The Grand Elder of Sichuan
The Grand Elder of the Sichuan Dang Family.
In other words, the previous family head.
To put it another way, it meant he had stepped down from the position of family head and half-withdrawn from the Jianghu.
In terms of the Zhongnan Sect, the elders would fall into this category.
And yet that Grand Elder had ordered that Cheonhwa be brought to him.
For Cheonhwa, it was nothing short of puzzling.
“What business does he have that he asked you to bring me?”
“It seems the Grand Elder has taken an interest in the wooden sword that Daoist Cheonhwa carries.”
“My wooden sword?”
Cheonhwa turned his gaze toward Okgyeong, which he wore on his back.
Previously, Dang Sowol had also shown interest in Cheonhwa’s Okgyeong.
And now the Grand Elder of the Sichuan Dang Family was showing interest in Okgyeong as well.
Was there something about Okgyeong that ordinary martial artists did not know?
What should I do?
Since he could not refuse the Grand Elder’s invitation, meeting him was already decided—but the problem was the timing.
Should he refuse Dang Sowol’s proposal and return to the banquet hall?
Or accept the proposal and go meet the Grand Elder right away?
Cheonhwa stood at a crossroads of choice and deliberated.
And the conclusion he reached after pondering:
“Very well. Let us go to see the Grand Elder.”
He would follow Dang Sowol immediately.
He judged that meeting the Grand Elder would be better than returning to the banquet hall and being surrounded by countless people.
Thus Cheonhwa followed Dang Sowol deep into the interior of the Sichuan Dang Family.
Before long, the ancient-style pavilions disappeared, and in their place a secluded space appeared.
At its end stood a building that brought a blacksmith’s forge to mind.
Through the Six Harmony Sensory Path, Cheonhwa captured the sounds coming from within the building.
A regular yet powerful sound.
It was a sound familiar even to Cheonhwa’s ears.
This is… the sound of striking iron?
The familiar sound he had heard whenever he visited the Hyeonhwang Blacksmith.
But there was one difference from the sound he knew.
The sound is clear.
He knew that even at the Hyeonhwang Blacksmith, the sound varied according to the blacksmith’s skill.
But he had never heard a sound this clear.
In other words, the one producing this sound was a master of greater skill than Gu Un-cheol, the owner of the Hyeonhwang Blacksmith.
Following Dang Sowol’s lead into the forge, a wave of intense heat washed over them.
At the center of that heat, an old man was striking iron.
His pure white beard and hair were tinged red by the flames.
And the body striking the iron was so robust that one could hardly believe it belonged to an old man.
The sight of him shining brilliantly in the darkness held a charm that made those who beheld it lose themselves.
Only after finishing one round of work did the old man notice the two of them.
“Hmm, is that not Wol-ah? I heard there was a banquet, so what are you doing here instead?”
The old man called Dang Sowol by her affectionate nickname and wore a puzzled expression.
To this, Dang Sowol smiled sweetly and said,
“It was boring, so I ran away using Grandfather as an excuse.”
“My excuse?”
“Yes. You told me to bring the Zhongnan Sect Taoist who possesses a mysterious wooden sword, didn’t you?”
“I did say that. Wait a moment—that means……”
The old man’s gaze shifted toward Cheonhwa, and the two locked eyes.
Those eyes held a will as firm as steel, yet at the same time they possessed a madness like that of a fire demon.
Just meeting his gaze was enough to feel overwhelmed.
Even without revealing any aura, his presence was felt so clearly.
Cheonhwa knew of beings who possessed such a presence.
A Peerless Expert.
Indeed, it was the martial prowess befitting a former family head of one of the pillars of the Five Great Noble Families.
Cheonhwa first offered a courteous greeting.
“I am Cheonhwa, a third-generation disciple of the Zhongnan Sect.”
“I am Dang Myeong-cheol, the Grand Elder. You’ve already heard the reason from my granddaughter, I presume?”
“Yes. I heard you wished to see my wooden sword.”
“Indeed. Unless one practices external arts or staff techniques, most martial artists use iron weapons. I grew interested when I heard of someone using a unique jade-colored wooden sword.”
Dang Myeong-cheol extended his hand forward.
Anyone could see it was a request to borrow the wooden sword.
