Chapter 134
I Bok bit his lower lip as if suppressing a spreading smile and nodded.
"That's right. A sword. Someone like you could forge a famous blade worthy of the Tangshan Iron Family, couldn't you?"
The glint in I Bok's eyes as he looked at Bu Eun-seol shimmered with greed.
'He's saying that now that I've built some reputation through repairs, I should make something profitable.'
Having discerned the dark intent behind those words, Bu Eun-seol replied indifferently.
"These are swords entrusted to me in trust. Would it be right for them to pass through other master blacksmiths' hands?"
"Well, that's true too. But—"
"That's enough."
Cutting him off coldly, Bu Eun-seol picked up the tongs without hesitation and thrust a sword into the furnace.
I Bok, looking regretful, pressed again.
"Is there really no way?"
Bu Eun-seol remained silent despite I Bok's plea.
'Truthfully, even if I wanted to, I couldn't forge one.'
A faint smile touched his lips inwardly.
Like martial arts, metallurgy wasn't something one could master to a high realm in a short time.
That was why Bu Eun-seol had focused solely on learning sword repairs from Master Cheol.
Of course, he could forge simple farming tools to some extent, but crafting a sword—far more intricate and complex—was still beyond his ability.
"I see. Well, carry on then."
Receiving no answer, I Bok clicked his tongue and left the forge.
Watching his retreating back, Bu Eun-seol picked up his hammer as if nothing had happened.
—The Death Command Gate's Ten Demonic Heir was slain by a Mount Hua Sect's Great Righteous Expert.
A shocking rumor suddenly spread through the quiet murim.
The Ten Demonic Heirs, inheritors of the ultimate techniques from the Demonic Path Ten Gates—among them, the Death Command Gate's heir had engaged in a one-on-one duel with Mount Hua's Great Righteous Expert and been killed.
—It must be false!
At first, the martial world refused to believe it.
The Death Command Gate's ultimate technique, which distilled the essence of all spear arts scattered throughout murim, was considered the pinnacle of the Demonic Spear Techniques, often compared to the Fire Rain Sword and the Bloodflame Blade.
Yet, it wasn't just a regrettable defeat or an injury forcing retreat—he had been slain?
But when the Silver Sun Escort Agency revealed they had transported the Ten Demonic Heir's corpse back to the Death Command Gate on Mount Hua Sect's request, murim erupted.
Then, not long after, another rumor surfaced: the White Horse Monastery's Ten Demonic Heir had clashed with the Kongtong Sect's Great Righteous Expert, suffering fatal injuries before fleeing.
—Has it finally begun?
From the start, the Ten Demonic Heirs had been created to counter the Great Righteous Experts.
Ever since the Demon Hall announced the Ten Demonic Heirs Plan, this outcome had been anticipated.
Yet, the reason the martial world was stunned was singular.
—Was the gap between the Great Righteous Experts and the Ten Demonic Heirs this vast?
The Ten Demonic Heirs, said to uphold the Demonic Martial World, were being defeated one after another by the Great Righteous Experts without even putting up a fight?
As this truth spread, rumors even circulated that the Ten Demonic Heirs' skills were truly pitiful.
—The Demon Hall must have rushed things.
In reality, the Great Righteous Experts had all undergone seven years of grueling training under the Martial Alliance before emerging into murim.
For the Ten Demonic Heirs, who emerged about three years after the plan's announcement, facing them was nearly impossible.
Thus, among the gossip-loving storytellers, it became an open secret that the Ten Demonic Heirs Plan had already failed.
Before long, the crisp autumn wind began to blow.
Bu Eun-seol had already spent over two months at the Tangshan Iron Family.
During that time, he had tirelessly repaired swords sent from the Zhongnan Sect's Martial Hall.
Because of this, Bu Eun-seol was known in the Zhongnan Martial Hall as 'the ghostly master blacksmith who repairs swords.'
But since he never ventured outside and quietly worked only in the Tangshan Iron Family, his reputation remained confined to the Zhongnan Martial Hall.
Hardly anyone in Tangshan knew of him.
"Time has flown."
As the sun began to set, Bu Eun-seol slowly rose from the workbench.
He had spent one month learning metallurgy from Wang Geol and two and a half months working at the Tangshan Iron Family.
Now, only about half a month remained.
If he didn't fight a Great Righteous Expert within that time, he would be charged with the Crime of Disobedience against the Demonic Heavenly Emperor and attacked by the Demon Hall's masters.
