Return of The Mount Hua – Chapter 1426. So is this sword a failure? (1)
Editor: Hoamzz
Co-Translator: Xoxo
The indifferent hammer continued to strike the iron on the anvil as if wholly unconcerned with the events unfolding around it.
Kaang!
Each time the small hammer came down, the red-hot iron sprayed sparks in all directions.
Tang Jo-pyeong, who had been striking the hammer for so long, stared deeply into the iron he had lifted with the tongs and then pushed it back into the furnace that was emitting high-temperature flames.
The flames lit up his face in flickering red shadows.
Jang Ilso, who had been silently observing, finally parted his blood-red lips.
“Old man.”
A voice carrying a chilling coldness enveloped the old man.
"Where did the rest of Tang Family go?"
It was the kind of voice no one could ignore. Who could stay calm while a venomous snake coils itself around their body?
However, Tang Jo-pyeong showed no particular reaction to Jang Ilso’s words. He simply kept his gaze fixed on the furnace as if completely deaf.
Jang Ilso’s gaze grew more chilling. But before he could do anything, Tang Jo-pyeong absentmindedly pulled the glowing iron from the flames and resumed hammering.
Kaang! Kaang!
Each time the hammer struck the heated iron, a strange, inexplicable force flowed forth.
“Hmm.”
By now, even Jang Ilso found this amusing. He watched the old man intently with a smirk playing on his lips.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been ignored like this.”
The faces of the Red Hounds around him drained of color. Those who had closely escorted Jang Ilso could most keenly detect the twisted anger dissolved in that slow manner of speech.
One of the Red Hounds hastily stepped forward.
“This old man....”
"Step aside."
But Jang Ilso coldly rebuked them and blocked them. The Red Hounds who were about to step forward quickly retreated.
Step.
Jang Ilso slowly approached Tang Jo-pyeong. Now at a distance where just reaching out would be enough, he looked down at the small, frail old man who looked as though he might crumble at any moment. His gaze was transparent and devoid of any emotion.
It was nothing more than a waste of time anyway.
It doesn't matter to him what this old man does. A single swing of his hand could end his life effortlessly, and they could then pursue those who had fled. Though he knew this better than anyone, Jang Ilso stopped here out of simple curiosity. Yes, just that.
“What are you making?”
Again, no answer came.
Jang Ilso chuckled softly. A palpable killing intent bloomed in his sharply curved eyes.
But at that moment, a mumbled voice leaked out from Tang Jo-pyeong’s mouth without even turning his head.
“Dagger.”
“Hm?”
“I’m making a dagger.”
It was more like a muttering than a proper reply. Jang Ilso’s brow twitched ever so slightly.
Dagger... In this situation?
Kaang!
Tang Jo-pyeong struck the hammer again. An infinitely sinister light swirled in Jang Ilso's eyes as he stared at the sight.
"A lifetime's devotion of mine... has crumbled."
A voice tinged with scorn echoed.
“Everything I cultivated with my heart and soul has all turned to ashes. Yet all I can do is this. So even in the last moments of my life, I repeat what I've always done."
Jang Ilso curled the corner of his lips.
"If that is the life of so-called 'craftsmen'... then it is nothing but pitiful and truly pitiful, no?"
Kaang!
The sound of Tang Jo-pyeong’s hammer grew a little more intense. Jang Ilso twisted his smirk a little deeper. The sound of iron being shoved into the furnace rang out.
“How is it?”
“....”
"Does it seem like an extraordinary sword will come out?"
It wasn't a simple question but a knife piercing into the soul.
“Is a sword being made that’s great enough to compensate for that miserable end? Enough to console you that a life lived in such misery wasn’t meaningless?”
“....”
"Reality is cruel. The idea of a master craftsman pouring his soul into creating a legendary sword in his final moment is nonsense found only in stories. In reality, they’re just hammering half-melted iron and making nothing but worthless trash.”
For a brief moment, Tang Jo-Pyeong glanced at Jang Ilso with an unreadable gaze before pulling the dagger from the furnace and placing it back on the anvil.
Jang Ilso asked.
"How does it feel? To have everything you are denied? To cling to a useless toil despite all that?"
His stomach twisted. Those who have lost everything often pretend to be magnanimous at the end, as if they never desired it in the first place.
Jang Ilso had seen countless fools play the enlightened in their final moments. Jang Ilso could not help but feel nauseous whenever he saw such people.
Those who cry and beg were better. Because they're honest. Those who crawled and screamed for mercy were pure. Unlike losers who plastered false meaning onto the meaningless, who babbled about wanting what they never truly desired.
"Answer me. Is that dagger worthy of being the final work of your life? If your life was so worthless…”
A voice that seemed to twist the soul in its grasp.
"Is there any need to cling to it? Hm?"
Jang Ilso's hand twitched beneath his wide sleeve. As if to show he had no intention of merely threatening with words.
But despite knowing that Jang Ilso could end his life at any moment, Tang Jo-pyeong simply examined the heated iron this way and that, as if his own life didn't matter at all.
Kaang!
Tang Jo-pyeong's hammering began again. The red sparks kept flying up as if the old man's soul was scattering.
The iron on the anvil gradually took on the form of a dagger, and Tang Jo-pyeong examined it carefully with tongs before shoving it back into the furnace.
Tang Jo-pyeong slightly turned his head to look at Jang Ilso. The old man’s indifferent gaze and Jang Ilso’s swaying gaze met in the air.
