The Swordsmith's Judgment
The scale of Guya Manor was smaller than most people imagined. While its facilities sprawled across a fifth of Gyeong County and employed countless locals in various roles, the true heart of the manor—the swordsmiths themselves—numbered only seven in total. Adding apprentices and disciples who had yet to earn full recognition would more than double that figure, but every commission was judged by the swordsmiths alone. In other words, during the four seasonal commission periods, Guya Manor accepted precisely seven orders. Moreover, all commissions were handled by nomination. Clients submitted requests to individual swordsmiths, who then chose one from those addressed to them. This naturally sparked fierce competition among those seeking to place an order. It was nothing less than an entrance war—more cutthroat than securing train tickets during the holiday rush—among those who had already succeeded in the preliminary scramble.
"I'm thinking of submitting to Master Bokmo this time."
"You too? Hmm, then perhaps I should switch to Master Yumyeon. They're about equal in skill, but…"
"Bokmo? Yumyeon? Don't make me laugh. Their names lack any real foundation. I'll entrust mine to the renowned Master Cheoldan-u. Doesn't the name itself carry the dignity of a true swordsmith?"
"Fools, all of you. The position of Guya Manor's lord is not hereditary but based purely on merit. One must submit directly to the lord!"
While all of Gyeong County buzzed with the clamor and tension of visiting guests, Guya Manor itself had grown strangely quiet, the sound of hammering diminished. Did those inside know how fiercely the outsiders were scheming? Even if they did, they likely paid it little mind. After all, they too were busy preparing for the selection and had no time to spare for their hammers—save for one person.
"So, who has come this time?"
Hwa Yeok-pil, the lord of Guya Manor. At thirty he had risen to the position and, now in his sixties, remained a steadfast elder craftsman who had held the seat for half a lifetime. His disciple Ju Yang-hong, one of the six remaining swordsmiths, answered.
"Much the same as always. The nearby Hwang San-pa came as expected, and even the Sin Eung-bang under the Gu Ryong-hoe sent someone. Others include Ho Yang-mun, Geum Jeong-jang, Jam Seong-mun, Gwang Seong-mun, Hwan Sun-pa, Dan Mok-sega, Buk San-hoe, Bi Ma-gak, Hong Mae-gung, and Cheong Su-mun…"
Hwa Yeok-pil snapped at Ju Yang-hong, who recited the list of participating sects without so much as glancing at a note.
"When did I ever ask for such useless information? If you want to expand the business, do it after you become lord yourself."
"This is all for the sake of Guya Manor."
"Enough. Just sort through the ones submitted to me."
"First, Geum Jeong-jang promised ten nyang of gold and sent Cheong Ryeon-gang."
"Ho, Cheong Ryeon-gang? That's quite a precious metal. Still, offering money first reeks of a nouveau riche."
"Sin Eung-bang also submitted. They claim to have slain Cheol Gol-nok-ma and wish to entrust its bones."
"It's a rare specimen even among the azure beasts, but that sort of thing could be handled at Po Ha-go's level as well."
"Dan Mok-sega is here too. They brought Baek Jung-geum."
"Enough. Dan Mok-sega follows the imperial court. Tell them to petition the throne."
Hwa Yeok-pil clicked his tongue in displeasure. The Nine Great Sects had never shown interest in such matters, so that was understandable. Usually the Seven Great Families or the Seven Gates of the Black Lotus would bring something worthwhile, but this round offered nothing that stirred his heart.
"Did the Jegal family not come? I heard they were bringing something extraordinary."
"Indeed. It seems some incident occurred midway; their communications have been cut off."
"Tsk. It cannot be helped. There was simply no connection."
No connection. That single phrase summed up Guya Manor's policy in an instant. We do not interfere. If they cannot come, then there was simply no bond.
"I can see you're wondering how to phrase the rejections, but enough. Bring out the real candidates now."
