The Order to Slay the Dragon
"Ordered to kill a dragon... You do know this is hard to believe, right?"
I shrugged with a smirk at the bishop speaking with utmost seriousness.
"Considering the info Don Vito shared and my identity, don't I have to believe it? Besides, you're the only one who knows about the promise between you and the Don."
She pursed her lips tightly at my words. The father in her mind was no one who'd go blabbing such things around, so it made perfect sense. Doubting me now would be tantamount to calling Vito Calione a liar—the man she'd made a promise with.
"Fine... let's assume you're right. So how exactly do you plan to kill Fafnir? Even if you're Calione's hitman, just having Ascalon won't be enough."
Her point was valid. If a sword alone could do it, they wouldn't have left the beast alone this long.
But.
"I know that full well. That's why I plan to tweak Ascalon a bit."
"...Tweak it?"
"Lava Cave. I'm thinking of getting help from the folks there."
"──Rejected."
The bishop stated flatly.
"Don't talk nonsense. Convince them? Do you even know what kind of people they are?"
"I'm not an idiot—I wouldn't mention them if I didn't know. Isn't it the gathering spot of Korea's top blacksmiths?"
The blacksmiths based in the ever-flowing Lava Cave, turning Jeju's materials into gear. Their work fetched insane prices on the black market, so their skills were beyond doubt.
But the issue was.
"If that were all, everyone else would go begging for weapons too. But they're crazy. If something doesn't meet their standards, they seize it and melt it down! Raiders, scavengers, even villains steer clear—and for good reason!"
They weren't your average smiths. In Jeju, full of madmen, the ones even they avoided were the truly insane. Not fake rage, but real madness. Masters who wielded aura freely, hunting materials, hammering and melting tough casts. Combat weapons in human form.
That was the Lava Cave Clan.
"They leave us alone because I never stray from our diocese. If I stepped away, they'd strip the cathedral bells too. And you want to ask them for help?"
Her eyes turned icy.
"In the end, your plans are all unproven head-games. You might be a real powerhouse here to kill Fafnir... but the responsibility and duty on me can't be swayed by mere words."
"I see."
I figured words alone wouldn't cut it. The vow and oath binding her were far stronger than imagined.
"So, proof will do it, right?"
"What?"
"I'll be back by evening. If I prove it, trust me with Ascalon."
"What are you──"
"Oh, lend me a bike too. The one I took got totally smashed by someone, as you know."
Leaving her standing there, dazed as if she couldn't follow, I headed toward the cathedral. The door creaked open slightly.
Sister Maria peeked out with worried eyes.
"Did you finish talking with the bishop...?"
"Ah, Sister Maria."
Having witnessed the earlier scene, she looked deeply concerned.
"Glad your limbs are intact. You didn't get hit or anything, right?"
"No way."
Though my body nearly got crushed...
"The bishop's a wonderful person, but her eyes sometimes glaze over when it involves us sisters. Please don't hold it against her."
"No worries. We're done talking already."
Relieved by my reply, Sister Maria clasped her hands and beamed.
"Oh, really? That's great! But where are you headed? Seemed like somewhere else."
"Yeah, just a quick stop."
"A stop? Outside the cathedral is dangerous..."
A valid worry from one who knew Jeju's perils best. But I wasn't someone she needed to fret over.
So I smiled brightly.
"It's fine. The people there are real friendly."
Very much so.
──Boom!
──KABOOM!
──Thud!
Arriving at one of Jeju's famed Lava Caves, I parked the bike and eyed the entrance. A massive cavern bubbling with lethal lava. Thunder-like roars echoed from within.
I'd worried if they were out 'touring' for materials, but luck was on my side.
"Let's go."
Stepping inside, the booms grew nearer—a sign I was closing in. Then, at some point.
Clang──.
The noise stopped dead, like a lie. The cave fell silent, as if all prior sounds were illusions. Only the lava's bubbling gas on the walls remained.
I pressed on undeterred, entering a vast chamber.
There.
"Lost? Get lost. We're busy."
Dozens of burly men glared, fists clenched with hostility. Shirtless, their bodybuilder muscles bulged. Sweat dripped as aura cloaked their hands.
Confirming I'd come to the right place, I grinned.
"This the Cheongyacha Workshop?"
Silence fell again. A dark-bearded man spoke first.
"You know the name, so not lost. But what possessed you to come here?"
...Casual from the jump?
"Stranger at the workshop? Must be a customer."
I matched his tone, stepping right up. His gaze fixed below my face.
"Wait. That buttonwork... Maestro's?"
"What? Maestro?"
"He's wearing Maestro's work?"
My Dis Pater snagged their interest; they swarmed. Soon, twenty muscleheads surrounded me—most of them, it seemed.
A craftsman's eye couldn't ignore a finished masterpiece, goals aside.
Of course, to them...
"Wonder what we'd forge from that..."
"Boss, strip it—we could break barriers."
"Heh, killer item like that."
Slightly off-track, though.
Not a word from me, yet they eyed Dis Pater as raw material. True to rumors.
These were the Cheongyacha Workshop. Martial obsessives, despite appearances, seeking breakthroughs in gear after hitting personal walls.
"Hey. Strip everything, drop your stuff—we won't kill ya. Good deal, right?"
One grinned, cracking knuckles, already plotting theft.
"No clue what you're on about. I'm here to make an offer."
"Huh?"
And their other trait...
"Came on orders from Master Gwak Chunsik."
I pulled Gwak's letter from my cube, flashing it.
"Legitimate heir of Oresik, direct disciple of Master Gwak Chunsik: Eugene Han Calione. My offer's simple."
──Kneel, you punks. Know your place, juniors? You're begging for it.
In Oresik, hierarchy was ironclad—an unspoken oath binding even ex-disciples.
That's why I could chat casually. Betray me? Other disciples would pulverize them.
Hence, this stunt.
"Water's lukewarm."
"S-sorry! The heat makes it──"
"The water's LUKewarm!!"
"S-sorry! You maniacs! Grab the eternal snow lotus from stores!"
"B-but boss! That's for later armor──"
"Grand-Martial Uncle wants cool water!!"
Yes, this was peak hierarchy bliss. Gwak probably took it for granted—explains the boomer vibes.
Look how comfy.
"Hey, you—the 'boss.' Yoon Kwang-su, right?"
"Yes, call me Kwang-su, Martial Uncle."
"Right, Kwang-su. Just checking—think you could stew me here unnoticed? Nah?"
He jolted at my playful jab.
"N-no, what do you mean! I'd never dream of harming a Martial Uncle!"
"Nah, just worried. Told Master myself I was coming—got the address from him. If contact cuts, he'll fret... or whatever."
"...Pardon?"
"Hard to get?"
Simplify?
"Twice daily check-ins. Miss 'em, Master comes personally. So, Kwang-su, keep me safe?"
"O-of course!"
He forced a smile amid threats-jokes.
My request to Gwak? Simple: ink with his aura for the letter. They'd know it couldn't be faked.
"S-so, Martial Uncle. What commission?"
"Commission? Oh, yeah. A couple things."
"T-two? Speak away."
Bearded Kwang-su rubbed his hands eagerly.
I wanted little.
First.
"Make something with me."
"...Something?"
"Yeah. No one else around can. Need you and your apprentices."
Manpower from them.
"Making stuff's our job—no issue... What's the other?"
"Ah, that. More a favor... Yeah, easier one."
"Favor? Name it. Anything I can do."
"Cool."
No holding back then.
"Gimme your secret techniques."
"Pardon? What──"
"Hand 'em over."
Ah, new tech time.