Chapter 1426
So, is this flying dagger a failure? (1)
The indifferent hammer continued to strike the iron on the anvil relentlessly, as if completely oblivious to the events unfolding around it.
Clang!
With each strike of the small hammer, sparks flew in all directions from the red-hot iron.
For a long time, Tang Jopyeong continued his hammering, until he finally scrutinized the iron held by the tongs with deep eyes, then swiftly shoved it into the blazing furnace with a push.
His face, illuminated by the flames engulfing the iron, flickered in the firelight.
At this sight, Jang Ilso, who had been silently observing Tang Jopyeong, finally spoke, his red lips slowly parting.
“Old man,”
his voice carried a chilling edge,
“Where have the other Tangga’s people go?”
The voice was compelling, one that no one could ignore, much like a viper wrapping around its prey, leaving no room for staying calm.
Yet, despite Jang Ilso’s eerie voice, Tang Jopyeong showed no reaction whatsoever, as if completely deaf, his gaze fixed on the furnace.
Jang Ilso’s gaze turned sharp, but before he could intervene, the blacksmith nonchalantly retrieved the heated iron and began hammering it again.
Clang! Clang!
With each strike of the hammer, an inexplicable sense of power emanated from the iron.
“Hmm.”
Jang Ilso chuckled with a hint of amusement, observing Tang Jopyeong with interest.
“It’s been quite a while since I’ve been treated with such disregard.”
In an instant, the faces of the vigilant Red Dogs standing guard around him lost their color. They, who had escorted Jang Ilso for quite some time, more than anyone, could discern the twisted anger laced in that slow speech.
One of Red Dogs hurriedly stepped forward.
“This old man…”
“Step aside.”
Jang Ilso coldly interjected, blocking their path. Red Dogs, about to advance, reluctantly backed off.
Step by step, Jang Ilso approached Tang Jopyeong. Standing within arm’s reach, he looked down at the frail old man, who looked like he could crumble at any moment.
There was a transparent gaze devoid of any emotion.
It was clear – it’s just a waste of time.
Regardless of what the old man was doing, it didn’t matter. Jang Ilso could easily kill him with a wave of his hand and then chase after the fleeing enemies. He knew that better than anyone else. Yet, the reason Jang Ilso paused here was simply out of curiosity. Yes, that was all.
“What are you making?”
He asked again, receiving no response.
Jang Ilso smirked. Clear murderous aura shone in his beautifully curved eyes.
But at that moment, from the unmoving lips of Tang Jopyeing, a muttering voice emerged.
“A flying dagger.”
“Hmm?”
“I am making a flying dagger.”
Tang Jopyeong’s response was more of a monologue than an answer. Jang Ilso furrowed his brow slightly.
…A dagger… In this situation?
Clang!
Tang Jopyeong struck the hammer again. A profoundly evil glint flickered in Jang Ilso’s eyes as he stared fixated at the scene.
“What you dedicated your whole life to… has crumbled.”
The voice rang out, tinged with a mocking tone.
“Everything you had devoted your heart to has turned to ashes. Yet, there is nothing else to be done. So, even at the end of life, one repeats the same tasks.”
Jang Ilso’s lips curled up.
“If this is the life of a craftsman… it’s just pitiful, utterly pitiful.”
Clang!
The sound of Tang Jopyeong’s hammer grew more intense. Jang Ilso’s smirk widened slightly. The sound of iron being pushed into the furnace echoed.
“How about it?”
“…”
“Do you think a remarkable sword will come out?”
It wasn’t just a simple question – it was a blade that pierced the soul.
“Is there a sword magnificent enough to compensate for that dreadful end? Can a life filled with misery find meaning in it?”
“…”
“Reality is cruel. A magnificent sword crafted with the soul of a master in his final moments, like in stories, is just nonsense. In reality, it’s just pounding on poorly melted iron, producing nothing but worthless junk.”
With a fleeting glance of inexplicable eyes at Jang Ilso, Tang Jopyeong lifted the hammer, took the dagger out of the furnace again and placed it on the anvil.
Jang Ilso asked.
“How does it feel? Do you feel like everything you have ever had is being denied? Clinging to futile endeavors nonetheless.”
It twisted his gut. Those who had lost everything often put on a brave front in their final moments. In truth, he had never wished for such a thing.
He had witnessed countless idiots act as if they had attained liberation at their last moments. Each time, Jang Ilso couldn’t help but feel nauseated.
Better to have those who cry and scream. They are honest. Those who cling to life, shouting for mercy while clawing the ground, are pure. Compared to losers who attribute false meaning to meaningless things, claiming they never wanted what they actually did.
“Answer me. Is that dagger worth being the last thing in your life? Such a trivial life…”
A voice that seemed to grasp the soul, biting into it.
“Do you really need to cling to it? Huh?”
Under his wide sleeves, Jang Ilso’s hand twitched. He seemed to have no intention of just making verbal threats.
But Tang Jopyeong, knowing that Jang Ilso could end his life at any moment, seemed indifferent to his own life, just scrutinizing the heated iron.
Clang!
Tang Jopyeong’s hammering resumed. Red sparks flew incessantly, resembling the scattered soul of an old man.
The iron on the anvil gradually took on the shape of a flying dagger, and Tang Jopyeong carefully inspected the iron he had grasped with tongs before thrusting it into the furnace.
Tang Jopyeong slowly turned his head and looked at Jang Ilso. The indifferent gaze of the old man and the flickering glare of Jang Ilso intertwined in the air.
