The Black Flame Dragon Reveals Himself (3)
Cheokgwanggeom. This sword, whose name meant slicing through all darkness with red light, was one of the fifteen divine artifacts of the Murim Alliance and the divine treasure of Sword Mad Hwa Jeong-san.
The red plum blossoms scattered by his Cheokgwanggeom were the flowers demonic cultists feared most, and the sword—having drunk the blood of more demons than any other among the fifteen divine artifacts—was also called the Blood Sword.
But perhaps it was too sharp. In the end, it was this very Cheokgwanggeom that drove Hwa Jeong-san mad.
The sword, infused with Jang Dowon's resentment and the blood qi of the Blood Sea Jade, seemed too much for even Hwa Jeong-san to bear.
Shring— The distinctive murky black hue of Geumgangmu-goe-cheol steel came into view.
But for some reason, this Cheokgwanggeom was far brighter in color than the Black Dragon Sword he'd wielded before. Closer to gray than true black, perhaps.
'Huh?'
Moreover, the ominous, otherworldly sword energy that the original Cheokgwanggeom had possessed was gone.
Even with the full blade drawn, only a faint killing intent emanated from it—no prickling menace that stabbed at the skin just by looking at it.
I turned to Jang Dowon.
"What're you staring at?"
Something... had changed.
This wasn't the bloodthirsty Cheokgwanggeom I remembered. Not the terrifying weapon that killed everything in its path, even turning on its own wielder in the end.
Why the change?
They say a weapon holds more of its creator's heart than its wielder's.
Unlike in my previous life, perhaps Jang Dowon's heart wasn't filled with hatred for the Demonic Cult this time?
"What's wrong? Not the sword you were expecting?"
"......"
The red line that had once crossed the blade of the original Cheokgwanggeom was gone.
Apart from the faint killing intent wafting out, it could pass for an ordinary sword.
As I puzzled over this bewildering turn of events, Jang Dowon's voice reached me.
"From that look in your eyes, you were hoping for something specific."
"......"
"......You really wanted a demonic weapon."
"You... knew?"
Jang Dowon lit his pipe. He took a long drag, then exhaled slowly. A strange tobacco scent swirled around me, brushed over the Cheokgwanggeom, and passed on.
"When you asked me to forge a weapon infused with the resentment of some unknown soul... I had my suspicions."
He let out a long, weary sigh and fixed his gaze on me.
"What did you want to kill so badly?"
The first divine artifact I'd thought of when I met Jang Dowon and plotted to steal the fifteen was this Cheokgwanggeom.
I met his eyes squarely.
"My enemies."
Without the Cheokgwanggeom, I could never kill them.
"......Even if it puts you in danger?"
If I didn't kill those bastards darker than the deepest shadows, everything precious to me would vanish.
"Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices to take down foes that strong. And if it's a sacrifice you choose yourself? That's a hell of a bargain."
"You're insane......"
The man before me clearly understood my intent, yet he hadn't forged the Cheokgwanggeom as it once was.
And in that moment, I realized something.
Even Jang Dowon in my previous life had known what he was creating.
'It wasn't some fluke.'
I'd been wrong. I'd assumed the same materials would yield the same result.
"......"
Jang Dowon fell silent. So did I, caught off guard by the unexpected outcome.
And when the pipe embers finally died...
"......You."
Jang Dowon spoke, his face a storm of complexity.
"Do you want to become a vengeful ghost?"
A vengeful ghost, huh.
"......If I have to."
"No flame that burns your own body can warm anyone else."
"At least it won't consume me in darkness."
Tsk. Jang Dowon clicked his tongue in disapproval, shook out the ash, and grabbed more tobacco.
"Go on, inspect the sword."
"......"
His abrupt words made me tilt my head.
His glare sharpened.
"Don't gawk at me with those shifty eyes—do as I say!"
I ducked my head at his bellow.
When had I ever looked shifty? I was just worried.
No more materials left, and the old Cheokgwanggeom might be gone forever.
I swallowed my concerns and slowly channeled inner energy into the blade.
"......?"
Strangely, the gray blade began to shimmer with a soft golden light.
And at the same moment, I felt something from the sword.
Rrrrrumble— Like a ferocious beast desperate to break free from a tiny cage.
As if another world lurked inside this small sword, an endless killing intent howled to be unleashed.
What the hell?
"That's all you're gonna do?"
Jang Dowon spoke as if the key to it all lay in my hand.
I thought it over.
From what he'd told me, he'd melted the Blood Sea Jade into this sword.
