Chapter 65
Chapter 65
The Martial Alliance Forge (2)
"Ha, here we go again. Are you seriously not going to pull yourself together?"
"Huff, huff! S-sorry!"
Whoosh.
No—under the human-skin mask, Seo-un's sharp rebuke left Palmo utterly disoriented.
While elsewhere, senior blacksmiths were bullying their new assistants like cats toying with mice, here, the opposite was happening. The senior was the one being devoured by the assistant.
Clang!
Cl-clang!
Palmo, visibly tense, fumbled with his hammer, prompting Seo-un to snap at him again.
"You're ruining the rhythm of the forging! Are you planning to hand the client a piece of junk?"
"I'll fix it right away, sir!"
Before he knew it, Palmo—a seasoned blacksmith with fifteen years of experience—had regressed to the clumsy novice he once was.
It was as if he had fallen under some bizarre bewitching spell from a heretical sect. And the reason for this absurdity was simple.
Whoooosh.
An unknown energy radiated imperceptibly from Seo-un's entire body.
Palmo was unknowingly overwhelmed by the manifestation of the Heavenly Demon's Divine Energy.
With each passing day, the power of the Heavenly Demon's Divine Energy grew stronger, fueled by the Golden Arm Energy and the Reverse Heaven Energy. It wasn't just affecting Seo-un's physical body—it was seeping into every aspect of his being.
Especially now, the Heavenly Demon's Divine Energy amplified his very presence to an incomparable degree.
It wasn't as direct as pressuring an opponent with a difference in martial prowess, but the stronger his innate presence became, the more those around him would unconsciously buckle under its weight.
And to make matters worse, though Seo-un hadn't wanted it, he had once briefly overseen the Blood Cult's forges in his past life.
The Blood Cult's forges were larger than the combined forces of the White Night Iron Workshop and the Martial Alliance's forges, and the blacksmiths there—all former demonic cultivators—were absolute lunatics.
Yet Seo-un had perfectly controlled every single one of them. So, in a way, Palmo's current state of overwhelm was only natural.
'Hmm... Is this really the skill level of a senior blacksmith in the Martial Alliance?'
Seo-un was almost embarrassed by how pitifully low the standard was compared to his expectations.
But then again, whether it was a senior blacksmith of the Martial Alliance or anyone else, in Seo-un's eyes, they might as well be infants showing off their first tricks.
In his past life, he had been the sole Demon Smith and Divine Craftsman of his era.
Still, Seo-un wasn't just here to intimidate and bully his opponent.
A faint glimmer of interest flickered in his eyes as he worked the bellows.
"Yes, that's it. Surrender yourself to the flow."
Even while performing the simple task of pumping the bellows, Seo-un was guiding Palmo—drawing out the hidden talent and potential buried deep within him as a blacksmith.
And that effort finally bore fruit.
Clang!
Clang!
'Ah... Ahh!'
For the first time, Palmo experienced the ecstasy of becoming one with his craft.
In this moment, the blacksmith realized that everything he had done in his life up until now had been meaningless.
By surrendering his body and mind to Seo-un's guidance, he had attained a level of enlightenment that would have taken him decades to reach otherwise.
CLANG!
With a clear, resonant hammer strike, the practice longsword he had been forging began to emit an extraordinary glow.
Palmo had succeeded in creating something beyond his own talent—a masterpiece that would define his life's work.
'I... I made this?!'
Staring at his creation, Palmo could only blink in disbelief.
Watching him, Seo-un gave a small nod.
"Well, it's passable."
Gulp.
Palmo felt his heart lurch violently at Seo-un's words.
Pride and exhilaration surged within him at the acknowledgment.
But at the same time, the tension drained from his body, and his vision began to blur.
'Th-thank... you...'
That was what he wanted to say, but—
Palmo's lips twitched uselessly before—
Thud.
Crash.
He staggered and collapsed right where he stood.
The price of pushing beyond his limits had drained every last ounce of his mental energy.
The sudden noise drew the attention of every blacksmith in the forge.
"Huh? Wh-what?"
"P-Palmo?! What the hell?!"
"Deputy Forge Master! Deputy Forge Master! Palmo collapsed!"
"What?!"
The moment they saw Palmo sprawled on the ground, their eyes bulged, and they rushed over.
"What the—this guy never even caught a cold in the dead of winter! Why would he suddenly collapse?!"
"I-I don't know either!"
"Damn it, this is bad. We need to take him to the Divine Doctor's quarters! Someone grab his arms and legs!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Given Palmo's massive build, it took five blacksmiths to carry him away.
The forge's atmosphere instantly turned chaotic.
Senior blacksmiths and new assistants alike were left scrambling in confusion—
Click.
—while Seo-un quietly picked up the hammer Palmo had dropped.
By now, a vivid gleam shimmered in his eyes.
"Alright, let's get started."
Normally, a temporary assistant—let alone a non-official blacksmith—would never be allowed to wield a hammer in the Martial Alliance's main forge. Such a thing had never happened before and never should.
But Seo-un spun Palmo's hammer effortlessly in one hand, loosening up before work.
Then, as if it were his own, he adjusted the anvil and forge.
His movements were so natural that none of the other blacksmiths found it strange.
