Chapter 256
Chapter 256
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Returning (2)
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“Is that true?”
“I don’t lie.”
“What’s the name of this grand sect?”
“Falling Dragon Gate.”
“A name that openly mocks the Twin Dragons.”
Falling Dragon Gate. Falling Dragon Gate.
Leaving Ya Hul-cheok to mull over the name, Chu Un-hwi turned his head.
“Dan-ya. Myo-gwang. Send invitations to every sect in Fujian Province.”
After today, everyone would know of Falling Dragon Gate’s existence.
“Understood!”
The two replied without missing a beat.
***
That night, every sect in Fujian Province was turned upside down.
The moment they awoke, they found a red letter placed by their bedside, on the bedframe.
“Who would do such a thing?”
Amazed at who could approach silently and leave the letter while they slept, they berated their subordinates.
“How could you let a night intruder slip by unnoticed?!”
“What if it had been an assassin?!”
“Bring me everyone on night watch last night!”
Those fuming and scolding their men had no choice but to retract their orders upon seeing the name on the invitation.
- Dark Venerable Ya Hul-cheok Baek
It was an invitation from the most talked-about figure in the city lately, known to all.
“Hmm. The Dark Venerable...”
Those feeling fear at the endlessly mysterious figure trembled for a moment before unfolding the invitation.
“Heh heh. The Dark Venerable sent me an invitation. He must recognize me as a major player in Fujian.”
Some were delighted and opened it right away, but...
The writing on every invitation was the same short phrase.
- Falling Dragon Gate Founding
The announcement of the sect’s inception was followed by...
- As of today, we announce our founding to the heavens, earth, spirits, and fellow martial artists. We invite you to our grand feast. Please grace us with your presence.
...another concise line. People couldn’t help but be puzzled.
No matter how closely they looked, there was no mention of where the sect was being founded or when the feast would be held.
“Hmm. What is this?”
They couldn’t send a reply without knowing where to send it, and even if they wanted to attend the feast and forge ties with the Dark Venerable, they had no idea where to go.
After staring blankly at the invitation for a while, they began to realize.
The secret of the invitation, which said nothing at all.
“Does this mean Falling Dragon Gate exists somewhere in Fujian Province?”
“The land where the sect stands is one of terror, and those who follow it weep in sorrow, toasting lonely guests with a drink. What place would be unfit?”
“Such wild and mysterious actions brook no resistance.”
Those whose heads spun sighed and tucked the invitation deep into their bosoms.
All were invited, yet no one truly was—to a founding ceremony.
They all said that those who attended the world’s most dazzling founding would witness Fujian Province’s master change hands.
***
Clang clang clang clang!
As they proceeded through the dreary ironsmith alley, a lively hammering sound reached their ears.
Without pause in their steps, they arrived to find a one-armed old man silently pounding iron.
“You’ve come.”
“Yes.”
“Finished with your business?”
“More or less.”
Leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed, a commotion erupted from one side.
“Grandpaiiiii... Eek!”
“It’s fine. Don’t mind her.”
Seeing the girl clinging to the boy’s back, he waved. She flushed and buried her face behind her brother.
“You’ve got fine handiwork, so I figured I’d teach you the ironsmith trade.”
“Didn’t you quit the ironsmith business?”
“Thanks to you, the craftsmen captured by Twin Dragon Sect were freed. Soon, this street will brim with life again.”
As he shoved a piece of white charcoal into the forge with a glance, the boy spoke.
“Th-thank you.”
“Th-thank you.”
Their small heads bowed, sparrow-like voices chirping out.
“Sure.”
As he flapped his hand, they scampered off. Watching their retreating backs, the old man began stoking the forge’s embers with an iron rod.
“......”
“......”
Watching him work, Chu Un-hwi spoke up.
“You’re the one who forged the Ten Swords, right?”
“How did you know?”
“A sword’s craftsmanship reveals the smith’s temperament.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Chuckling with shaking shoulders, the old man flipped the iron bar and replied.
“Right. The Ten Swords were my masterpiece.”
“Why’d you stop making swords? With skill like that, you’d be hailed as a master anywhere.”
Skilled ironsmiths were rare treasures. He could earn a fortune anywhere, so why live here doing odd jobs?
“It wasn’t that I stopped. I couldn’t anymore.”
“Something to do with Twin Dragon Sect?”
“There weren’t many who could handle deep sea dark iron back then. That’s why the Cruel Death Corps came to me.”
Silent, regret began to frost the old man’s voice.
“Eager for recognition from a big shot, I hammered nonstop for a thousand days straight and produced the Ten Swords. That was the start of my misfortune.”
Misfortune.
The old man continued.
“The Death Corps leader who saw the Ten Swords must’ve grown wary of me churning out famed blades. Maybe he thought only he should possess fine swords.”
“A crafty old bastard.”
“I should’ve caught on sooner. But when he asked me to sharpen his sword, I accepted again. That’s where I went wrong. What I made was the Twin Dragons.”
The very pair of twin swords the Cruel Death leader wielded until his death.
