Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 433

Chung Myung was lying in bed, and people were whispering outside his door because he had tried to trick someone and failed.

“Serves you right. People should live honestly.”

“He tried to be clever, but he fell into his own trap.”

“Serves him right.”

People were whispering things for Chung Myung to hear. He was tired of it. He suddenly sat up and threw a pillow.

“Kraaah! Get out!”

The pillow didn’t fly with its usual strength. It fell weakly to the floor.

People stood at the door and watched him. They chuckled, happy to see him in trouble.

“No strength, no strength at all.”

“He’s dying.”

“Aiyo. Our Chung Myung is all old now. Ah, is it because he’s the Plum Blossom Sword Saint? Tsk tsk. All old⋯⋯.”

“Are you crazy? You’ll get us all in trouble!”

Yoon Jong quickly hit Jo Gul’s jaw. Jo Gul, caught by surprise, fell to the floor and stood up, looking wronged.

“Ah, no. Why did you hit me!”

“Don’t you dare say the Plum Blossom Sword Saint is old and weak! You deserve to be punished!”

“…Ah, right.”

Chung Myung watched his senior brothers’ antics and mumbled as he lay back down weakly.

“I’d rather die than suffer like this.”

I am the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, you bastards! Me!

No, I should have said I wasn’t the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. I should have just kept talking until they understood, even if they didn’t get it at first.

Why am I suffering like this because I pretended to be myself? This state…

“Keeeueeeung.”

Chung Myung pulled the blanket up to his neck and shivered. His whole body ached, and he felt a chill.

“…I really thought I was going to die.”

“Well, why did you try to be so clever?”

“Did I do it for my own good? Huh? Did I do it just for my own benefit?”

Chung Myung rolled his eyes while lying down. But his disciples weren’t intimidated in the slightest. Instead, they grinned even more.

Isn’t it the rule to tease a tiger when its claws are gone?

But their fun was quickly cut short. Unfortunately, this toothless tiger had a fearsome protector.

“Don’t torment the patient and get out!”

“Tch.”

“Too bad.”

“I wanted to do it a little more⋯⋯.”

“Right now! Get out!”

Tang Soso shouted fiercely, glaring.

The other disciples, including Baek Cheon, moved away from the door with gloomy faces. They weren’t afraid of their junior sister Soso, but they were afraid of Soso the physician.

“Lie straight, Senior Brother.”

“Keeueung.”

Chung Myung immediately lay down without a word, and Tang Soso carefully placed a cooled towel on his forehead.

“Tell me. Why on earth did you do that?”

“No, I was just trying to get that bastard Apyeong to⋯⋯!”

Plop!

The second wet towel landed sharply on Chung Myung’s face.

“How dare you speak of the Lord of the Dang Family.”

“…Yes. I was trying to persuade the Lord of the Dang Family⋯⋯.”

“Tsk.”

Tang Soso clicked her tongue briefly and removed the towel from Chung Myung’s face.

“Your muscles are strained. Even if you are a senior brother, it’s strange if you’re fine after cutting that much Manchun Iron (it’s a very strong and hard metal).”

Then, voices were heard again from the door.

“He took all the work!”

“That’s right. The work! He always tells me off for taking work! And he does it himself!”

“I told you to get out!”

Tang Soso shook her fist and shouted, causing the other disciples to flinch and run away.

“Seriously!”

These people can’t act their age! Act their age!

She shook her head and looked at Chung Myung.

“Anyway, how are you feeling now?”

“…My right arm won’t move.”

“It would be strange if it did.”

Tang Soso clicked her tongue.

If his arm moved after cutting that much Manchun Iron, that would be wrong.

‘He’s really not human.’

Whether he’s sick or not, the fact that he did it is amazing.

Dang Jo Pyung made the block of iron so big because he thought the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was working. If it was just for the Dang Family, he would never have made it so large.