'There's no other way.'
A pang of regret struck Bu Eun-seol.
So far, he had repaired every sword from the Zhongnan branch, yet he still couldn't find a single trace of the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique.
Of course, those who mastered the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique wouldn't even need to repair their swords—but he had hoped that by chance, he might get to handle at least one.
'Well, nothing to be done. Even this much has given me a decent grasp of Zhongnan's Sword Studies.'
Bu Eun-seol shook his head and picked up his hammer again.
Having grown accustomed to sword repairs, his work speed had increased three or four times compared to when he first started.
This meant he now had ample time to examine the sword marks in detail.
Then—his hand froze mid-motion as he tidied the workbench.
A faint sound of footsteps had reached his ears from afar.
Tap. Tap.
The footsteps were as faint as an ant crawling, yet their rhythm was flawlessly steady, without the slightest irregularity.
Click.
When the door finally opened, a man clad in robes as white as snowflakes stepped inside with deliberate grace.
His features were impeccably refined, and the energy radiating from his entire being was akin to that of an immortal.
This man, standing out like a crane among chickens, spoke toward Bu Eun-seol, who remained with his back turned, hammer in hand.
"Are you here?"
Bu Eun-seol turned his head to look at the man.
For an instant, surprise flickered in his eyes—not because of the man's striking appearance, but because of the way he stood.
'This man...'
A person's stance is never perfectly straight.
The ground is never perfectly level, and humans instinctively shift more weight onto the leg they favor.
Yet this man stood with both legs perfectly aligned, as if measured with a ruler, maintaining flawless balance without the slightest deviation.
This was undeniable proof that the white-robed man's sense of equilibrium was unimaginably precise.
'...An extraordinary master.'
Just by standing with both feet planted on the ground, he seemed to carry the weight of the heavens on his back.
If someone like this wielded a sword, the stability and solidity of his Sword Strokes would be beyond description.
"Who are you?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, the white-robed man smiled, revealing pearly teeth.
"Are you the master blacksmith who specializes in repairing the swords of the Zhongnan Sect's Tangshan Martial Academy disciples?"
"That's right."
The white-robed man studied Bu Eun-seol with an intrigued gaze, though the latter regarded him with indifference.
'A blacksmith who knows nothing of martial arts.'
The white-robed man was exuding a sharp, overwhelming energy—one that no martial artist could ignore.
But since Bu Eun-seol remained unfazed, he assumed the blacksmith had never trained in martial arts.
"Repair my sword."
"Repair requests should be directed to the attendant at the entrance of Tangshan Iron Family."
Bu Eun-seol added one more line.
"Incidentally, the attendants have likely all gone home by now. They'll reopen around the hour of the Dragon, between seven and nine in the morning tomorrow, so you can make your request then."
With that, he turned back to his workbench and resumed hammering.
The white-robed man stared blankly for a moment before curling his lips into a peculiar smile.
"If I formally entrust this request to you, it'll only bring you trouble."
But when Bu Eun-seol ignored him and kept hammering, the man let out a bitter chuckle.
"Once word spreads that this sword has been entrusted to you... from that day onward, you'll be repairing nothing but the swords of martial artists until your bones rot away."
"What do you mean by that?"
As Bu Eun-seol turned back, the white-robed man grinned brightly.
"I am Yeo Hwan-jin, one of the Great Righteous Experts from Zhongnan."
A faint gleam flashed in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
Yeo Hwan-jin—a Great Righteous Expert who had remained hidden like a divine dragon among clouds—had finally revealed himself.
'Why has he sought me out?'
Though inwardly tense, Bu Eun-seol maintained a perfectly natural expression as he spoke.
"A Great Righteous Expert... You mean one of those formidable martial artists from the Righteous Faction?"
"Do you still insist on a formal request?"
When Yeo Hwan-jin smiled, revealing his white teeth, it felt as if a refreshing breeze had swept through the room.
Bu Eun-seol stared at that smile for a moment before feigning a sigh and extending his hand.
"Hand me the sword."
"A wise decision."
As Yeo Hwan-jin unwrapped and presented his sword, Bu Eun-seol grasped it with both hands.
At last, he would see the traces of the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique—the highest of Zhongnan's Three Great Sword Techniques.
Shiiing—
When he drew the blade, a resonant Sword Cry, like the roar of a dragon, echoed through the air, revealing a sword so cold it exuded a chilling aura.
