The Blacksmith's Final Hammer
Ji Jung-chul was dreaming.
A ruined, forgotten place. A memory so horrific he had forced himself to forget it. Yet… even so….
The old house he could never forget, not until the day he died, stood before him.
The hand gripping the doorknob trembled violently.
— Creeeeak.
The moment the old hinges groaned, the sound of hurried footsteps came rushing toward him.
No way? Ji Jung-chul flinched in shock and instinctively bent down. A girl came flying into his arms with a bright laugh. It was his second daughter from her childhood—the one he would have protected with his life.
In that instant, Ji Jung-chul broke.
“Yeonji… Dad is so sorry.”
I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything for you when you and the rest of the family turned cold that day.
His second daughter simply shook her head, kissed his cheek, and said—
— It wasn’t your fault, Father.
“!!”
Ji Jung-chul whipped his head around. There stood his second daughter, now fully grown, waving goodbye with the rest of the family before they all vanished.
He called their names with everything he had, but they faded like smoke.
While he stood frozen in longing, unable to look away, a warm hand settled on his shoulder.
Startled, he turned to find his youngest son grinning mischievously.
The innocent boy who, even after he grew up, still called him “Daddy” and “Mommy” and acted spoiled. The child Ji Jung-chul had worried about the most, yet loved more than anyone.
— You’re the best, Dad.
“Dongsu… Dongsu-ya.”
Ji Jung-chul stroked the boy’s cheek as if trying to hold onto him. The child, unaware of his father’s pain, simply smiled even brighter. Then, just before fading, he pointed behind him.
When Ji Jung-chul turned, he saw his eldest son scratching his head with an awkward smile. The boy couldn’t meet his eyes and only smiled sadly. Ji Jung-chul knew exactly what that sorrow meant. It was the guilt of knowing every disaster had sprung from his own bloodline.
He ran over and pulled his son into a tight embrace.
“You did nothing wrong. It’s all my fault. Every sin began with me. So you carry none of it.”
— I missed you, Father.
“Dongha! Dongha-ya!!”
As his eldest son too began to scatter, and Ji Jung-chul fell to his knees after sending off all his children—
Someone caught him from behind.
His lifelong companion who had always stood behind him during the hardest times.
His wife was there. A woman in her twenties wearing a floral dress and a wide-brimmed hat. The sunflower-bright smile that had made him fall in love at first sight.
She smiled at him once more and said—
— You worked so hard.
“……”
Ji Jung-chul opened his eyes and looked around. The room was stark, without a single decoration. He glanced at the faded family photo by his pillow, then slowly sat up.
But then…?
“……??”
His eyes widened at the unfamiliar sensation.
It was a refreshing feeling he hadn’t experienced in decades.
Could it be…? After seeing his family in the dream, was this the aftereffect? Ji Jung-chul smiled in understanding and opened the door.
From the kitchen came the cheerful clatter of someone preparing a meal.
“Geum-do.”
“You’re awake, Master!”
“Sorry to bother you, but what time is it?”
“It’s seven in the morning.”
“I slept in. You didn’t wake me?”
“You looked like you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t have the heart to disturb you.”
“Thank you. I received a wonderful gift thanks to you.”
A steaming bowl of mung bean soup and several side dishes were set on the table. When Ji Jung-chul smiled at Ma Geum-do and said, “Let’s eat,” the meal began.
“Geum-do, it’s been about two years since we started living together as family, hasn’t it?”
“I haven’t counted exactly, but it’s probably around that.”
“Time really flies.”
“Hehe, I spend all day hammering iron, so I barely notice it passing.”
“That’s a good attitude. For those of us who live by the hammer, being faithful to each day is what matters most.”
The connection that had begun in Pohang.
The abused apprentice who once suffered under a worthless master he could barely remember had grown into a fine craftsman in his own right.
Ji Jung-chul looked at Ma Geum-do with fond pride.
“It must have been hard, taking care of this useless old man.”
“Why would you say such a thing? It hasn’t been hard at all. If anything, it’s been a blessing. How could someone like me possibly serve a master like you? Please never say that again.”
Because of Ji Jung-chul’s circumstances, Ma Geum-do had never been able to call him “Master” until now.
Yet every morning, the young man still prepared breakfast and cared for him with the devotion of a true disciple.
Ji Jung-chul found that kind heart incredibly beautiful.
Perhaps that was why, after reflecting on the dream he had that night, he made up his mind.
“Geum-do, I’m sorry to ask, but could you bring me my medicine?”
“The usual drawer, right? Just a moment.”
“While you’re up, could you also grab the notebook from the very bottom of that cabinet?”
“This one?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
It was a notebook crudely bound with wire.
Ji Jung-chul swallowed his medicine with the water Ma Geum-do brought, then slowly flipped through the pages.
“This is a journal containing every strike I’ve made in my lifetime. From now on, I want you to take care of it.”
“B-but… something this precious… to someone like me…?”
“Also, under my blanket you’ll find a bankbook with a yellow sunflower on it. I set aside your share from everything we worked on together. The password is 0425.”