So where had its killing intent and resentment gone?
If it was still inside—not vanished somewhere—then what was the key to releasing it?
I recalled my memories.
The most desperate moment.
The Small Justice Squad dying to a demon's casual swing, that bastard standing before our sobs with a sneer.
Even as rage blazed in my chest, the helpless moment when I could do nothing.
My hair stood on end with sheer will.
The peaceful daily life shattered, and I was back in hell's corner.
Dead comrades' corpses, pools of their blood.
Their lifeless eyes whispered endlessly to me.
Kill! Die! Kill!! Die!! Kill!!! Die!!!
In the battlefield where resentment and killing intent bloomed without end, I slowly opened my eyes.
The golden light on the blade faded, and—
Shaaa— Just like the old Cheokgwanggeom, a vivid red line crossed the blade.
A killing intent fiercer than I'd intended surged forth.
Like a mad killer, a heavenly slayer whose only goal was murder.
Even amid the chaotic battlefield, the surroundings fell silent, my mind fixed on one target.
Body and limbs moved on the emotions of my heart.
In an instant, I closed in on the demon, thrusting at its filthy throat—
Then, a line from the Tae-eul Jin-gyeong flashed through my mind.
All things began from nothingness, so whispers of hatred and slaughter are futile.
In that instant, I snapped awake. The memory vanished, and the demon that should have been in my grasp was gone without a trace.
The piled corpses and blood streams were gone too—I was back in the forge.
My eyes flew to the Cheokgwanggeom.
It gleamed in its true, vivid form.
"......Back with us?"
I turned toward the voice. Jang Dowon stood there, helmet and shield in hand, trembling.
"When did you gear up like that?"
Had he anticipated I'd black out when the sword awakened?
He'd been watching me warily from the forge corner.
"If you're back, rein in that damn killing intent! I'll die before my time at this rate."
Oh no, can't have that. He still had fourteen divine artifacts to make.
I moved quickly.
"Sorry."
As I withdrew the killing intent, the aura that had flooded everywhere was sucked back into the sword like it was drawn by a magnet.
The vivid red line across the blade vanished.
A sight the Cheokgwanggeom from my previous life never had.
How was this possible?
"I thought you'd go mad, but your training held up well enough."
Jang Dowon wiped cold sweat and sighed deeply.
I asked immediately.
"How did you do it?"
This life's Cheokgwanggeom, forged by Jang Dowon.
In its normal state, it emitted a faint heroic energy, not killing intent.
But when its hidden form emerged, it unleashed a fiercer aura than the previous life's version.
It defied all logic.
Jang Dowon let out a grunt at my question.
"You really wanna know?"
"Some big secret?"
"I scoured the black market plenty to find those materials. If your father had pried too much, I might not have made it. The original had killing intent that was too strong."
He seemed reluctant to say more and changed the subject.
"The moment I got the materials, I knew what you intended. But I couldn't drag my benefactor into that danger."
"......Then why...?"
Worried, yet he'd made it anyway.
"Just... because I trusted you. The Jin Sowoon I saw."
His words carried a heavy weight.
"I don't know your story or your goals..."
Jang Dowon looked at me with warmer eyes than ever.
"Just achieve what you set out to with the sword I made. Don't burn yourself up."
His gaze mixed grandfatherly worry and pride, like handing a hammer to his youngest grandson in the forge.
Feeling that look, I sheathed the sword.
"What's its name?"
I was curious. This changed Cheokgwanggeom—had its name changed too?
"It's engraved on the blade."
Two characters etched into the gray blade: Silent Light.
Taken from a Buddhist term meaning the light of true wisdom.
Different meaning, same name as before—I couldn't help a smirk.
"You know I'm a Daoist disciple, right?"
"Of course. Still..."
He hesitated, then continued.
"He received Buddhist grace, so shouldn't the name reflect that?"
"......"
Buddhist grace? No way...
Suddenly, I was dying to know what he'd bought on the black market. Or rather, anxious.
"Elder, did you...?"
"Enough! Ignorance is bliss."
"......"
Jang Dowon ducked back into the forge, as if he had nothing more to say.
......What the hell did this old man do?
Another invitation arrived from the Eunha Merchant Group.
Or rather, call it a contract fulfillment disguised as an invite.
"The final decision... means you have to come."
The Eunha Merchant Group already knew Daecheon Merchant Group needed luxury goods, so they ended the invitation by insisting the principal come sign the contract.
In other words.
"They're threatening no deal if I don't show."
Cough, "Yeah."