Cheonhwa took Okgyeong from his back and handed it to Dang Myeong-cheol.
Then Dang Myeong-cheol began to examine the wooden sword carefully.
At the same time, continuous muttering began to flow from the old man’s mouth.
“This is no ordinary wood. Ordinary wood could never hold such iron-like coldness no matter how hard one tried. But I sense a certain incongruity. Was it not originally imbued with this coldness? Looking at this unique grain, it seems there was some kind of fortuitous encounter……”
Dang Myeong-cheol rattled off Okgyeong’s history as if he had seen it for himself.
It was a conjecture so close to the truth that even Cheonhwa, who was listening, was surprised.
Could a blacksmith who had reached such a realm discern that much just by examining a weapon?
Before long, having finished his inspection, Dang Myeong-cheol nodded and returned Okgyeong.
“A fine wooden sword. The material is excellent, of course, and the skill of the one who made it is considerable, but more than anything, one can feel the care of the one who uses it.”
As Dang Myeong-cheol said, Cheonhwa was the type to carefully maintain Okgyeong.
He had even learned the maintenance methods directly from Gu Cheol-mun, the vice-owner of the Hyeonhwang Blacksmith.
“It seems to have been damaged once due to somewhat rough handling in battle, but that is the destiny of weapons, so it cannot be helped.”
However, Dang Myeong-cheol added,
“Even taking that into account, you have managed it splendidly. Not like a treasured sword that one simply cherishes and dotes upon, but without hesitating to let it break when necessary. It has met a good master.”
“……”
Cheonhwa was momentarily at a loss for words.
He had never imagined he would receive such praise from the Grand Elder of the Sichuan Dang Family.
“The traces left on the hilt are also extremely honest. They are marks that can only be made by training uprightly without any flashy tricks. And there were no strange habits either.”
“You can tell even that just by examining the wooden sword?”
“I am a blacksmith, but I am also a martial artist. That is why I know well that nothing is as honest as the traces left on a weapon.”
Dang Myeong-cheol chuckled and plopped down into a nearby chair.
“Anyway, with that weapon, it might soon gain spirituality and become a Divine Weapon.”
“A Divine Weapon, you say?”
Cheonhwa looked down at Okgyeong.
Weapons imbued with spirituality displayed wondrous abilities different from martial arts, and such artifacts were called Divine Weapons.
However, he only knew of them as knowledge and had never seen one in person.
“What happens if it becomes a Divine Weapon?”
“I don’t know either.”
“Pardon? What do you mean……”
“The abilities a Divine Weapon possesses are determined by the spirituality dwelling within the weapon. Therefore, one cannot know until one confirms it directly.”
Still, through various cases, one could roughly infer what kind of abilities it might have.
“Divine Weapons handled by martial artists generally endure the winds and waves of time, do not break easily, and even if broken, recover after time passes in most cases.”
Occasionally there were cases with special abilities that strengthened the user, but such Divine Weapons mostly belonged to the heretical category like demonic swords.
“The former are often influenced by orthodox martial arts, while the latter are often influenced by unorthodox martial arts.”
“Why is there such a difference?”
“Perhaps it is a difference in perspective.”
In orthodox martial arts, martial arts are closer to a means of realizing each person’s Dao.
Whereas unorthodox martial arts often purely seek power.
“Of course, even this is merely a tendency, not definitive. That is why Divine Weapons are so profound.”
As Dang Myeong-cheol spoke of Divine Weapons, a pure and clear smile like a child’s spread across his face.
“Do you like Divine Weapons?”
“Of course I do. They are practically masterpieces that a blacksmith can create. Creating a Divine Weapon with one’s own hands can be called the dream of every blacksmith. I am no different.”
“Of course, I am the same.”
To Dang Myeong-cheol’s words, Dang Sowol, who had been quiet, also chimed in.
Saying that for a blacksmith, a Divine Weapon was the same as creating a divine martial art for a martial artist.
“Hearing you speak that way, creating a Divine Weapon must be difficult.”
“Even a Peerless Expert like myself cannot easily create a Divine Weapon.”
A Divine Weapon could not be made with human achievements alone such as innate talent or relentless effort.
