He greeted her warmly. But she wasn't alone this time. A burly man and a sharp-featured woman followed behind her. Their gear bore the mark of a silver sunray piercing through clouds.
'Silver Lining Guild.'
A mid-tier guild with a solid reputation in the industry.
"Let me introduce them. This is our guild master, A-rank hunter Park Cheolwoo, and our vice guild master, B-rank hunter Lee Sujin. I've been singing your praises nonstop—said you've got real skill."
Han Yura smiled as she spoke. At her waist hung the scabbard Seojun had made, scarred from countless battles yet still cradling her blade securely.
"Nice to meet you. Park Cheolwoo."
The guild master extended a thick, callused hand—heavy with the marks of someone who wielded shields as a tank.
"Seojun Im. What brings you here?"
Park Cheolwoo scanned the forge interior before meeting Seojun's eyes squarely.
"Straight to the point. We're prepping for a tough dungeon raid. Cold-attribute type."
"Cold... So standard cold-weather gear won't cut it?"
"Not even close. Sub-zero eighty degrees or lower—extreme conditions. The problem isn't the monsters; it's our gear. Weapons and shields made of ordinary steel lose durability fast in that cold. They shatter like glass on the slightest impact."
Lee Sujin chimed in from the side.
"We've tried off-the-shelf cold-resistant coated gear, but the coating peels after a few hits. Yura recommended you—said you'd have the answer."
Seojun stroked his chin. Metal brittleness: at low temperatures, atomic movement slows, making it prone to fracturing without absorbing shock. To counter it, he'd need special alloys or mana-circulating structures to generate heat.
"Did you bring materials?"
"Yeah. Saved up big for this."
Park Cheolwoo hefted his bag onto the workbench with a heavy thud. Cold mist billowed out as he opened it, revealing chunks of faintly blue-glowing ore.
"Snowstone."
Seojun's eyes narrowed. A rare mineral mined from frigid dungeons in northern Europe or Russia. It naturally held chill resistance, but processing it was a nightmare—heat it wrong, and it sublimated into vapor or crumbled, losing its properties.
"Want a large tower shield for the tank. Deadline: one week. Can you do it?"
One week was tight even accounting for snowstone's quirks. But Seojun didn't refuse. Sticking to easy jobs wouldn't make him grow.
"I can."
"It's a demanding ask, so if the result delivers, we'll double the advance."
"It'll exceed expectations."
The deal was sealed swiftly. The guild members took measurements, relayed specs, and left. Just before departing, Han Yura shot Seojun a wink.
"...?"
Seojun blinked in confusion but shrugged it off. Time to sketch designs and plan the process.
Whoosh—!
The forge fire roared at full blaze. Shirtless and drenched in sweat, Seojun stood before the anvil. A bluish-glowing snowstone chunk lay atop it, and clang! Ching! Clang! The hammer strikes rang without cease.
But his expression darkened.
'Not working.'
Snowstone was stubbornly uncooperative. Dunk it in the fire, and the surface vaporized in white smoke; pull it out to hammer, and it cooled too fast. The workable temperature window was razor-thin—one missed beat, and micro-cracks spiderwebbed through.
"Damn it."
Seojun halted, sighing heavily. Third failure already. Shattered fragments littered the corner.
Plenty of material left, but he felt his limits closing in.
'Temperature and speed—that's the issue.'
He needed to read the stone's grain: where heat penetrated, where cold pooled. Strike the boundary precisely to shape it. But eyes alone wouldn't cut it. Even heightened senses had limits.
'If I had more time...'
With patience and trial, it wasn't impossible. But the one-week deadline loomed.
'Just keep at it.'
Shaking his head, Seojun gripped the hammer again. No time for self-doubt. Back into the fire it went.
Five days gone already.
He'd shuttered the forge and hammered nonstop. Dozens of failures, but progress too.
"Got it made, but..."
Seojun eyed the result with dissatisfaction. A fish-scale armor shield, snowstone flakes layered and linked. Lined inside with cold-resistant alloy and ice sandalwood. Beyond mere cold protection—true anti-cold gear.
"Too specialized."
The flaw: useless against non-cold threats. Barely better than mass-produced factory junk.
{This won't cut it.}
Five days nonstop had piled on fatigue. Short naps and high-calorie meals barely sustained him. Mind blanked if he paused.
{You can make it better.}
Seojun didn't notice. Drawn by instinctual whispers like a dream. The world dulled to monochrome as he reached for the hammer.
'......?'
Something in his pocket crumbled. Fishing it out yielded black powder.
'That was horsehair...'
Seojun's fogged mind cleared—like surfacing from deep sleep to gulp fresh air.
"How far did I..."
Suddenly aware of the kaeyi transformation, he snapped alert. His resolve felt hollow. Self-loathing washed over his listless self.
"Gotta snap back..."
He scrambled to regain composure, desperate to escape kaeyi haze. But his eyes fell on the shield he'd made, and he froze.
"Total mess."
He'd known, but fresh eyes confirmed it: defects everywhere, materials poorly fused. His best effort, yet flawed.
"Maybe..."
He inspected the remaining snowstone. Grains invisible before now stood out; latent mana flows registered; structures sparked visions of designs.
Thus, foolish attachment lingered. Maintain kaeyi state, and he'd master snowstone perfectly.
'Can I?'
Even before full transformation, it'd encroached. Could he resist in full kaeyi mode?
"I have to."
From the moment he'd stepped into the kaeyi world, fate was sealed. If escape impossible, dive deeper. Turn crisis to opportunity.
"No more running."
Seojun embraced kaeyi state and forged on. Voices flooded his mind, muddling thoughts, but he faced them.
{Segment the fire...}
{Precise this time...}
{Maintain steady heat...}
Following the whispers, he immersed. Miraculously, the thirst eased. Stubborn snowstone yielded like dough, shaping into gear.
. . .
Time lost meaning. Final quenching done, finishing touches complete.
"Hoo... Hoo..."
Seojun panted raggedly, beholding his creation. A massive tower shield gleamed silver-white on the bench, blue frost patterns shimmering by angle. Snowstone sheets layered impossibly thin—beyond mortal smiths. Interspersed with shape-memory, shock-absorbing materials.
Resonance Level Increased
Monster Affinity: 6%
Using kaeyi byproducts had boosted affinity. No regrets—his choice, his decision.
"Ah..."
Still in kaeyi state, he sensed the affinity spike's impact. His prior brushes were mere 1%. Now, peering into abyssal resonance, he glimpsed endless tidal waves. Swallowed whole, he'd never return...
"Hee hee, you're a kaeyi."
Seojun jolted at the sudden voice, whirling around. A little girl stood there—behind the firmly shut door and shutter.
"First kaeyi blacksmith I've seen. Not Uncle Sintanjae!"