Dividing the melted Manchun Iron to pour it increases the probability of molten metal splashing, which in turn greatly increases the probability of people getting hurt.

So, in the end, it could be said that the Dang Family artisans were a little safer because of Chung Myung.

‘So, I should definitely be grateful, but.’

Why is he so pathetic⋯⋯. Why is he so⋯⋯.

It was also quite amazing that someone who had cut that much Manchun Iron into hundreds of pieces looked so pathetic.

“It’s not just your muscles; you’re exhausted from using too much internal energy (the special power martial artists use), so you need to rest and recuperate for a while without moving. Got it?”

“…Alright.”

Tang Soso got up from her seat when Chung Myung answered obediently. But instead of going outside, she slowly walked towards the corner of the room.

Slightly embarrassed, Chung Myung rolled his eyes.

“Uh⋯⋯ that⋯⋯.”

Soon, Tang Soso thoroughly searched behind the small cabinet, found a pile of liquor bottles, and glared.

“I might as well just pour it all over your face!”

“⋯⋯.”

“Rest!”

When even she left, it finally became quiet. Chung Myung stared at the ceiling with a blank look.

“Aigo, what a fate.”

I suffer all the hardship, and I can’t even drink.

Senior Brother Head Disciple.

Am I supposed to live like this? Huh?

– What.

“⋯⋯.”

That man seems a bit colder these days?

Is it just my imagination?

The next day, afternoon.

“Keeueung. Even resting, my body isn’t what it used to be.”

Aigoo, that’s why you should die when you get old⋯⋯. No, wait. Am I young?

Chung Myung frowned, massaging his back as he headed to the workshop.

Perhaps because he had overexerted himself, his body hadn’t recovered even after resting for a full day and circulating his energy non-stop. But he couldn’t just lie in his room.

Creating the Manchun Iron Sword would be a significant milestone for the future of Mount Hua. He couldn’t let them do such a thing carelessly.

“Just try to make it carelessly. I’ll tear down the Dang Family’s pillars this time!”

Chung Myung felt angry and determined. He went to Dang Jo Pyung’s workshop quickly. When he arrived, he stopped and laughed in surprise.

“Look at this! Look at this! A day has passed, and they haven’t even started!”

So lazy, really!

The sound of hammers wasn’t heard, and there wasn’t even a sign of people.

Good heavens!

There aren’t even any people!

“Huh?”

⋯⋯Why aren’t there any people? That can’t be.

Chung Myung, looking around the workshop, stopped someone passing by.

“Excuse me.”

“Oh! Mount Hua Divine Dragon, Chung Myung!”

“May I ask you something? Where did everyone here go?”

“Ah, this is the workshop for extracting the block of metal, and the quenching is done elsewhere. Go straight that way and then behind the large building.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

Chung Myung bowed politely and diligently waddled towards the large building.

The closer he got to the building, the louder the welcome sound became.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

“That’s right! Good hammering sound!”

Claaaang! Claaaang! Claaaang!

“⋯⋯The hammering sound is excessively good.”

A noisy sound grew louder and louder. The fact that the people working were boisterous meant they had energy, which was a good thing, but the problem was that the content was quite unusual.

“Grab it!”

“Damn it, don’t let it go there!”

“Hit it more! More! What are you doing! It’s heated up! Hit it more!”

“Can’t you hit it straight?”

“⋯⋯.”

Chung Myung tilted his head and headed behind the building.

What’s with all the fuss to make one sword⋯⋯.

“Oh my goodness?”

Chung Myung’s eyes widened.

It was a large workshop.

The doors of the workshop, which was incomparably larger than Dang Jo Pyung’s workshop he had seen before, were wide open, and inside, the Dang Family artisans were all striking the red-hot lumps of metal with hammers.

‘How many people are there?’

One, two. Uh⋯⋯. Ten? Twenty?

That many people were sweating profusely in front of the charcoal-fired furnace, holding hammers as tall as they were.

