Dangerous Metallurgy 1
“From now on, I’ll explain the metallurgy I’m about to teach you and how it differs from the current methods. Once all the explanations are done, you can decide whether you want to learn it or not.”
What does this mean? He’s not just going to teach me metallurgy outright—he’s making me decide whether to learn it or not. I can’t wrap my head around why he’s saying this about ancient metallurgy. Above all, I’m curious about what impact this difference will have on me.
No matter which metallurgy I learn, if it turns me into an NPC, it can’t be normal metallurgy. The real question is whether the difference in metallurgy will lead to differences in NPC abilities.
And that wasn’t the end of it. Listening to him actually sparked even greater curiosity about leatherworking, which I’d already learned, compared to the metallurgy I hadn’t yet studied.
Has leatherworking changed from the past too? If so, what’s the difference, and how does the leather armor method I learned differ from the old ways? Or if I learned the old methods now, what changes would there be?
As these questions swelled in my mind, Kim Seok-jung opened his mouth again, so I set my curiosity aside and focused on his words. For now, metallurgy came first.
“The first stage of metallurgy is smelting. This smelting is the foundation of metallurgy itself—the root of everything—and it’s here that the past and present show the greatest difference. That difference lies in the fuel used to melt the ore.”
I couldn’t understand from the start. Fuel? It was obvious that the modern, refined version would be superior to the past, so why highlight a difference there?
While I puzzled over it, Kim Seok-jung’s explanation continued.
“First, the current smelting method… Ore doesn’t melt simply from applying heat alone. It can only be melted by the flames produced from burning mana stones, called maghua. So nowadays, we take half-used mana stones, shatter them into fragments, grind them into fine pieces, and use those as fuel. Sprinkle mana stone grains and ignition potion, then use a blacksmith’s skill, and the maghua rises.”
“Now, let me explain the old way. In the past, we didn’t use mana stone fragments—we used the mana stones themselves. Of course, not used ones, but raw mana stones brimming with mana.”
“Th-that’s impossible! How could anyone do something so insane…? But is that even feasible?”
I couldn’t hide my shock, stammering in disbelief. It was like saying they lit campfires by detonating bombs.
“Of course it was possible, so they did it. Looking back now, it was utterly mad. Countless blacksmiths died trying to ignite the maghua. But back then, that was the standard.”
It was just the beginning, but I could already understand why ancient metallurgy had vanished. Risking your life every time you lit the forge? Of course it disappeared.
No, if only it killed the blacksmith alone, that would’ve been fortunate. It was an incredibly dangerous act that could take everyone around with you.
“But do you know that only this method produces true maghua? Today’s version isn’t real maghua. The ore doesn’t melt properly, leaving tons of impurities. Plus, the current method consumes mana so quickly you have to replenish the grains periodically, but the old maghua was different. Even with a C-rank mana stone, it would burn steadily for a full year.”
“But it’s too dangerous.”
“Yeah, it is. That’s why that incompetent coward Kailut developed the modern method.”
Kim Seok-jung spat the name Kailut with utter contempt in his eyes.
But the name wasn’t unfamiliar. Not common at all, yet it rang a bell somewhere.
Noticing my reaction, Kim Seok-jung spoke again, dropping a bombshell that nearly blew my mind.
“Kailut Brighten.”
“N-no way, that Kailut Brighten?”
“That’s right. The same guy who figured out how to convert mana stone energy into electrical energy. He stumbled on it while searching for a safe way to produce maghua. And he’s the one who made mana stone bombs too—claiming he was creating a massive natural forge in a volcano.”
The shocking revelation nearly shattered my sanity completely.
A blacksmith made this? And how does he even know this, even if he’s first-generation?
I’d assumed it was developed by a mana-sensitive mage hunter. Never dreamed a blacksmith did it.
And how did Kim Seok-jung know?
Did my thoughts show on my face? Kim Seok-jung spoke up.
“Do you think Kailut developed it alone? He’s a genius, sure, but a guy who couldn’t even light maghua wouldn’t pull off all those experiments. He gathered the best blacksmiths of the time and begged us for help—and I was one of them. No, I was the head of the experiments. I was the top back then, after all. Who’d know mana stones better than blacksmiths? While other hunters fought monsters, we experimented with every trick on mana stones. You think there’s any hunter who knows them better than us?”
How much more shocking can this get?
I knew Kim Seok-jung wasn’t ordinary, but I hadn’t expected him to be a figure who shaped history.
And how did Lee Musin even know him? That piqued my curiosity too.
As I floundered in successive shocks, he pressed on.
“Now, onto the next difference in smelting: quenching. More precisely, the cooling agent used in quenching.”
I had no clue what difference there could be in cooling agents, but by now I’d adapted, so I waited silently for him to continue.