Jang Ilso couldn't hold back the disgust that suddenly surged within. He was about to swing his hand when Tang Jo-pyeong opened his mouth.
"Gather the iron with the highest purity among countless irons."
“....”
"Melt it in a furnace so hot it's cruel."
Kaang!
Once again, Tang Jo-pyeong's hammer struck the dagger.
“You strike it hundreds, thousands of times. Again, and again.”
Kaang!
“Until it attains the most perfect form and strength. Countless times twisted, broken, bent..."
Kaaaaang!
Tang Jo-pyeong struck down with force, then placed the dagger into the water bucket beside him.
Chiiiiiiik!
“Thrown into filthy water.”
Stark white steam rose roughly from the water embracing the heated dagger.
“Only after being ground down again and again to the very end, peeling away its own flesh, only then... does it become a treasured sword.”
At that moment, Jang Ilso's gaze became strangely calm.
Tang Jo-pyeong’s voice contained a peculiar resonance. That resonance brought forth a weight that even Jang Ilso couldn’t easily brush aside.
"I have spent my life doing just that. Forging stronger, sharper, greater blades. Making the finest weapons. And breaking and remelting anything that falls even slightly short of the standard."
Tang Jo-pyeong took the dagger from the bucket and placed it on the anvil.
A darkish color and bumpy surface. Even though it had not yet undergone polishing, it was in no way something that could be called a fine weapon.
Though forged in a worn-out little furnace by the frail arms of an old man, this was still the final sword crafted by a master of Tang Family. Yet its appearance was so extremely shabby it was hard to believe this fact.
Tang Jo-pyeong examined the shabby dagger with meticulous care, as if it were one of the world's greatest masterpieces that would never be found again in his lifetime.
Kwak.
He gripped the not-yet-cooled dagger with his bare hand.
Chiiiik!
As his seared flesh tore, blood spilled and soaked the blade. But the old man showed no sign of pain. He merely looked down at the dagger indifferently and spoke.
"So is this dagger a failure?"
Tang Jo-pyeong slowly put down the hammer.
Abandoning the dagger that still needed countless more strikes. Leaving behind this crude, inferior dagger.
Yet there was no regret in the motion of his hand as he released the hammer.
Rotating the dagger slowly in his palm, he studied every inch of it with calm eyes before giving a slow nod.
And then he extended the dagger in his hand to none other than Jang Ilso.
Silence fell. Just as Jang Ilso was about to open his mouth at the old man’s incomprehensible actions, Tang Jo-pyeong’s indifferent voice cut through him first.
“Take it.”
For a moment, unmistakable ‘bewilderment’ flashed across Jang Ilso's face. He glanced back and forth between the offered dagger and Tang Jo-pyeong, his eyes faintly twisting.
"...What kind of farce is this?"
No matter how close an old man might be to the end of his life, as long as he bears the Tang surname, he couldn't possibly not know who stands before him.
Yet this old man is now offering Jang Ilso the dagger he created in the last moments of his life. Surely he wasn’t offering it in some desperate bid for mercy?
As if answering Jang Ilso’s unspoken question, Tang Jo-pyeong spoke.
"Iron has no destined master. The one who holds it becomes its owner. It’s simply that you happen to be here now.”
Jang Ilso looked down at the crooked dagger in his hand as though the whole thing was absurd.
“…This dagger might just end up stabbed into the neck of the very Tang Family?”
Even then, Tang Jo-pyeong did not withdraw the blade.
He simply stared at Jang Ilso. And before long, Jang Ilso’s face too lost any semblance of expression. After remaining silent like that, Jang Ilso slowly reached out and grasped the offered dagger.
Squeeze.
Heat that had not yet dissipated was transmitted. Tang Jo-pyeong’s dried blood smeared on the surface of the dagger stained his hand dark red.
Jang Ilso studied the twisted, mangled dagger for a long moment before tightening his grip and lifting his head. Ready to sever the old man’s neck in one clean motion.
But.
"This old man..."
Jang Ilso's face contorted.
Tang Jo-pyeong's head had slumped down. At some point, the old man's breath had ceased.
Shabby.
The hammer finally set down in his last moment, the body twisted with age, even the worn furnace before him—all of it was just shabby.
But even the great Jang Ilso could not mock as shabby the smile that lingered on Tang Jo-pyeong's lips.
Like the dying embers of a furnace, Tang Jo-pyeong's body gradually cooled down. Jang Ilso, who had been watching the Tang family artisan who had quietly breathed his last, turned away with his long robe fluttering.
"A waste of time."
A cold voice rang out.
"They’re not here. Hunt them down. They couldn’t have gone far."
“Yes, Ryeonju-nim!”
The Maninbang members and Red Dogs who had been holding their breath around him scattered in all directions. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before they found the trail of those who fled.
Tak.
Just as Jang Ilso was about to walk away without hesitation, a soft sound brushed past his ear. It was the sound of the furnace burning down. A strange light flashed across Jang Ilso’s face.
"...Hmph."
Paat!
His hand lashed out. As energy poured forth, the entire workshop instantly collapsed, burying Tang Jo-pyeong's corpse.
Kuuuung!
Jang Ilso glared coldly at the ruins before roughly shoving the dagger into his robes.
“I despise being in anyone’s debt.”
Leaving behind words no one would hear, he turned and walked away.
Thus, the smithy completely crumbled.
On the ruins of that workshop, now devoid of meaning and therefore abandoned by all, a single small and worn hammer protruded conspicuously. It was like the tombstone of someone who had finally found peace.
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