Screeeech!

A man pulled out the red-hot Hancheol metal from the fire. He used tongs to hold it and shouted, “Hit it now!”

Clang! Clang!

Hammers crashed down quickly, one after another. Sparks flew everywhere like tiny, hot stars.

“What kind of metal is this? It’s so hard!” one man yelled.

“Damn it! It cools down too fast!” another shouted.

“I’ve hit it ten times, and it’s still not flat!” cried a third.

The Dangga artisans were almost crying out in despair.

“Uh…”

Watching the scene, Chung Myung quietly shut his mouth.

Uh… So, this is… A bit different from what I imagined…

“Grrrr.”

“You spineless fool! What did you even do to collapse! Immediate shift change!”

“Yes!”

One of those hammering gave up and fell backward. The others didn’t really react. They dragged him away, and another man quickly took his place.

“Damn it all! It’s already cooled down! Heat it again!”

“Um, how long do we have to hit this? I’ve been hitting it for half a day, and it’s not even half flattened.”

“Did you think handling Hancheol was easy? Get ready to hammer for seven days and nights!”

“Se-seven days and nights…”

Seven days? Someone faints after half a day, and they expect seven days?

Just then, Dang Jo-pyeong walked out from inside the smithy, looking around.

He put his hands behind his back, clicked his tongue, and grumbled.

“Aiiing! You eat such expensive meals and still look weak! How much did you hammer to be so worn out! Back in the old days, your fathers would hammer for three days and nights and still have a party!”

“…”

No, that just means they’d drink and pass out. You shouldn’t think of it that way.

“G-grrr…”

“Salt! Bring salt here! He’s dehydrated!”

“He’s sweating too much!”

Chung Myung’s eyes, watching the smithy, trembled as if an earthquake had struck.

‘Is this a battlefield?’ Why is it such a fuss to make one sword?

“You’ve arrived?”

At the voice, Chung Myung quickly turned his head. The other disciples of Mount Hua were approaching with faces as shocked as his.

Chung Myung asked,

“When did they start doing that?”

“Before sunrise, very early in the morning?”

The sun is at its highest point now, so it’s been well over half a day.

“But why are they like that?”

Chung Myung pointed to the Hancheol ingot being hammered. It had been hammered for over half a day, and the Hancheol ingot had only become slightly blunted at the end.

“It’s so tough that it won’t flatten.”

“Then what are they going to do?”

“They say they’ll keep hitting it until it flattens? Whether it’s a week or half a month?”

“…”

Chung Myung’s mouth dropped open.

‘What’s with this brute force?’

Huh? I thought the Sichuan Dangga would have something like, clink clink! Scritch scritch! And then, ta-da! It’s made! But they’re just grinding people to dust, hammering away to make it.

‘I should have realized what the Dangga was like from the moment I saw that Dangbo fellow.’ This is also a remarkably simple sect.

Just then, Dang Jo-pyeong, who had spotted Chung Myung, rushed out.

“Sword Saint! You’ve arrived?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry. It’s going very well.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Hehehe. It’s faster than I thought.”

“Your sense of time seems a bit off.”

Chung Myung blankly stared at Dang Jo-pyeong and asked,

“So, how long will it take to make all of this?”

“Not long at all.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re making progress?”

“You learn by doing. Keep hammering, and you’ll understand.”

Chung Myung, about to complain about the soulless answers, opened his mouth. But before he could, Dang Jo-pyeong firmly said,

“Those children are also artisans of the Dangga.”

“…”

“The chance to handle Hancheol directly doesn’t come easily. It may seem foolish, but that method is the best way to understand Hancheol, a very strong metal. Once the training is over, they will use their own methods, so don’t worry.”

The old man’s eyes now seemed to belong to an artisan who had supported the Dangga for his entire life.

Faced with those eyes, even the great Chung Myung couldn’t find fault.

“More importantly!”

