Chapter 12: Divine Artifact Creation
Chapter 12
Divine Artifact Creation
Guyongyeon originally had a different name.
But driven solely by his obsession with forging divine swords, he changed both his surname and given name—adopting the Gu of Gu Yazi, the legendary Divine Craftsman of Yue, and the Yongyeon of the divine sword forged by him.
Guyongyeon was a madman consumed by blacksmithing.
"Tang Se-woon pays his respects to the Lord of the Iron Forge Hall."
"I-I also pay my respects to the Lord."
Se-woon bowed first, and Jang-il hurriedly followed suit, flustered.
Not all clan lords were equal within the Five Halls of the Tang Family.
Guyongyeon, who had devoted himself to the Tang Family through his connection with the previous patriarch, Tang Ui-tae, had now become the most revered elder of the clan.
Despite being over eighty years old, Guyongyeon was not just hale and hearty—he boasted a muscular physique that could rival most young men.
"What brings the Young Lord here?"
Guyongyeon spoke in his characteristic monotone, his expression unreadable.
Because of this, Se-woon couldn't discern his emotions.
'......Still not an easy opponent.'
A glint of tension flickered in Se-woon's eyes.
An absolute neutral.
That was how the clan currently viewed Guyongyeon.
As mentioned earlier, he was a senior elder whom even the current patriarch, Tang Mu-yeol, couldn't treat lightly.
Yet, Guyongyeon maintained a neutral stance in all clan affairs.
In other words, he belonged to neither the Patriarch's faction nor Chief Tang Ho-yeol's faction.
To be precise, indifference was the more fitting term.
After Tang Ui-tae's passing,
Guyongyeon immersed himself solely in training the blacksmiths of the Iron Forge Hall and his lifelong pursuit—forging a divine sword.
For a moment, Se-woon's gaze settled into calm stillness.
'But no one could have predicted it.'
No one expected that Guyongyeon, who had remained so strictly neutral, would join the fleeing ranks of the Manhaepyoguk during their betrayal.
A hidden ally of Tang Ho-yeol.
That was the identity Guyongyeon had in Se-woon's memories.
And Guyongyeon hadn't sided with Tang Ho-yeol because of the patriarch, Tang Mu-yeol.
It was because of Se-woon himself.
On the day Guyongyeon left the Tang Family,
he removed the mask he had worn for decades and, for the first time, revealed his true emotions to Se-woon.
—.......
Without a single word, Guyongyeon had simply stared at him with eyes brimming with such intense resentment before departing.
Even now, the memory was baffling.
'I still have no idea what mistake I made to deserve that.'
In his past life, due to his congenital disability, Se-woon had spent more time in the forge than the training grounds.
Yet, the number of conversations he'd had with Guyongyeon could be counted on one hand.
Though they hadn't grown close, he couldn't recall making any mistake grave enough to warrant such bitter hatred.
For Se-woon, it was nothing but regret.
Having Guyongyeon as an ally would have brought immense advantages.
'......But those eyes weren't something that could be undone.'
A grudge bordering on madness.
Looking back, the eyes Guyongyeon had fixed on him that day were eerily similar to his own reflection in the Blood Cult's mirror.
But regardless, Se-woon couldn't afford to reveal that he knew this secret now.
Hiding his true thoughts, Se-woon spoke.
"I apologize for disturbing you so late at night, but an idea suddenly came to me, and I wished to bring it to life."
"I was under the impression the patriarch forbade the Young Lord from leaving the estate for a week?"
"Even so, once he sees the finished product, I believe the patriarch will understand."
"......."
Guyongyeon fell silent.
Likely because Se-woon's excuse was blatantly improvised.
And Se-woon had indeed blurted it out without much thought.
'Well, he won't allow it.'
Any hope of using the forge had long since vanished from Se-woon's mind.
He had no grounds to counter the patriarch's order,
nor could he leverage his authority as Young Lord to pressure Guyongyeon like he had with Tang Ho-yeol.
Disappointing, but it seemed he'd have to turn back after all—
"Very well."
"......Pardon?"
"Do as you wish."
What? How did this happen?
Not just Se-woon—even Jang-il was dumbfounded.
Creak.
As if to prove his words weren't empty, Guyongyeon swung open the forge's doors wide once more.
And that wasn't all.
After scrutinizing Se-woon up and down, Guyongyeon spoke quietly.
"You seem to have come unprepared, sneaking out. Use my tools over there for now."
"—!!"
Se-woon and Jang-il's eyes widened like lanterns.
The Black Hand Craftsman, Guyongyeon, was offering his own tools?
Just as warriors treasured their weapons like their own lives, blacksmiths cherished their hammers above all else.
And Guyongyeon was infamous throughout Sichuan for his hypersensitivity in that regard.
There was a well-known tale of a young master from a prestigious family who had dared to touch his tools without permission—only to be struck down by that very hammer.
Yet here he was, casually offering them to Se-woon.
'Why the sudden favor?'
Baffled by the unexpected kindness, Se-woon quickly racked his brain.
Had he been moved by Se-woon's words during the meeting?
Had he been impressed by Se-woon's entanglement with the Martial Alliance Leader?
