Chapter 38: Flames of the Furnace (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 38: Flames of the Furnace (3)
The reason he backed down wasn't simply because he feared the consequences of insubordination.
Hendrick was the kind of man who would stick to his guns to the bitter end if he believed he was right. But now, he realized the sheer magnitude of his mistake.
‘Hendrick, Hendrick. What on earth have you done?’
In that moment, memories of the past came flooding back.
Even Hendrick, now hailed as a Master Blacksmith, had once been a lowly apprentice. Back then, he hadn't possessed any grand sense of duty; he chose the trade merely to make a living. Desperate to become a full-fledged blacksmith as quickly as possible, he slaved away at menial chores day and night. Beatings were a common occurrence. Although the Dmitry of today had abolished such abusive practices, during Hendrick's apprenticeship, his body was never free of bruises.
One day, a mercenary came to the forge.
The young man, who had barely shed his boyish looks, offered a mere single silver coin and asked to buy a sword.
"I know full well this isn't enough to buy a decent sword," the mercenary had pleaded. "But this is my entire fortune. If you sell me a blade, I promise to repay you dozens of times over in the future. I have a family to support. For someone like me, who has nothing but a healthy body, a weapon is absolutely necessary to earn a living."
It was a common story.
People with no land to farm and no special talents threw themselves into mercenary work, relying solely on their physical strength. This boy was no different.
The master of the forge was not generous enough to hand over a sword to a beggar. He spat harsh curses at the mercenary and kicked him out. The boy's retreating figure was utterly pitiful. Seeing those slumped shoulders bearing the heavy burden of a family, Hendrick couldn't bring himself to just stand by and watch.
Behind his master's back, Hendrick followed the mercenary.
Without asking for anything in return, he secretly handed the boy the very first sword he had ever forged.
He had been happy.
Seeing the mercenary shed tears of gratitude, Hendrick thought that this might be the true joy of being a blacksmith. It was the first time he felt proud of his profession. Upon returning to the forge, Hendrick threw himself into his work, driven by a burning desire to craft even better swords.
But one month later, when Hendrick was confronted with that same mercenary's corpse, he felt as if his entire world had collapsed.
Behind the sobbing family, people whispered about how the young man had died.
"I heard he died while escorting a merchant group. Tsk, tsk, poor fellow. If only his sword hadn't snapped while fighting off the bandits, he would have made it back alive like the others. This is why you must use proper weapons."
"I know. Everyone else was perfectly fine. He was the only one who died."
Hendrick's heart plummeted.
His hands and feet trembled violently.
An act he had believed to be a kindness had driven that boy to his death.
A profound, crushing sense of guilt washed over him.
Only then did he understand why his master had told him it was still too early. But no matter how quickly regret came, it could not undo the grim reality before his eyes. Hendrick lived like a broken man for a long time after that. If not for the help of his close friend, Baron Romero, he would never have returned to the forge. Amidst his pain, Hendrick vowed never to repeat such a mistake. By overcoming his agonizing past, he eventually grew into a Master Blacksmith.
And yet, he had just made the exact same mistake.
Simply because he disliked Roman, and out of the complacent assumption that there was no way anyone would actually fight a war on the outskirts, Hendrick had momentarily forgotten his past and repeated the very sin he had regretted countless times.
‘How utterly pathetic.’
No excuses would work.
Whatever his reasons, just as Roman had pointed out, innocent people could have died because of the trash he handed over.
He swallowed his words.
He made no excuses.
If Roman chose to punish him, whether it was the price of insubordination or some other severe penalty, he was prepared to accept it willingly.
"I will pay the price for my actions."
"Master!"
At Hendrick's words, the other blacksmiths tried to dissuade him, their faces pale with panic.
They could not accept the current situation. Hendrick was their sky, their absolute authority. He couldn't be punished by someone like Roman Dmitry, who wasn't even Baron Romero.
But Roman held the upper hand.
Hendrick looked up at Roman's face, waiting for his punishment.
In that moment, their eyes met.
"Since you repent of your mistake to that extent, I will not press the matter further. Let us return to the main point. I know that Master Hendrick is a great blacksmith. Therefore, I request weapons and armor to equip thirty of my soldiers."
Once again, Roman's statement defied all expectations, causing Hendrick's pupils to quake violently.
He was an absurd fellow.
Just moments ago, he had acted as if he would devour Hendrick alive, yet the second he gained the upper hand, he chose not to hold him accountable.
Roman knew exactly how difficult it was for someone in Hendrick's position to admit a mistake in front of the subordinates who followed him.
‘Anyone can make a mistake. As long as it is a mistake that can be redeemed, one can earn another chance by showing genuine remorse.’
Shedding tears to uphold the law.
Swallowing one's sorrow to behead a cherished subordinate—that was a judgment reserved only for mistakes that were absolutely unforgivable.
This was different.
Hendrick was someone who shared an ill relationship with Roman, and he had merely taken petty revenge without realizing the severe consequences of his actions. Had he shown no remorse, it could have been deemed malicious, but at the very least, Hendrick knew right from wrong.