Jang Ilso couldn’t help but shudder with disgust for a moment. He was about to raise his hand, but Tang Jopyeong spoke up.
“Gathering the purest iron among countless iron bars.”
“…”
“Melting it in the cruelly hot furnace.”
Clang!
Once again, Tang Jopyeong’s hammer struck the dagger.
“Striking and striking again, hundreds, thousands of times.”
Clang!
“Until it achieves the most perfect form and strength. Bent, broken, and twisted countless times…”
Clang!
After delivering a strong blow, Tang Jopyeong placed the dagger in a nearby bucket of water.
Hiss!
“Immersed in the dirty sewage.”
Rising steam billowed fiercely from the water embracing the heated dagger.
“Only after being sharpened and stripped of flesh again and again until the very last moment, only then… it becomes a famous sword.”
For a moment, Jang Ilso’s gaze became oddly serene.
Tang Jopyeong’s voice carried a strange resonance. It bore a weight even Jang Ilso couldn’t easily dismiss.
“I’ve been doing such things all my life. Creating stronger, sharper, more remarkable swords, crafting exceptional weapons, and if they didn’t meet the standards even slightly, I broke them and melted them down again.”
Tang Jopyeong lifted the flying dagger from the bucket onto the anvil.
Its dull color, uneven surface. Even though it hadn’t been polished yet, it was far from being called a famous sword.
Made from a worn-out small furnace and an arm that had grown feeble with age, yet it was the sword crafted by the craftsman of the Tang clan in his twilight years. But its appearance was so pitifully shabby that one could hardly believe the fact.
Tang Jopyeong meticulously inspected the pitiful dagger, as if it could become the peerless famous sword that would never be seen again in his lifetime.
Clang!
Tang Jopyeong grasped the still hot dagger with his hand.
Hiss!
Blood flowed, dripping from torn flesh, staining the dagger. Yet the old man, seemingly oblivious to the pain, simply looked at the dagger and said.
“So, is this flying dagger a failure?”
Tang Jopyeong slowly lowered the hammer.
Leaving the dagger, which seemed to still need countless more beatings. Leaving the unremarkable, faulty dagger.
But there was no hint of regret in his hand as he lowered the hammer.
Turning the dagger slowly in his hand, inspecting every corner with a composed gaze, he nodded slowly.
Then, he extended the flying dagger he held in his hand to none other than Jang Ilso.
Silence fell. Jang Ilso was about to speak in response to the old man’s inexplicable actions, but Tang Jopyeong’s indifferent voice cut in first.
“Take it.”
For a moment, a clear sense of “confusion” appeared on Jang Ilso’s face. He alternated his gaze between the offered dagger and Tang Jopyeong, his brow subtly furrowing.
“…What’s the meaning of this?”
Even though the old man’s life was fading, as long as he retained the Tang family name, one could not disregard who was standing before him.
Yet, here was this old man, extending the dagger he had crafted as the last work of his life to Jang Ilso. Surely he wasn’t begging for his life by offering this.
As if answering Jang Ilso’s question, Tang Jopyeong spoke.
“Iron has no predetermined owner. The one who holds it is the owner. You’re just here now.”
Jang Ilso looked down at the rough and uneven dagger as if it were absurd.
“…But isn’t it possible for this dagger to be thrust into the neck of someone from the Tang clan?”
Even at this remark, Tang Jopyeong didn’t retract the offered dagger.
He simply stared at Jang Ilso, motionless and silent. Suddenly, Jang Ilso’s face became expressionless. After a moment of silence, Jang Ilso slowly reached out and grasped the offered flying dagger.
Squelch.
The lingering heat transferred to his hand. Tang Jopyeong’s blood, dried on the surface of the dagger, stained his hand a dark crimson.
Staring intently at the misshapen, bumpy dagger, Jang Ilso lifted his head while firmly gripping it. He was preparing to swiftly blow Tang Jopyeong’s head with a single strike.
But…
“This old man…”
Jang Ilso’s face twisted.
Tang Jopyeong’s head hung low. In that moment, the old man’s breath had ceased.
Pathetic.
The hammer lowered only in the final moments, the aged and twisted body, even the worn-out furnace before them, all were simply pitiful.
Yet, there was a hint of a smile on Tang Jopyeong’s lips. Even Jang Ilso could not laugh at it.
As Tang Jopyeong’s body gradually cooled like the dying flame in the furnace, Jang Ilso, silently observing the master of the Tang clan who had passed away in silence, turned away, his robes fluttering.
“What a waste of time.”
The cold voice echoed.
“There’s no one here. Chase them. They couldn’t have gone far.”
“Yes, Ryeonju!”
The surrounding members of Maninbang and Red Dogs, who had been holding their breath, scattered in all directions. They would likely soon discover the traces of those who had fled.
Tap.
Jang Ilso, who was about to walk away without hesitation, paused as a sound brushed past his ear. It was the sound of the furnace burning. A strange light flickered in Jang Ilso’s eyes.
“…Hmph.”
Thud!
Jang Ilso’s hand swung down. As the force poured out, the entire workshop collapsed in an instant, burying Tang Jopyeong’s body beneath it.
Rumble!
Staring coldly at the collapsed workshop, Jang Ilso roughly shoved the dagger he held into his garment.
“I detest being in debt.”
Leaving behind words that no one would hear, he turned and walked away.
The workshop had now completely crumbled.
Atop the debris of the workshop, now devoid of meaning and thus abandoned by all, was a single small hammer, crookedly protruding. It seemed like the tombstone of someone who had finally found peace.
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