“The current cooling agent is made by grinding mana stone grains into the finest powder possible, mixing with water, aging for 48 hours, then filtering out the water. But that water must be pure, obtained by flash-freezing steam from boiling water. Of course, Kailut found that method too. And in the past…”
I wondered what reckless method it’d be this time—and sure enough, it involved staking lives. No, far worse than lighting maghua.
“There’s an ice dungeon among the dungeons. We’d fetch ice from there, melt it with maghua, add mana stones to that water, and heat it just like for maghua. Without ignition potion, instead of maghua flames, it emits intense heat, turning the water back to steam, which we flash-freeze for the cooling agent.”
“Doesn’t melting ice from the glacier dungeon and working with that water eliminate explosion risks?”
“Eliminate? It’s exactly ten times more dangerous than lighting maghua. The mana in the glacier-melted water constantly stimulates the mana stone’s mana. So you can’t just heat recklessly—you have to soothe the mana inside the stone step by step.”
…He’s insane. Completely insane.
It was the thought that hit me automatically.
I understood why Kailut eradicated ancient metallurgy for the modern one. Without his innovations, blacksmith numbers would’ve dwindled to less than 1/100th.
“Quenching with this cooling agent turns quenching’s flaws into perfect strengths, eliminating the need for tempering. You know about quenching and tempering, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
When I learned leatherworking before, I had no prior knowledge, so I glossed over parts I didn’t fully grasp and had to look them up later. This time, I’d studied metallurgy basics in advance. I knew the process and terms.
Quenching hardens metal by rapidly cooling heated metal. But over-quenching makes it brittle, unable to withstand impacts, increasing fragility.
To compensate, tempering follows: slowly cooling heated metal in air to reduce brittleness and improve impact resistance.
“Quenching’s flaw is increased brittleness, as you know. But that cooling agent not only reduces brittleness but greatly enhances ductility, preventing armor or swords from breaking. More precisely, it infuses mana into the metal and coats the surface with a mana film, creating attraction between the two mana layers to prevent destruction.”
I got the cooling agent’s effects, but it still seemed utterly reckless. Kailut hadn’t just advanced humanity—he’d saved countless lives.
“Those are the biggest differences. The rest are minor; you’ll pick them up during actual work. So, what do you say? Will you learn metallurgy from me?”
Still dazed, Kim Seok-jung hit me with the final question.
Honestly, I was torn. With no idea how NPC abilities would manifest, was learning from him right?
If NPC powers didn’t activate during maghua ignition, I wouldn’t just be jumping into fire with an oil barrel—I’d be doused in oil first.
What should I do?
I agonized, but no easy answer came. Then, a question for him struck me.
“One thing I’m curious about. I acknowledge ancient metallurgy surpasses the modern one. But unlike its superiority, it carries incomparably greater risks. I hate to say it, but I can craft gear better than any existing blacksmith without learning the old ways. So why should I take the risk?”
It sounded absurd even to me—I was basically challenging him to convince me. Inappropriate for a student facing his master, but I sensed something off in his attitude.
To me, Kim Seok-jung seemed eager to teach me. I caught intense desire in his eyes midway. At first, I thought it was artisan pride. But when he posed the final question, it clicked.
He wants to teach me.
So I turned it back on him. If you want to teach me, give me a reason to learn.
I wasn’t entirely against it, but I lacked conviction. Would the NPC Hideout’s protection shield me from mana stone explosions, not just people? How would NPC abilities alter those processes?
Sure, I suspected NPC powers might handle the dangers or make them safe. But intuition alone wasn’t enough to risk it—I was scared.
So I asked for a reason strong enough to overcome that fear.
Kim Seok-jung answered.
“If you were an ordinary blacksmith, I wouldn’t have even mentioned it. Musin wouldn’t shut up praising you. He even made me swear an Oath of Covenant not to leak what happened while you were with that arrogant punk. The little shit struts like he’s big, so I wasn’t going to originally.”
A surge of deep gratitude hit me for Lee Musin again.
Just from the stories, I could tell how incredible Kim Seok-jung was. And for him to casually use Lee Musin’s name like that showed their close bond.
Even so, making him swear the Oath to protect me deepened my trust in Lee Musin. When the day came to reveal my full identity, I figured he’d hear it alongside the guild.
“But I was curious why he’d go to an Oath for you, so I swore it and heard your name. Did some digging after, and damn—you were on the verge of conquering an SS-rank dungeon. You’ll tackle SSS-rank next, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need my metallurgy even more. Kailut’s weak, pathetic version can’t conquer SSS-rank dungeons. Facing just four bosses in one would shatter swords. You can’t raid SSS with that frail metallurgy. If SSS conquest is your goal, learn mine. And through you, I’ll show Kailut what true metallurgy is.”
“H-how do you know that?”
I was startled. How did he know what Hespera told me? I’d heard he’d set down his hammer, yet he knew this secret. His true identity gnawed at me.
To be continued in the next chapter... The Hunter Who Awakened as an NPC