‘Rewards and punishments must be free of emotion.’
This was Baek Joong-hyuk's ironclad rule, and he had always acted in accordance with it.
Roman spoke.
"As I said earlier, I do not believe Master Hendrick intended to commit insubordination. It was likely due to your resentment toward me, and I fully understand that sentiment. So, let us bury the mistakes of both sides. All I want are swords and armor that will protect the lives of my soldiers."
It was the carrot and the stick.
After whipping him until his skin turned beet red, Roman deftly offered a carrot with his clever words.
At Roman's attitude, Hendrick felt a fresh wave of admiration.
‘Roman has truly changed.’
He had heard the rumors.
He was somewhat aware of the growing reputation that Roman had turned over a new leaf, especially after his recent recruitment of private soldiers.
But seeing it in person was different.
Hendrick, who had been trying to ignore the truth, only now saw Roman's true colors.
He was entirely different from before.
The Roman who once had weak, unfocused eyes had become a robust man, and the charisma emanating from his sharp gaze made Hendrick's heart tremble. It wasn't just a change in appearance. Roman was different from head to toe, to the point where he seemed like a completely different person.
How was such a thing even possible?
There were certainly traces of the Roman who used to be called the Fool of Dmitry, yet he could no longer be considered that same man.
A layer of prejudice was peeled away.
Hendrick admitted it.
Roman had changed, and today's incident was his own fault.
He, who had regretted his past countless times, could not tolerate the fact that he had handed over trash purely out of personal feelings.
Hendrick spoke.
"...I will say it once more. I am truly sorry for this. No matter what happens in the future, I will never repeat such an act. And as a gesture of apology, I will prepare the weapons and armor for your soldiers using the highest-quality steel that Dmitry prides itself on."
*
After the commotion settled, Roman left the forge, agreeing to receive the goods later.
On his way out, he heard about Hendrick's circumstances from another blacksmith.
"The sword Young Master Roman stole that day was Master Hendrick's masterpiece. It took him six months just to design it, and he practically lived in the forge for three months to finally complete it. It was only natural for him to be furious when it was sold to a street merchant for a pittance. What truly angered Master Hendrick wasn't the fact that Young Master Roman stole and sold it, but rather that the masterpiece he had poured his soul into was sold for dirt cheap without ever finding a proper master."
It made sense why Hendrick had been so angry, and why he had thrown trash at Roman despite knowing it went against his artisan pride.
It was the previous Roman who had crossed the line.
An unforgivable transgression.
Perhaps that was why, before Roman finally departed, Hendrick had said this to him:
"I have not completely forgiven you. I will grant your request because I was in the wrong today, but I still cannot tolerate the eldest son of the Dmitry family neglecting the forge. Keep this in mind: Dmitry's roots lie in the forge. If a day comes when you forge even a single, trashy sword with your own hands, perhaps then I might see you in a different light."
Hendrick was stubborn.
Though he had shed a layer of prejudice through this incident, he still did not recognize Roman as the successor of Dmitry.
However, there was one thing Hendrick had miscalculated.
‘The Roman Dmitry that Hendrick remembers must have been a fool who didn't care in the slightest about blacksmithing. A piece of trash who ignored the family's roots and only chased pleasure. I can fully understand why the people of Dmitry despised him. But...’
Baek Joong-hyuk was different.
"Shall we begin the preparations for departure?"
He set off.
There was still one more purpose left for this outing.
*
The place Roman arrived at was the workshop where he had undergone his closed-door training.
The workshop, which had been old and shabby back then, was now neatly organized and ready for work at a moment's notice. Immediately after deciding on war, Roman had asked Hans to restore this place so it could be used for its original purpose.
"It's been a while."
Stepping inside, he walked through the interior and inspected his surroundings.
It was a good place.
The high ceiling provided excellent ventilation, and the lighting appropriately distinguished the areas that needed to be bright from those that should remain dark. For a forge, ventilation was fundamentally essential. Since coal smoke and dust easily obstructed a smith's vision, airflow was always the top priority when evaluating a forge's suitability for work.
Beyond that, familiar objects came into view.
The furnace, waiting to burn hot.
The cold, heavy-looking anvil and the oak block supporting it.
And the hammers, tongs, and other tools.
These were things he had just seen in Hendrick's workspace, but to Roman, this moment felt special.
‘It brings back memories of the first day.’
The beginning.
The day he began his life as Roman.
Listening to the history of Dmitry in a shabby shack, Roman had thought that perhaps this was his destiny.
The Heavenly Demon, Baek Joong-hyuk.
Though the history of Murim simply described him as the Best Under Heaven, anyone with even a passing interest in him would know of another side to Baek Joong-hyuk. That was his appearance in the forge. Immediately after deciding to set out for war, Baek Joong-hyuk would always visit the forge to perform his own ritual.
A life of struggle.
To survive.
To triumph.
And, to rule.
Before the blazing flames, Baek Joong-hyuk manifested his soul.
Fwoosh!
Roar—
He lit the furnace.
From now on, it was time to forge a sword solely for himself, in preparation for the coming war.