“Something felt off when he took the Twin Dragons, so I refused more work, but it was too late. He took my family hostage and demanded the White Sword.”
“So you made the White Sword too?”
“Yes. The problem came after. Sensing trouble, I half-assed the White Sword. Enraged, the leader killed my son and wife.”
“......”
“He said rare swords gain value the fewer there are, then chopped off my arm.”
Stopping his flip of the white charcoal, the old man stood, dusted his clothes, and gripped the hammer.
One hand only, but his grip was rock-solid.
“You came for a sword?”
“Yes. If it’s too much trouble, I won’t push.”
“It’s fine. Time to repay the grace of avenging my old grudge.”
The approaching old man took his hand, examining fingers and knuckles before asking.
“Any preferences?”
“Weight on the heavier side. Length four feet eight inches.”
“That’s a long sword.”
“Blade width four fingers combined.”
“Closer to a military broadsword than a standard one.”
As he kneaded his hand, gauging the sword’s form, Chu Un-hwi added the final condition.
“And finally, jet-black if possible.”
“...A jet-black sword?”
“Shiny like the Ten Swords isn’t my taste.”
For the first time, bewilderment crossed the one-armed old man’s face.
“Well now...”
Pondering long, he clicked his tongue.
“They say swords call to their fated swordsman.”
“...What do you mean?”
“Wait a moment.”
The one-armed old man rummaged in a corner and pulled out a shabby box.
Inside, with his wife and son’s spirit tablets, lay a dark, elongated lump of iron ore.
‘This is...’
This time, Chu Un-hwi was stunned.
‘Dark Soul.’
Though now more a rough unshaped lump than a sword, he felt an instant bond.
‘Dark Soul was Iron Chain Alliance Leader’s relic. Why is it here?’
Why here of all places?
As he opened his mouth to ask the old man its origin—
Hummm hummm hum.
The crude lump began vibrating on its own.
“Hah! Look at this. Not even shaped yet, and it recognizes its master.”
“Old man, how did you get this ore?”
“The day the Death Corps killed my wife and son, they tossed the bodies into the furnace—along with my severed arm. It reacted with the dark iron inside and became this.”
“...It has a story. I can’t take it.”
Even if his past-life sword, it was tied to family memories. He couldn’t accept it.
But the old man was firm.
“I kept this lump to sell for my lone surviving daughter. Pure deep sea dark iron essence isn’t easy to come by.”
The old man sighed deeply.
“The pity is, it’s a bit short for your sword.”
Indeed, smaller than the Dark Soul he remembered. Fine for a longsword, but a broadsword might strain it.
Then Chu Un-hwi recalled what he’d brought.
“What if we use this?”
“Th-the Twin Dragons?!”
The twin swords once held by the Cruel Death leader were kneaded like a child’s mud ball.
“How do you knead the Twin Dragons like mud?”
The old man bellowed with laughter.
“Ha ha ha ha! Melting the enemy’s sword and placing it in the benefactor’s hand—now that’s the ultimate revenge!”
Tears streamed from the old man’s wrinkled eyes for a long while.
When his weeping stopped, his gaze was that of a smith purged of all emotional dregs.
“More than enough.”
Shoving the dark iron and Twin Dragons lump methodically into the roaring forge, the one-armed old man said.
“It’s tough stuff. Shaping it alone will take ages.”
“I’ll wait.”
The old man wordlessly readjusted his grip on the hammer.
***
Clang clang clang clang.
The hammering continued without cease.
Even roughly shaping the lump took over a day, then two, without end.
“......”
The old man pounded the sword silently with his lone arm.
As if forging the last sword of his life, he poured his soul into ceaseless motion.
“Hoo.”
When he first set down the hammer, four days had passed.
A long time, but not wasted.
“Name the sword.”
His cherished sword from memory now lay in his hand.
“I already have a name.”
Gazing at his reflection in the now purely jet-black blade, Chu Un-hwi spoke.
“Dark Soul.”
“Dark spirit? Your fate won’t be an easy one.”
Smiling, the old man added.
“It’ll aid you in walking the shadows. Few will recognize its true worth, having devoured a vengeful spirit.”
“Thanks for the fine sword.”
“Take this too.”
The small dagger the old man offered gleamed luxurious and eerie, unlike Dark Soul.
“Made from the leftovers as a pair.”
“It has a name engraved.”
“Could you deliver it to my daughter? Better late than never.”
Tracing the blade, he felt the characters: Shining Deer.
Suddenly—
His hand halted.
“Take care.”
As the old man turned back to the furnace, Chu Un-hwi asked.
“Old man. What’s your name?”
Others called him Fake Old Man.
Fake Old Man.
A man of the Fake clan, meaning falsehood.
‘Not his real name.’
Asked his name, the old man replied without turning.
“Surname Yo, given name Myeong. Call me Yo Myeong.”
“And the Shining Deer Lu-ju...”
“Please cherish the deer that left the fold.”
Smiling brightly, the old man added.
“Don’t let the wind worry her too much.”
“Hah...”
Chu Un-hwi gave a hollow smile in return.