"A fine sword."
The white-robed man nodded at Bu Eun-seol's muttering.
"This is the Blue Water Sword, forged by the Chief Blacksmith of Blue Water Ironworks in Longquan, Zhejiang Province."
"But it's far too worn. It must be at least twenty years old."
"Correct. You know your blades well."
Deep emotion welled up in Yeo Hwan-jin's eyes as he gazed down at the sword.
"My master gifted it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It may not be a treasured sword, but to me, it's invaluable."
Now Bu Eun-seol understood why a master like Yeo Hwan-jin stubbornly clung to such an old, ordinary blade.
A sword bestowed by one's master.
He wanted to keep using it with care for as long as possible.
"Can you repair it?"
At Yeo Hwan-jin's question, Bu Eun-seol scrutinized the sword once more.
'Different.'
Unlike the countless blades he had seen from the Tangshan Martial Academy, this one bore no trace of those markings.
A flash flickered in Bu Eun-seol's eyes, but Yeo Hwan-jin, standing with his back turned, missed it entirely.
"It's possible."
"How long will it take?"
"Fifteen days."
"Too long. I'll wait ten."
Yeo Hwan-jin's expression was firm.
"If it takes any longer, I'll assume you're unqualified to handle this sword and take it back."
"Understood."
Bu Eun-seol carefully placed the longsword on the workbench, his face serious.
"Then return in ten days."
"I will."
Yeo Hwan-jin smiled without malice.
But just as he turned to leave—
Whoosh!
In a flash, his fingers shot toward Bu Eun-seol's neck like lightning, stopping just shy of the Heavenly Pillar acupoint at the base of his skull.
This was a dangerous pressure point—located at the second cervical vertebra's spinous process—where even the slightest misjudgment could leave a man half-paralyzed.
"..."
Yet Bu Eun-seol remained hunched over the workbench, seemingly oblivious.
Yeo Hwan-jin watched him for a moment before speaking again.
"Master Blacksmith."
Only then did Bu Eun-seol turn around, feigning surprise.
"You're still here?"
"May I see your hands?"
"My hands?"
As Bu Eun-seol frowned in confusion, Yeo Hwan-jin's expression turned solemn.
"Show them to me."
Meeting his unwavering gaze, Bu Eun-seol had no choice but to set down his hammer and extend both hands.
Yeo Hwan-jin stared intently at his right palm.
Blacksmiths who've worked the forge for years always develop calluses from gripping hammers.
And Bu Eun-seol's palm bore the same unmistakable marks.
"What's this about?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Yeo Hwan-jin fumbled awkwardly for his coin pouch.
"I wanted to pay you upfront."
He placed the pouch of silver taels into Bu Eun-seol's outstretched hands.
"This should suffice."
"..."
Bu Eun-seol glanced coldly at the pouch before turning away.
"Then I'll get to work."
"Very well. I leave it in your care."
With a faint smile, Yeo Hwan-jin finally left the forge.
Once he was gone, Bu Eun-seol opened the pouch.
Inside was roughly forty taels—enough for an ordinary family of four to live comfortably for two months. But for Bu Eun-seol, who had earned hundreds of thousands during his time in the Kill-Seeking Unit, it was pocket change.
"Had I not mastered the Art of Rooster Calls and Dog Thieves, I would've been exposed."
He rubbed the calluses on his palm.
Using the art's techniques, he had even fabricated these calluses to avoid suspicion as a blacksmith.
"No one could've known—these were made from real human flesh."
The calluses on his palm had been crafted from an actual blacksmith's skin.
No master, no matter how sharp their vision, could have detected the difference.
"Hm."
Recalling Yeo Hwan-jin's lightning-fast strike, Bu Eun-seol remembered Sim Wol's words:
—The Ten Demonic Heir can never defeat the Great Righteous Experts.
The sharp energy that had surged from behind still lingered in his mind. He shook his head.
"Two years. At the very least, I needed another full year."
The martial prowess of the Great Righteous Experts, honed over seven years of training in the Divine Arts and Supreme Techniques, far surpassed that of the Ten Demonic Heir.
And after facing Yeo Hwan-jin directly, Bu Eun-seol realized the gap between them was at least one—if not two—years.
"Subtracting the five days I'll spend examining the sword, I have a little over ten days left."
A blazing heat rose in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
In these ten days, he would have to leap over a year's worth of difference.