Even though his true thoughts had been read, Ju Yang-hong replied calmly, as if he had expected this.
"There are about three."
"Three, is it."
A spark of anticipation lit Hwa Yeok-pil's eyes. The reason he entrusted this task to Ju Yang-hong despite the annoyance was because he recognized the disciple's discerning eye. The three commissions Ju Yang-hong had carefully selected would surely be enough to move his master's heart.
"First is Cheong Su-mun. They say they obtained Yong An-mok."
"Yong An-mok? That alone feels insufficient."
Yong An-mok was a camphor tree struck by lightning. The name came from the way the struck portion resembled a dragon's eye. Also called Yeon Su-mok, it was imbued with the energy to ward off evil and was highly prized by both Buddhist and Daoist sects. However, its size was usually modest, so it was typically used only for making staffs. That was the case for ordinary Yong An-mok.
"This one is no ordinary specimen. Its size is considerable. Most Yong An-mok never exceed four chi in thickness even at their largest, but this one is twice that. It has absorbed spiritual energy since it first sprouted and grew."
"Oho! That sounds promising."
A wooden sword could be an excellent blade as well. There were even Daoist masters among the great sects who carried nothing but wooden swords, claiming to uphold the principle of non-killing. Yet did that mean a wooden sword lacked killing power? Not at all. Hwa Yeok-pil could confidently assert that he could craft a wooden sword surpassing even steel blades using only wood.
"Very well. Where is the next one from?"
"Dok Go-sega."
"Dok Go-sega?"
This time Hwa Yeok-pil truly sounded surprised as he repeated the name.
"Dok Go-sega… It has been a long time since I last heard that name. What did they bring?"
"Gon O-cheol."
The rarest metal in the world was undoubtedly the iron that fell from the heavens—meteorite iron. Yet the hardest metal was something else entirely. It was Gon O-cheol, an extremely rare mineral found only in the deepest mines of the southern barbarians.
"Gon O-cheol… It has been years since I last heard that name. Just imagining it makes my heart race."
The moment Gon O-cheol was mentioned, Hwa Yeok-pil had already forgotten the spiritually nourished Yong An-mok brought by Cheong Su-mun. No matter how excellent wood might be for forging a sword, how could it compare to metal? Still, it was too soon to be amazed. Ju Yang-hong, eager to surprise his master, pulled out his final hidden card with a pounding heart.
"The last one is from a vagabond group called Changcheon-dae."
"There was such a vagabond group?"
Hwa Yeok-pil possessed an excellent memory. Once he heard something, he never forgot it. That was precisely why he disliked Ju Yang-hong reciting long lists—he saw no need to hear again what he already remembered. Yet the name Changcheon-dae was new to him. That meant the evaluation was split in two. Either they were insignificant, or they represented a new wave of the era.
"They are newly formed."
"Hmm. And?"
"The client is a man named Nam Woo, who claims to be the head blacksmith. The material is…"
Ju Yang-hong deliberately trailed off. Hwa Yeok-pil frowned.
"You brat, if you're going to speak, finish—!"
"It is the horn of Mangcheonhu."
"…What? Mangcheonhu?"
Hwa Yeok-pil's tone suggested he was asking whether it was truly the one he knew. Ju Yang-hong nodded firmly.
"Yes. It is the very Mangcheonhu that emerged from the Black Gate which overturned Beijing and ultimately led to the death of Jinyiwei Commander Gwak Dan."
"Haha. I thought the Paeng family had taken it because there was a Daoist involved, but it seems it had another owner."
"It is possible the Paeng family gifted it to someone. There is also the famous rumor that the Paeng family treated a certain guest with utmost hospitality at their main house in Tianjin."
"That could be."
Hwa Yeok-pil brushed the matter aside lightly, as if such details were unimportant. What mattered to him was that he now had the chance to work with the horn of Mangcheonhu.