First a request, then temptation, now a threat.
A masterfully cunning negotiation.
As I reread the invitation carefully, Father spoke worriedly.
"You really... plan to go?"
"I told you."
I looked up, met his eyes, and smiled.
"Each hall gets its own pond."
The group heading to Eunha Merchant Group was kept minimal: me and Wang Soso. Just the two of us.
They only wanted me anyway, so Wang Soso didn't need to come, but she'd insisted on tagging along.
Not that I minded. Thanks to her, we rode in the Wang family's top luxury carriage, complete with a small bedroom.
I slept the whole way, ate meals prepared by servants during breaks, and enjoyed a once-in-a-lifetime lavish trip.
"We've arrived."
Stepping out, the Eunha Merchant Group entrance loomed.
Crowds thronged the gate, lining up patiently.
"Those with invitations go that way, miss," the coachman pointed.
Over there, people like us alighted from carriages and flashed invites, bypassing the line.
"Fancy."
The entrants' clothes and jewelry screamed wealth.
'Just their outfits and accessories could cover a household's yearly expenses.'
Come to think of it, Wang Soso had changed into fancy clothes and jewelry right before we arrived during the last break... Made sense now.
"Why, Oppa?"
She tilted her head at my stare.
"......It suits you."
"Hehe! Worth the effort. Didn't wanna look cheap here."
"Cheap?"
Wang Soso, the pampered only daughter of Wang Geumsan, one of the Four Great Merchants. A talented merchant in her own right, heir to the Wang family.
And she worried about looking cheap?
She huffed and puffed out her chest.
"Eunha deals mostly with nobles and officials. Lots of Beijing aristocrats here in person. They look down on warriors and merchants alike."
Fair enough. Elitists always scorn outsiders, especially nobles and officials.
"Let's go in. The trip must've been tiring."
Camping was second nature to me, so it was a breeze, but Wang Soso looked weary. I followed without a word.
At the entrance, a guard held out his hand for the invitation.
"......!"
He glanced at it, eyes narrowing oddly.
Was it my imagination, or did he size me up?
"Welcome. Wang Soso, you may enter."
Wang Soso stepped forward at his guidance. As I followed—
The guard blocked me with a hand.
"Servants use the other door."
He jerked his head toward a side gate so low you'd have to duck.
"......"
For a second, his philtrum looked longer. Imagination?
"I'm Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate. Here by invitation from Eunha Merchant Group."
"Jin Sowoon? No such name."
He pretended to check the list, riffling carelessly before saying:
"Can't verify now. Go over there."
"......"
This fucking prick. He clearly saw my name while skimming.
Wanna punch him—imagination again?
Meanwhile, murmurs of irritation rose from those waiting behind me.
"What's the holdup? Move it!"
"Hey! Where do you think you're going, you lowly thing, on the path for betters?"
"Get out!"
Outbursts from the lavishly dressed crowd. Wang Soso, already inside, looked panicked.
"Jin oppa......"
"Didn't you hear? Get out."
I caught the guard's smirk.
Third time here.
'Crush my spirit from the start. That's the play?'
Not coincidence—the guards, warriors, and scholars nearby struggled to hide their grins.
Made sense. They'd sent three invites obsessively; they knew all about me.
Even skipping my mocking nickname.
The blocking guard's face grew fierce, sure I wouldn't budge.
Such "mistakes" happen often. Play along, correct later—smart move.
But.
"Get lost—gurk! Gurk!"
I'm not that patient.
Lifted by the nape, the guard dangled, eyes bulging in shock.
"Wh-what... How dare you... at Eunha Merchant Group......"
"What barbarism is this!"
"So the Black Flame Dragon title ties to the Black Path after all......"
I get it. Act proper for the righteous factions.
But do I have to dance to their tune?
"Oh, didn't know? I got more Black Path friends than White. Black Flame Dragon was coined by a Black Path heavyweight."
"Just like the rumors."
"R-release him now!"
They accepted it too easily, faces shifting to "wrong guy."
They'd done something, but hadn't expected this from me.
Smug moments ago, assuming I'd stay meek, now they fidgeted, fearing my next wild move.
Never realized why Black Path folks endure the stigma. They had plans too.
'This is convenient as hell?'
The guard in my grip flailed to escape.
With his pea-sized inner power? No chance.
Face purpling from asphyxia, just before the end, I hurled him onto a nearby desk setup.
Crash.
Inkstone and roster flew; the desk splintered.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Eunha warriors drew swords in unison.
First time the nickname felt good.