Neither seemed likely.
The man Se-woon remembered from his past life wasn't one to change so easily over a single incident.
Just as Se-woon was puzzling over it—
"Young Lord."
"Ah, yes. Speak, Lord."
"That......"
Guyongyeon hesitated, his lips parting and closing repeatedly.
His conflicted emotions were plain to see.
Se-woon waited silently.
"......I'll take the boy with me."
"Hic!"
Caught off guard by the sudden shift in focus, Jang-il hiccuped in shock.
Se-woon noticed Guyongyeon's hasty change of topic but pretended otherwise.
There was no need to ruin the situation with unnecessary curiosity.
He could investigate the reason for Guyongyeon's shift in attitude later—for now, he decided to accept the favor.
"Ah, yes. It's better for him to return with you now than to wait here alone until late."
"?!"
Jang-il looked as though the sky had fallen.
Shortly after the utterly betrayed Jang-il left with Guyongyeon, his eyes brimming with tears—
Se-woon stepped into the forge.
"Hmm."
The scorching heat and pungent metallic scent characteristic of a forge prickled his nose.
The turmoil in his heart from Guyongyeon's behavior settled into calm.
It felt like returning to a sanctuary after a long journey.
'I suppose it can't be helped.'
Though he had spent years as a Blood Cult slave, forced into blacksmithing, Se-woon still considered himself a craftsman at heart.
Passing by the rows of forges and anvils, he saw weapons displayed on one side.
Low-grade, mid-grade, high-grade.
They were categorized by quality.
The longer Se-woon looked, the deeper his frown grew.
"Hmm, is this really the best the Iron Forge Hall's blacksmiths can do?"
The situation was worse than he'd thought.
Even the high-grade weapons fell so far below his standards that they might as well be scrapped immediately.
Once, the Iron Forge Hall had been so prosperous that it was said all weapons used by sects south of the Yangtze River were forged by the Tang Family.
But now, it barely clung to relevance thanks to Guyongyeon's connections.
Bitter, but inevitable.
'In my past life, I managed to elevate their skills through sheer desperation—but now that process is gone. I'll have to start over from scratch.'
And that new beginning would be today.
"Is this the Lord's work?"
Arriving at Guyongyeon's station, Se-woon picked up a sword that seemed freshly forged.
After examining it closely, he delivered his verdict.
"Well, he certainly deserves the title of Master Craftsman."
Passable—but nothing more.
Skilled, perhaps, but to Se-woon, who had once been hailed as a Divine Craftsman, it felt like a child's plaything.
Crack.
Rolling his shoulders roughly, Se-woon stepped up to the anvil.
Whoosh.
He lifted Guyongyeon's hammer.
The warmth and weight of it, still hot from recent use.
"Now, shall we begin?"
Lowering his stance, Se-woon swung the hammer down onto the anvil.
Clang!
As the clear ring of metal echoed through the forge—
Whoosh—!
The natural energy swirling in the air surged into Se-woon's meridians.
The evenly distributed internal energy he had cultivated earlier activated, filling his body with vigor.
His Golden Arm Pupils manifested.
Though he was hammering an empty anvil with no material—
Whoosh—!
The change was immediate.
A living flame-like energy flowed through his meridians—
Into the hammer in his grip.
Into the bellows beneath his feet.
Into the blazing forge.
His very touch began imbuing everything with energy.
This phenomenon occurred when the Golden Arm Pupils reached the fifth stage.
And—
At the fifth stage, the Golden Arm Pupils granted a unique ability.
'Divine Artifact Creation—forging my main weapon.'
The very technique he had used in his past life to craft the Ten Demon Blades.
The reason Se-woon had come to the Iron Forge Hall so late was precisely to forge his own weapon.
He had managed to deal with I Hoseong using a training dagger, but the powerful enemies of the Blood Cult he would face in the future couldn't be challenged with such low-grade weapons.
There was a saying in the martial world: Once one reaches a certain level, the strength of a weapon becomes irrelevant.
'Pure nonsense.'
Those were the deluded words of those who had never witnessed true divine or demonic weapons.
There were weapons in this world that surpassed even the might of martial artists.
'Even without me, the Blood Cult has amassed countless demonic weapons—some even more terrifying than the Ten Demon Blades I forged.'
Though none matched his creations, there were demonic weapons with equally vile and dreadful powers.
And the only things capable of destroying them were divine artifacts of equal or greater caliber.
The Intangible Dagger sleeping in his dantian was one such weapon—
'But the Intangible Dagger must remain my trump card.'
Thus, the weapon he would forge now would serve as his main armament—
His primary weapon until he reclaimed the Intangible Dagger.
How fortunate.
The material he had agonized over acquiring without the Blood Cult's help had come to him on its own.
Whoosh.
Se-woon stopped hammering and picked up the material.
Divine Artifact Creation through the Golden Arm Pupils began by imbuing the craftsman's will.
—Tang Se-woon. Atone with your life!
Recalling the memory of the woman who had once handed him this demonic weapon—
Sizzle!
He tossed Meteorite Sword, gifted by the Martial Alliance Leader, into the blazing forge.