"Still, Gon O-cheol is also an excellent material…"
Hwa Yeok-pil stroked his whitening beard, lost in thought. Gon O-cheol was a material he had handled only once in his entire life, and even then it had been before he became lord of Guya Manor. The Hwa Yeok-pil of that time and the Hwa Yeok-pil of now were worlds apart in skill. The prospect of surpassing his past self with the same material and confirming his growth was equally alluring.
"Summon both parties. I must see them with my own eyes before deciding."
The day after the winter commission period ended, two apprentices emerged from Guya Manor and headed in opposite directions.
§
"Only me?"
"Yes. The lord instructed that the client be brought separately."
Alone, then. Namgung Woo glanced around at the companions gathered nearby. Paeng Ha-ryeong, the Yang twins, and even the people from Cheong Su-mun were present. The most experienced among them, Yi Gong-seo, spoke up.
"It is likely to determine which commission to accept. I understand they first filter through the applications, then meet the applicants in person to make the final selection."
If writing the commission request was the first stage of document screening, then selecting the promising candidates for a second round of interviews seemed to be the process.
"I'll be back shortly."
"I'll accompany you at least as far as Guya Manor."
As Namgung Woo rose, Paeng Ha-ryeong stood as well.
"Ahem, I'm a step late. Chief, we'll come along too."
"Of course."
The Yang twins rose as well, and perhaps because of the atmosphere, Wi Ji-ryang also quietly lifted himself from his chair.
"Since it's come to this, let's all go together."
Thus the group set out for Guya Manor. As they walked side by side along the main road, Paeng Ha-ryeong spoke with a hint of wonder.
"I thought anything Gaga brought would be accepted without question. It seems there was something else quite remarkable."
"Indeed. I thought it was a sure win, but I mustn't let my guard down."
Since Gyeong County itself was not large, they reached Guya Manor in no time. Upon arriving at the entrance, the apprentice who had been guiding them turned to Namgung Woo's group and said,
"The rest of the party may stop here…"
"It is fine. The lord has ordered that all accompanying guests be allowed inside as well."
"Pardon?"
Ignoring the apprentice's confusion, Ju Yang-hong offered a crisp, brief salute and gestured toward the interior of Guya Manor with an open palm.
"From here, I shall guide you. Please follow me."
As they entered Guya Manor, the group's eyes darted about busily.
"Ah, mind your dignity, brother."
"You were staring too."
"Come now, enough bickering. Take a good look around. Entering the inner courtyard of Guya Manor is a rare experience. You won't get another chance like this."
While the Cheong Su-mun members bickered among themselves, Namgung Woo observed the figures waiting for him deeper inside.
'Two people.'
The auras of the two individuals in the inner courtyard were completely different. One felt similar to Ju Yang-hong, so that was likely the lord of Guya Manor. The other was probably a fellow client who had also been summoned, just like Namgung Woo himself. Yet unlike him, who had brought six companions, had the other side come alone? Holding that question in his mind, Namgung Woo crossed the threshold of the inner courtyard.
"Welcome."
It was the voice of the lord of Guya Manor. Namgung Woo returned the greeting with proper etiquette. Then his gaze shifted to the figure beside him.
She was a woman whose appearance was difficult to forget once seen. Her energy was utterly calm and refined, sharp as a single blade. Despite her slender frame, there was an unshakable solidity about her. She reminded him of a withered tree standing tall and proud in the midst of a blizzard, burning with fierce vitality even beneath heavy snow. Her presence was something anyone would admire. Though she appeared a couple of years younger than Paeng Ha-ryeong, her level was clearly superior.
'This woman…'
She was a Transcendent Realm expert. Perhaps sensing Namgung Woo's gaze with her delicate perception, the woman turned her head toward him as he approached. And when her face came into view, Namgung Woo nearly blurted out without thinking.
'Glasses? And…'
The glasses the woman wore reflected Namgung Woo's face upon their pitch-black lenses set in round frames.
'Sunglasses?'