“Master…”
“And finally, starting today, you are officially my disciple. Call me Master from now on.”
“!!”
Ji Jung-chul continued explaining where various tools and assets were kept.
At first Ma Geum-do had been stunned into silence, but now a strange anxiety crept over him.
It sounded like the old man was putting his affairs in order….
Whether he knew what his disciple was thinking or not, Ji Jung-chul finished what he wanted to say and smiled, the corners of his liver-spotted eyes crinkling deeply.
“Geum-do, do you have any work scheduled today?”
“In the morning I’m supposed to repair training equipment for the Mir Guild. In the afternoon I planned to make consumables like daggers, throwing stars, and needles that were ordered.”
“Could you cancel all of it?”
“Is there something you need me to do?”
“No, nothing for you to do. I just thought I might need the forge to myself for a while.”
“By yourself? I’ll help—”
“No…”
Ji Jung-chul looked at the sunflower painting in the living room and continued.
“This is something I need to take care of alone.”
It didn’t take Ma Geum-do long to understand the meaning behind those words.
“Master, I’ve kept my promise.”
Lee Shin, who had left Korea, stepped into the forge.
Along with a massive coffin.
Lee Shin has returned to the forge.
Lee Shin gazed at the blazing furnace roaring in the distance.
“Whoa~ It’s magnificent. I don’t know who built it, but it’s huge and beautiful.”
“You built it yourself and then never came back because you were too busy.”
“Oops. Here, let me take that, sir.”
“No need. You’re an honored guest.”
Ji Jung-chul set down the tray he was carrying. Lee Shin’s eyes widened when he saw what was on it.
A pack of old-fashioned cigarettes, a box of matches, and a small white porcelain bottle.
“These are the cigarettes I used to smoke back in the day. They don’t make them anymore. And this bottle contains the liquor my wife brewed while she was alive. I saved it for a day like today.”
“These are precious. Thank you.”
“Not at all. I’m the one who should be grateful that I get to offer them to you.”
If that child hadn’t come back, he would never have had the chance to open either.
Ji Jung-chul smiled faintly as he looked at the coffin. Lee Shin returned a bittersweet smile.
The two men sat down without another word and lit their cigarettes.
Along with the rough, bitter taste of the old tobacco, their conversation resumed.
“How far ahead can you see, Representative?”
“You really jump straight in, don’t you?”
“Heh. I can see quite far. Do you remember what I told you the first time we met?”
“A snake lives on your tongue, and a dragon orb rests in your mouth. Fate has crossed paths. I was shocked when you gave me that ‘revelation’ with no warning at all.”
“That’s right. That’s why it’s dangerous. I know better than anyone how dangerous it is to know the outcome.”
The miraculous trait Revelation possessed by the legendary blacksmith Ak-bong, Ji Jung-chul.
It was a trait that allowed him to glimpse ‘results.’ What kind of sword the iron he held would become. What kind of miracle his hammer strikes would create.
“I dreamed of the strongest sword in existence. And I really did encounter it. I greeted it, and it answered me. That flawless blade with neither form nor temper—I fell for it completely. I decided I would make it. The moment I made that vow, the result unfolded before my eyes.”
“The result where you succeeded?”
“Exactly. I became certain I could complete it.”
That was true.
When Ji Jung-chul challenged the perfect sword he had seen in his dream, he had already been certain of success.
Because he had seen the final value.
And that was both a blessing and a curse for Ji Jung-chul.
“The strongest sword on earth. In truth, such a thing makes no sense. New materials are discovered with each era. The same goes for a craftsman’s techniques.”
“Progress.”
“Exactly—progress. But if the strongest sword on earth appears? All that progress becomes meaningless. No matter how hard anyone tries, they can never surpass it. It is both a craftsman’s dream and his disaster.”
“A sword that should never have been born. Yet you saw it come into the world, Master.”
If he had never seen it, he could have given up or stopped.
But Ji Jung-chul had seen it. The strongest sword on earth, made of nothing but light, without form or temper.
He had become certain. I can definitely make that.
That was the moment Ji Jung-chul’s brakes broke.
“By the time I came to my senses, my children no longer smiled at me with affection. There were grandchildren I had never seen. And my wife… she had grown so old.”
A success stained with nothing but scars.
By then, Ji Jung-chul had already lost so much.
Yet even the success he had gained turned out to be a disaster.
“Only after the tragedy did I realize it. The obsession success brings, and that even that success could be a trap.”
In the end, Revelation had been both glory and ruin for Ji Jung-chul.
Ji Jung-chul filled Lee Shin’s cup and spoke the words he had been holding back.
“I don’t know what method you use to see results. But please, don’t become so fixated on the outcome that you lose sight of the present like this old fool.”
You are already magnificent. Many people stand by your side. Cherish them. Stay true to the present.
Lee Shin emptied the cup Ji Jung-chul had poured and replied.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Thank you for listening to the meddlesome advice of an old man.”
“Not at all. Someone I deeply respect once said the exact same thing.”
A phrase that had taken root in Lee Shin’s life.
— “Live an interesting life. That’s my only wish for you, little brother.”