If the fortune of the times did not favor one, even a great blacksmith could not create a Divine Weapon.
Conversely, there were cases where a blacksmith who had never learned martial arts created a Divine Weapon by imbuing it with extreme will.
Or, without a blacksmith even touching it, spirituality would sprout in a sect’s sacred treasure passed down through long years.
“That is why the creation of a Divine Weapon is also called the will of Heaven. Unless one is a legendary blacksmith like Ou Yezi, creating multiple Divine Weapons is close to impossible.”
Saying so, Dang Myeong-cheol gazed at the fire with conflicted eyes.
Eyes that, for all his strong desire for Divine Weapons, felt regret at a reality he could never reach no matter how far he stretched his hand.
And so they were the eyes of a craftsman who could not abandon his stubbornness and lingering attachment, wanting to cling on until the end.
At this, Cheonhwa asked without thinking,
“Then, will you give up?”
“……”
“You will not be able to give up. Because you have a dream, and something you desire.”
“Hah, what does a young pup know to go spouting off.”
Even as he muttered so, Dang Myeong-cheol could not deny it.
The long-held dream of creating a Divine Weapon.
It was no different even now that he had become a Peerless Expert and Grand Elder.
And there is nothing as wonderful as a person who strives for their dream.
Dang Myeong-cheol looked at Cheonhwa.
His appearance of not even blinking an eye before the presence of a Peerless Expert.
Above all, the traces of desperate training remaining on the wooden sword.
The traces of blood and sweat mixed in told how upright a person Cheonhwa was.
And Dang Myeong-cheol liked such stubborn yet upright people.
For he himself was such a person.
“I’ve prattled on too much. The problem with growing old is becoming emotional. I’ll resume my work soon, so be off now. If anyone asks why you were late, you may use my name.”
A clear dismissal.
Cheonhwa went outside together with Dang Sowol.
From within the building, the sound of work resuming could be heard.
On the way back, Dang Sowol said to Cheonhwa,
“I think it was a good idea to bring Daoist Cheonhwa.”
“All I did was show him the wooden sword.”
“That is what is important. Recently our grandfather has been rather despondent, but after seeing Daoist Cheonhwa’s wooden sword, it seems he has regained his spirits.”
Dang Sowol smiled sweetly and once again expressed her gratitude to Cheonhwa.
Cheonhwa accepted it with a bitter smile.
Thus the two returned to the banquet hall.
And as a result, they ended up being bombarded with questions by the many people who had been waiting—but that is a story for later.
In a room softly lit by a lamp, the pale-faced young physician Dang Baek-seon sat recording something.
Scattered around him were various materials recording all kinds of acupuncture points.
Reviewing them, he let out a sigh and rubbed the corners of his eyes with his fingers.
As expected, is it impossible to fix my constitution by ordinary methods?
The records laid out on the table were the traces of Dang Baek-seon’s efforts to correct a constitution akin to a Heavenly Punishment.
Because he had considerable talent, he had been able to establish himself as a physician at a young age.
But even he had not been able to come up with a method to overcome his constitution.
I can take in and refine energy through internal energy breathing, but I simply cannot condense it……
Dang Baek-seon’s constitution was literally one that could not form a dantian within the body.
Even for external energy arts, proper entry required the formation of a dantian.
No matter how outstanding his talent, without a dantian, Dang Baek-seon was nothing more than a half-baked martial artist.
And the only things that could resolve this were non-ordinary methods.
For example, demonic arts.
The day of action was said to be right before the finals, was it not?
Unlike the preliminaries where only the younger generation gathered, the main tournament of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering was a place attended by mid-level experts from the great sects of the Central Plains.
If something were to happen in such a place, what would become of it?
Naturally, there would be great damage.
A subtle light flashed in the eyes reflected by the lamp.
The mask of the kind physician he had been wearing until now was stripped away.
What remained in its place was hatred, rage, and envy toward the world.
I would love to work some schemes on the younger generation who come to the medical hall, but that would be excessive greed.
The Sichuan Dang Family was a great sect also called the progenitors of medicine and poison.
If he were to make a clumsy move, there was a risk of being discovered.
Betrayal is, after all, like a hidden dagger.
Now was the time to endure and wait until the appropriate moment arrived.