'These tools are far better than anything the Tang Family had... but still.'
As Seo-un glanced over the equipment's condition, his gaze shifted—
—to the largest forge at the far end of the workshop, standing empty at the head blacksmith's vacant station.
It was the Superheated Forge, a treasure possessed only by the White Night Iron Workshop and the Martial Alliance in the Central Plains.
The Superheated Forge was a special furnace enhanced by arcane techniques and concealment formations to maximize efficiency.
Seo-un's eyes gleamed sharply, like a predator eyeing its prey.
'Only in that forge can Divine Artifacts be made.'
That was it. Everything he was about to do was groundwork for using it.
Once prepared, Seo-un reached toward the pile of materials beside him.
A practice dao with a chipped blade came into his hand.
Like Palmo, he only had access to practice weapons as materials.
Some might scoff—what could possibly be demonstrated by refining mere training tools?
But Seo-un was pleased.
'These will be more than enough.'
To a true blacksmith, no weapon was insignificant.
Every blade carried fragments of its wielder's life.
Earlier, Palmo had infused a practice longsword with the power of detection, creating a low-grade treasure.
So then, what would Seo-un make?
'Even if it's not a Divine Artifact, a high-grade treasure should suffice to prove my worth.'
Treasures.
Though ranked below Divine Artifacts, they were still exceptional arms capable of sparking fierce battles the moment they appeared in the martial world.
The most recent high-grade treasure? The Lightning Justice Sword, forged by the White Cat Lord, Seo Jung-dal, after a year of desperate effort for the Namgung Family half a month ago.
And yet, Seo-un was boldly declaring that he would craft something of that caliber—not in months, but right now.
'Good. Let's begin.'
Gripping the hammer, Seo-un assumed his forging stance.
Whoooosh.
The energy dormant in his meridians awakened, slowly simmering to a boil.
His Golden Arm pupils rotated as the Golden Arm Energy surged violently.
Seo-un swung the hammer, wrapped in Golden Arm Energy, down onto the anvil.
Clang!
Clang!
A rhythmic, bell-like hammering echoed through the forge.
Unlike before, Seo-un didn't employ the Divine Artifact Creation technique.
For a treasure—not a Divine Artifact—it wasn't necessary.
First, he studied the clues left on the practice dao to reconstruct its original owner's life.
The unique grip marks, the deformations from how force had been distributed.
The chipped blade, the scars from training mishaps.
Only a blacksmith could decipher these traces to rebuild the wielder's story.
'A domineering and fierce saber technique—like a tiger endlessly slashing at its prey.'
Clang!
Cl-clang!
With each strike, the practice dao was reborn anew.
To an outsider, it might seem puzzling—aside from repairing the chips, its appearance remained unchanged.
But sometimes, the smallest differences change everything.
Just as a plain boulder transforms into a beautiful statue under a sculptor's hand.
'For a relentless, domineering saber technique, a treasure infused with the power of wind would best complement its wielder.'
The practice dao, too, was revealing its true hidden form.
Click.
Finally, Seo-un stopped hammering.
He slowly raised the dao overhead, inspecting it meticulously.
"Hmm."
Even though it was his own creation, he scrutinized it with extra care before—
Smirk.
—finally allowing a satisfied smile.
"Good. This should work perfectly as bait."
Whoooosh.
As Seo-un channeled his energy, the treasure in his hand gleamed with a fierce, icy aura.
Had anyone witnessed this properly, they would have been stunned.
Something unbelievable had just become reality.
What the world's greatest blacksmith had taken a year to accomplish—
Seo-un had done in—
Not a day, not half a day—
But a single moment's work.
Fortunately, none of the other blacksmiths or assistants noticed.
He had crafted it so that only the wielder gripping the hilt could sense its energy.
Seo-un then walked slowly, the completed dao in hand.
Using graceful footwork to evade attention, he arrived at—
'This should do.'
—none other than the vacant workstation of the head blacksmith.
The head blacksmith was the type to flip the entire forge upside down if anyone so much as touched his belongings, but—
Click.
Seo-un brazenly leaned the dao against the anvil.
With the bait set, he returned to his station.
Just as he was about to check when the head blacksmith would return—
"Hey, newbie!"
'Hm?'
Another senior blacksmith called out to him.
"Stop lazing around and deliver these repaired weapons to the martial artists."
"Me?"
"You want me to do it?"
"Hmm, not a bad idea."
"?!"
As the senior blacksmith gaped in disbelief—
"Sorry, but I was just about to check on my senior who collapsed earlier—!"
Seo-un abruptly cut himself off.
His eyes had landed on the stack of repaired practice weapons beside the senior.
'That's definitely—!'
Swish!
Moving like the wind, Seo-un snatched up a single sword.
"—but on second thought, I should listen to my seniors! I'll be right back!"
"Huh? W-wait!"
With a bow, Seo-un dashed out of the forge at blinding speed.
"Hey, you brat! How are you gonna deliver anything with just one?! Take all of them!"
The senior's shouts fell on deaf ears as Seo-un disappeared, the sword slung over his back.
On its hilt was an engraved plum blossom insignia.
The mark of the Sichuan Overlord.