Repairing the Green Dragon Crescent Blade

“It's a masterpiece worth a tael of gold!”

Zhang Fei bellowed with laughter that shook the reception room, swinging his spear this way and that. Each time the blade sliced through the air, a sharp whoosh echoed through the cramped workshop. Yet amid the deafening clamor, Guan Yu didn't flinch. His eyes remained fixed solely on the tip of the steel spearhead in Zhang Fei's grip, unblinking.

A keen glint flickered in the half-lowered phoenix eyes of the martial god. He didn't need to wield the spear himself like Zhang Fei, brute-forcing it with raw power. Just from the arc it carved through the empty air and the friction of its passage, he could pierce straight to the weapon's true worth, down to its bones.

“Indeed... this is no ordinary steel.”

Guan Yu slowly stroked his long beard and spoke in a weighty tone.

“The impurities in the steel have burned away to their limit, compressing its density to the extreme. Even though it's pieced together from different chunks of metal, the grain at the seams flows seamlessly like water. The shaft might bend, but that blade won't snap in two. Yide, it's got the sturdy frame to withstand even your brutish strength in full.”

“Kahaha! See, Brother? I told you!”

Zhang Fei thumped his chest proudly, grinning ear to ear.

“Those backwater smiths in the sticks only know how to polish the outside pretty—they've got no clue how to embed a core tough enough for my power! Brother, why not hand over that crescent blade of yours to this young craftsman while we're at it? Combine your martial prowess with his skill at handling iron, and there won't be a single enemy general's neck in the realm you can't lop off!”

At Zhang Fei's prodding, Guan Yu's gaze shifted to his back. Wrapped tightly in its bundle, yet exuding an overwhelming, chilling aura—that was the legendary famed sword, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade, steeped in the blood of countless foes, having absorbed a murderous intent all its own.

Guan Yu caressed the hefty hilt through the cloth, then turned his head toward me.

“Young craftsman. Even without my brother's fussing, I've confirmed with my own eyes that your skill rivals the imperial smiths of the capital, Luoyang. Let me ask: if you were to reforge the blade of this crescent blade on my back using your fine furnace and hammer, adjusting its balance and weight—how much would the labor cost?”

Guan Yu's proposal hit me like a thunderbolt. My heart pounded wildly in my chest.

Green Dragon Crescent Blade. The weapon that defined the unparalleled Guan Yu, now offered to me. The moment it touched my anvil in the subspace, the experience points I'd gain were beyond imagination. A good appraisal might even boost my stats. I swallowed hard and answered without hesitation.

“To refine a masterpiece brimming with such ferocious energy will take time and utmost care. The repair fee is the same as for Lord Zhang Fei's spear: one tael of gold.”

“One tael of gold.”

My bold reply made Guan Yu's eyebrow twitch faintly. He fiddled with his long beard, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠falling into heavy silence. Guan Yu was a hero whose pride pierced the heavens, but his current reality was harsh. After rising in arms with Liu Bei, the three brothers wandered as volunteers and guests, scraping by without a proper fief in these early days of the Three Kingdoms. That one tael—money needed to feed and clothe their soldiers—was no trifle to spend lightly on a weapon still whole and slicing enemy necks.

“Hm. Your skill is surely worth that and more. However...”

Guan Yu shook his head with a bitter but resolute tone.

“My crescent blade still drinks enemy blood without flaw, its edge unchipped. With so many places our three brothers' great cause demands that gold, I can't justify spending it now. Regrettably, my weapon must wait for another day.”

Guan Yu's polite refusal. In that instant, Zhang Fei—who'd been gleefully swinging his spear—leaped forward in protest.

“Aigoo! Brother Guan Yu! What warrior skimps on his life-saving weapon before battle? That heavy Green Dragon of yours will come out of his furnace light as a feather, spraying blood everywhere! Don't worry about the coin—I'll cover the fee with the gold we looted from those bandit dens. Hand it over right now!”

Zhang Fei lunged to unwrap the bundle, but Guan Yu smacked his rough hand away and roared like thunder.

“Stand down, Yide! A warrior's weapon must bear its weight through his own means and blood! Even as sworn brothers, I won't borrow your money to indulge vanity on a weapon still sound. That's no way for a bearded man to act!”

Under Guan Yu's rigid, stern aura, even the mighty Zhang Fei went mute as a clam, huffing indignantly through his nose. The Green Dragon Crescent Blade was slipping from my grasp. A normal merchant might lick his chops and back off, but I was different.

A few coppers or a tael of gold isn't the issue. Dissecting and hammering that blade is pure nourishment for my survival. And besides... My eyes met Guan Yu's date-red face. Guan Yu Yun-chang, the incarnation of loyalty who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠repays favors and grudges even if the heavens split. Like with the guard captain Gang Bi, if I could bind this man with a debt of kindness, it'd be a lifeline worth not a hundred—not even a thousand—taels of gold.

“Please wait a moment, Lord Guan Yu.”

As Guan Yu turned to leave, my calm, firm voice halted him. He looked back at me.

“My workshop's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠repair fee is indeed one tael of gold. But... I don't value hunks of metal solely by coin like some street thug.”

I stepped slowly to the oak table.

“While repairing Lord Zhang Fei's spear, I read the immense murderous intent and scars of battle etched into its steel frame. The same goes for the crescent blade on your back, Lord Guan Yu. For a craftsman like me, the chance to dismantle and reforge a weapon near-spiritual in nature is a profound lesson and honor money can't buy.”