Do whatever you want and live interestingly. Lee Shin gave a warm smile to the face that reminded him so much of that person.
Having said everything he needed to, Ji Jung-chul emptied his final cup and sharpened his gaze.
“You should leave now.”
“You’re really going to do it?”
“Of course.”
“It’ll be difficult alone.”
“Heh. I appreciate your concern, but this is something I must take responsibility for.”
Lee Shin smiled bitterly.
He knew exactly what Ji Jung-chul was about to do. Just like in the ending, the old blacksmith would burn his own life force to dismantle that sword.
If that was the case….
Lee Shin took out the item he had prepared.
It was the cash item “Potion” he had obtained from the random box reward after the recent finals. He handed it over.
“Take this before you begin.”
“What is it?”
“A medicine that will restore your prime strength for seventy-two hours—three days.”
“Such a precious elixir?!”
“It’s not that precious. However, the price is—”
“Enough.”
Ji Jung-chul shook his head.
“I won’t listen.”
He was a man with nothing left to lose. Whatever the cost, it didn’t matter. Ji Jung-chul carefully tucked the potion away like a treasure and stood up.
At the clear dismissal, Lee Shin turned to leave without any formal farewell.
Then a voice came from behind him.
“Thank you. I will never forget this kindness, even after death.”
Lee Shin didn’t turn around.
He simply raised a hand and waved coolly.
“Enjoy your time.”
·
·
·
THUD——!
The door closed. Left alone, Ji Jung-chul walked toward the coffin.
Inside lay his grandson’s body, neatly arranged.
“Thank you for coming back to me like this, my grandson.”
Though the rest of the family may not be able to see you because of the evil deeds I’ve piled up, don’t worry. No matter what kind of hell it is, I will be by your side.
Ji Jung-chul gently stroked his grandson’s pale cheek.
“On your final journey, I’ll show you something good.”
His gaze changed. He lifted the sword made of darkness. The blade sealed by wooden branches and iron chains.
“I can hear everything.”
Ji Jung-chul spoke to the demonic sword.
“You are me, and I am you. If you are sin, then I am a sinner as well. So….”
He drank the potion in one gulp.
His collapsed stats and traits surged wildly. The potential that had withered with age soared once more….
When he returned to the prime of his life—the time when people said he could touch the heavens—
“Let’s roll around in hell together.”
Ji Jung-chul’s hammer came crashing down.
CLANG——!!
Ma Geum-do paced restlessly in front of the closed door.
It had been three days. The door still hadn’t opened. All Ma Geum-do could do was stand guard, waiting until the sound of hammering stopped.
Then, from the distance, Lee Shin’s voice rang out.
“Still here today, Geum-do?”
“Representative!!”
At Lee Shin’s appearance, Ma Geum-do finally let out the anxiety that had risen all the way to his throat.
“It’s already been three days. He hasn’t eaten anything.”
“There should be food inside, and I gave him medicine, so three days should be fine.”
“…Is our master—my master—really okay? Nothing bad happened, right?”
“He’ll be fine. Here, eat this. You haven’t had breakfast, have you?”
Ma Geum-do looked at the sandwich that was offered, then set it aside and crouched in front of the door. Lee Shin didn’t press him further and simply sat down beside him.
The two remained silent, listening only to the sound of the hammer coming from beyond the door. Praying for it to end soon.
One hour. Two hours. Past lunch and into the evening—
KWAAAAAANG———!!
“!!”
“!!”
The vibration shook everything, and the hammering inside suddenly stopped.
No way?! No way??
“The door! Open the door!”
“Here’s the key.”
They inserted the thick key and turned it. The first thing that greeted them was a wave of scorching hot smoke.
Fanning the air, Ma Geum-do entered and finally spotted Ji Jung-chul sitting there.
“Master! Master!!”
Ji Jung-chul sat limply in his chair.
He didn’t move. No sign of life could be seen in his slumped body. Only a faint smile remained, proving that he had burned himself white.
“Maaaaster!!”
I finally got to call you Master!
If you leave like this, what am I supposed to do as your disciple?
The moment Ma Geum-do hugged Ji Jung-chul and burst into tears—
“It’s… dizzy… Stop shaking me… my disciple.”
“……Master!!”
“Could you lift my eyelids for me? They won’t move.”
From behind came Lee Shin’s voice.
“That’s why I told you to listen until the end. That medicine makes it impossible to move for seven days. It’s impressive you can even talk.”
A potion that restored one to their prime for three days but left them completely immobile for seven. Because of its critically severe side effects, it was a cash item that couldn’t be used in the league.
Only someone like Ji Jung-chul could manage to speak right now.
With his eyes barely open, he looked at Lee Shin and said,
“The favor… I won’t… have to repay… after death… it seems.”
Lee Shin followed Ji Jung-chul’s gaze and turned around.
There, he saw it.
A light he had never witnessed before.
◈ An impossible weapon has been born.
◈ Infinite form, infinite change, infinite strength.
◈ The legend created by a craftsman who touched the heavens, sacrificing everything and overcoming even tribulation, is not the strongest nor the heavens—it is himself.