Dang Jo-pyeong reached out and grabbed Chung Myung.

“Come this way.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Come on, come this way!”

Chung Myung was dragged by Dang Jo-pyeong into the smithy.

Passing the furnace where hot air poured out, and opening the makeshift door at the innermost part, a small, glowing charcoal brazier and an anvil were visible.

And on the anvil was a Hancheol ingot. It seemed to have a brighter light than the Myriad Year Hancheol he had seen outside a little while ago.

Chung Myung tilted his head and asked,

“What is this?”

But Dang Jo-pyeong didn’t answer and abruptly demanded,

“Put your hand out here.”

“Why suddenly my hand?”

“Quickly.”

Chung Myung confusedly held out his hand.

Then, Dang Jo-pyeong suddenly grabbed the knife placed next to him and tried to cut Chung Myung’s hand.

“Whoa!”

Chung Myung, who had almost kicked Dang Jo-pyeong, barely managed to stop his foot. He was more surprised that he had almost kicked a dying old man with all his might.

“Ah, I automatically counterattack when someone tries to hit me! What are you doing!” Chung Myung burst out in anger.

Dang Jo-pyeong, flinching, explained with an embarrassed face,

“I need blood.”

“Blood?”

Dang Jo-pyeong nodded.

“After cutting your hand, sprinkle that blood on the Hancheol ingot. Other places are fine too, but the blood from the right hand that uses the sword would be better.”

“What are you trying to do?”

Chung Myung, still suspicious, asked, and Dang Jo-pyeong smiled slyly.

“I can’t make the Sword Saint’s sword like other Hancheol swords. I will make it myself. Specially.”

“Huh?”

Suddenly, he’s making my sword?

“Why are you doing something I didn’t even ask you to do?” Asked in confusion.

Dang Jo-pyeong looked at him with slightly sad eyes.

“Seeing you struggling even to cut a little bit of that Myriad Year Hancheol yesterday, I thought, ‘The Sword Saint has aged a lot.’ No matter how much you try to rejuvenate, you can’t stop time.”

“…”

“If your strength weakens, you should use a good sword. Seeing the Sword Saint holding an ordinary Plum Blossom Sword pained my heart. Now that we have a Hancheol ingot, I will make a very good one for you. A sword only for the Sword Saint!”

“My sword?”

“Yes.”

Dang Jo-pyeong nodded firmly.

“It is the Sword Saint’s sword, not anyone else’s. It will be the sword of the best in Mount Hua.”

“Can I even receive something like that?”

No, well, I am the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, but I’m also not the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. This feels strange and complicated…

Even though Chung Myung loves free stuff, this situation is a bit different.

Even as he saw Chung Myung revealing his complicated feelings, Dang Jo-pyeong remained firm.

“If not the Sword Saint, who else can use a sword made by this Dang Jo-pyeong? Don’t refuse and quickly pour your blood. A special weapon must first know its master.”

“Hmm.”

Chung Myung reluctantly cut his palm and dripped blood onto the ingot. Strangely enough, the blood that fell on the Hancheol didn’t flow to the side but soaked right in.

“Good!”

Dang Jo-pyeong sat in front of the anvil and brought his hand to the charcoal brazier.

With a practiced flick of his wrist, Dang Jo-pyeong adjusted the charcoal, and *whoosh!* flames leaped up, emitting blinding heat.

“Myriad Year Hancheol and the Sword Saint’s sword.”

A smile formed on Dang Jo-pyeong’s wrinkled lips.

“They say everyone has their role.”

“…”

“I wondered why this old man was still alive, but it seems this sword was the fate left for me.”

His voice was incredibly majestic and clear.

“Watch, Sword Saint. I will make a sword with everything I have.”

The aura coming from the artisan who had supported the Dangga for a hundred years silenced even the great Chung Myung.

And then, the hammer, filled with the artisan’s soul, began to strike the Hancheol ingot containing Chung Myung’s blood.