Locking eyes with Guan Yu, I cast my most lethal, sweetest trap.

“I won't take payment. Let me refine Lord Guan Yu's crescent blade into the finest sword under heaven.”

“What?”

“Fr-free? Hey, young friend! You just demanded a solid tael of gold, and now what's this scheme?!”

Guan Yu's eyebrow twitched again, and Zhang Fei yelped in confusion. I continued with a faint smile.

“But on one condition.”

“Condition?”

“In the future, should I face unavoidable peril and seek aid, remember the passion and steel I pour into this crescent blade today. That's all I ask.”

A calculated concession. It spared the broke hero's pride while planting a heavy sense of debt in their hearts—perfect rhetoric.

Guan Yu stared piercingly at me in silence. In his half-lidded phoenix eyes, I could see him reassessing me—not as mere smith, but with weight. My absolute arrogance in my craft, the magnanimity to toss aside a fortune like chaff, the cunning to spot value and forge bonds. After a long pause, he slowly nodded.

“Refusing a craftsman's pride and goodwill with money would be no way for a true man either. That cool gaze and bold spirit of yours... it suits me well.”

Guan Yu reached back.

With a soft rustle, the bundle fell away. Bathed in the workshop's sunlight, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade fully revealed its majestic, terrifying form.

A long, thick steel hilt joined by an exquisite yet vicious seam—like a azure dragon gaping to grip the blade. And the massive half-moon blade, edged sharp as moonlight, bluish and lethal. Just gazing at it crushed the air with skin-slicing menace.

“This weapon is my life itself.”

Guan Yu cradled the crescent blade in both hands and offered it to me reverently.

“I entrust it—and all I have—to your fine furnace and hammer.”

“I won't disappoint you. Come morning, I'll have it here on this table.”

Steadying my trembling hands, I took its full weight. The instant it touched my palms, an overwhelming density and iron aura from its depths jolted my nerves.

“Kahaha! Brother! I can hardly wait till morning! Hey, young craftsman! When we come back, I'll bring a jug of my finest brew—look forward to it!”

Zhang Fei clapped my shoulder with a hearty laugh. Guan Yu gave a deep bow and left with him. The door shut, silence settling once more.

I gently set the Green Dragon Crescent Blade on the oak table and pocketed the tael of gold beside it.

“A legendary weapon right from the start.”

A thick smile spread across my lips. But my day wasn't over. About an hour after they left, a wealthy Xuzhou merchant arrived with guards, drawn by rumors.

“I hear you even revive dead weapons here. Can you fix my self-defense sword?”

The merchant puffed up, placing a gaudy decorative sword on the table—scabbard and hilt encrusted with pricey gems. I drew it and lightly flicked the blade with a finger. Ting—a thin, dull ring.

“The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠core's hollow, just plated for shine. Cheap junk. It'll shatter on the first bone it hits.”

“Wh-what?! Do you know how much this sword cost?!”

The merchant bristled, but I silently went to the anvil, picked up my D+ grade iron hammer, laid the sword flat, and tapped the flat of the blade lightly.

Klang—crash! Incredibly, the blade shattered like glass.

“Gasp...!”

The merchant and his guards paled.

“Flashy outside, rotten dung-iron inside. Pay one tael of gold, and I'll strip the rot, embed a new steel core flexible as a beast's spine.”

Overwhelming showmanship and confident salesmanship. The life-loving rich man forked over the gold on the spot.

I lit the furnace and pumped the bellows. My E-grade blacksmith senses shone even in reality. I melted the sword down, mixed in high-carbon steel from the storeroom, forged a new frame. Gauging heat by eye, timing the quench on instinct, I hammered relentlessly.

Sweat pouring, the empty decorative blade transformed into a perfect combat dagger—flexible with chilling cutting power.

The merchant, awed by its razor edge, bowed repeatedly and left.

Sunset fell, thick darkness cloaking Xuzhou's bustle. I dropped the heavy leather curtain, bolted the front door. On the oak table, my two taels of gold gleamed ethereally in the candle's flicker.

“Two taels of gold.”

Fingering the coins, I murmured low. In a regular market forge, hammering scythes, hoes, and chipped junk all day might net a few dozen coppers. Yet I'd swept in wealth two customers couldn't dream of in a day. Most would go to Mi So-jeo, of course.

I cradled the Green Dragon Crescent Blade and headed to the 'secret side room' at the workshop's rear. Shut the back door, entering my private sanctuary, cut off from the world.

“Hoo.”

Deep breath in and out. Before the night's real work, I murmured to the air.

“Status Window.”

“Strength... 13!”

A thrilled gasp escaped my lips. Strength had risen from 12 to 13. Proof that pushing my body to extremes in reality—following a craftsman's path—steadily grew my physical stats, even without subspace buffs. Strength 13. My forearms now rivaled elite soldiers', thick and dense, no longer a mere porter's.

I glanced at the Green Dragon Crescent Blade by my feet. My dantian brimmed with 10 mana, ready to fling open the door to my sanctuary.

Green Dragon Crescent Blade. Tonight, in ten minutes of subspace time, how shall I dismantle and reassemble your frame?

My heart raced wildly again. Eyes gleaming, I cleaved the night's silence with a resolute voice.

“Subspace Opening.”