Chapter 32: Those Left Behind （1）
Wheeing━
A cold wind blew.
In the icy north wind, a man with a bushy beard stared blankly ahead.
Hook.
Hook, hook━
Regular intervals.
Regular breathing.
With each extension of the movement, repeated for an unknown amount of time, the man’s entire body, covered in scars, dynamically rippled. The old man who called himself Blood Demon stared intently at the man’s figure, then frowned and clicked his tongue.
“Tsk tsk, such intense killing intent.”
Creak.
He moved.
Ordinary people wouldn’t be able to detect the killing intent from the man.
Rather, the unnatural atmosphere, like a lost soul, unlike a human, evoked a strange sense of rejection. But the world the Blood Demon saw was different. The hazy, unfocused eyes. In the abyss that existed beyond them, a massive killing intent, which a human should never possess, was boiling like an active volcano.
“Although the Blood Demon Art originates from killing intent, if you rampage like you do without any sense of reason, you’ll lose yourself to madness and stab your own heart. Can I allow the result I painstakingly cultivated to meet such a futile end? Follow me.”
Swish.
He walked ahead.
The man, who seemed unlikely to engage in conversation, immediately reacted to the Blood Demon’s command and sheathed his sword.
They walked for a long time.
They opened the door to a shabby, warehouse-like house covered in snow carried by the wind and entered. Unexpectedly, a neatly organized workshop came into view. It was an unfamiliar sight for the man. There was a furnace for lighting a fire and various tools for refining. The Blood Demon grabbed a hammer from among them and tossed it on the floor.
“Pick it up.”
“……What are you trying to do?”
It was a hoarse voice.
As if he hadn’t had a sip of water, his cracked voice was like nails scratching against a chalkboard.
“I told you not to question my orders. It’s simple. From now on, you’re going to make a sword in here. A demonic sword that can contain your killing intent, a sword that doesn’t let the killing intent leak out. Until you make it, you won’t be allowed to go outside, train, or do anything else. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
The Blood Demon’s command is.
Like the heavens.
The man calmly picked up the hammer and looked at the Blood Demon.
“So, what do I do first?”
✦✦✦✦✦✦
Chirp chirp━
The snow melted.
Even during the season when birds announcing spring landed on branches, the man was still facing the intense heat in the workshop.
Whoosh.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
The fire blazed.
The man, swallowing the scorching heat as if his throat was burning, repeatedly struck the sword like a madman.
Clang━!
Clang, clang━!
What he was doing now.
He couldn’t understand it at all.
If he had any common sense about martial arts, he would have argued with the Blood Demon’s methods and asked common-sense questions. The problem was that he didn’t have that ability. To become stronger, he, who knew nothing, had to gulp down whatever the Blood Demon fed him, whether it was poison or medicine. Even though he couldn’t understand this act of suppressing the good driving force of killing intent with his mind, his exploding muscles repeatedly struck the blade.
Clang━!
Clang, clang!
One hammer strike.
One fragment of memory.
Clang━!
Clang, clang━!
With the repeated actions, the man’s mind filled with the people he wanted to k*ll.
Each time, the sword revealed its sharp form.
A sword so hideous that killing intent flowed from it, sharp enough to cut to the bone with the slightest touch, captured his attention. It was a result worthy of being called a demonic sword. Every time the Blood Demon checked the sword, he discarded it with a dissatisfied expression, and the man had to melt the sword again and create a new result.
The sun became intense.
The workshop was filled with unbearable heat, and after repeating countless failures, he saw snowflakes fluttering outside the window again. The seasons changed several times. He roughly cut off his sparsely grown beard with a blade and spent a considerable amount of time dedicated to blacksmithing, looking like a savage.
Then one day.
Creak.
The workshop door opened.
Just like the day he first entered.
It was a chilly winter outside, but the exposed upper body was emitting the heat it held as smoke.
Tssssss.
Swish.
He lifted the sword.
His eyes, now clear as a polished mirror, no longer revealed the bottom of the abyss.
“It’s a good sword.”
That day.
The Blood Demon said.
He had entered a new stage of the Blood Demon Art, where he could control his killing intent.
“To k*ll people.”
✦✦✦✦✦✦
Whoosh━
“Ugh.”
Memories rushed into his mind.
Kang San hurriedly grabbed his head with both hands, tucked his head between his legs, and gritted his teeth.
It was disgusting.
He wanted to vomit everything in his stomach, but he trembled and desperately swallowed the nausea. He couldn’t understand the Blood Demon, or his past life. Why did the Blood Demon, a fellow human, teach martial arts that involved killing people, and why did the man learn martial arts from such a monster?
A bloodbath will surely occur.
The future where people were treated like toys was in Kang San’s past life memories.
Grit.
“……D*mn it.”
His face flushed red.
When he barely managed to catch his breath and raised his head, Kang San witnessed a truly perplexing sight.
『The seventh Trial and Tribulation has been bestowed.』
『The Blood Demon Art is an extremely wicked martial art that turns one into a demon of the present world the moment one loses control of the inner demon. To avoid following the same path as your past life, you must master the way to control your killing intent. If you fail to create a result worthy of being called a demonic sword within a week from now, you will be judged to have failed to control the Blood Demon Art and will face judgment.』
『Reward: Mental Strength Stat Creation +10, Crafting Skill』
I wondered why it was quiet.
A mission that had never been mentioned during the Ranger missions, where he dedicated himself, suddenly popped up.
It was an unfamiliar method.
Until now, Trials and Tribulations involved enemies or situations to overcome, and they were resolved using his and his surroundings’ abilities. But this time, it was different. It was an absurd method for Kang San, who had no interest in crafting, to be told to make a sword. But he couldn’t ignore the mission message.
Just as he had gained a new ability.
He had now accepted the fact that Azmoon was omnipotent, capable of stealing anything at any time.
That’s when it happened.
The blacksmith, who was working, seemed to react to the sound and looked at Kang San.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Well…….”
He swallowed his wavering emotions.
At the end of his gaze.
He saw his sword, which hadn’t been worked on yet.
“Is it possible for me to work on my sword personally? Watching you work, I got the urge to try it myself.”
✦✦✦✦✦✦
Kang San’s question was unusual.
The blacksmith looked at him with a sullen expression, then tossed the sword as if telling him to take it and pointed to the side.
“If you go straight to the right, there’s a private workshop. You can use it as much as you want as long as you pay the usage fee.”
“Ah, thank you.”
He immediately moved.
Soon.
He reached the private workshop.
Everything was unfamiliar.
Kang San knew nothing about blacksmithing, and most Hunters, including Kang San, neglected this work. It was natural. All the technicians could do was restore durability, so who would value simple labor in a world where the logic of power prevailed? Generally, the prevailing view was that technicians like blacksmiths were people who had been left behind in the new world.
They couldn’t have a normal job.
Nor could they work as Hunters.
They were people who wandered the bottom, just like F-rank human shields, receiving wages in exchange for their time.
‘I have to make a demonic sword myself.’
Readily.
He couldn’t think of a way.
He thought about going back and asking the blacksmith, but it didn’t seem like he would have the necessary skills.
Items are.
Not in the realm of humans.
If the demonic sword Azmoon demanded was a weapon comparable to an item, there was no way to get clues from ordinary blacksmiths. Then there was only one way. To recall his past life memories. Considering that he was shown a slightly longer glimpse of his past life than last time, it seemed like he was supposed to find clues in that process.
Whoosh.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
He lit the furnace.
Following his memories, he melted the mana stone and poured it onto the sword.
And then.
Clang━!
Clang, clang━!
Just like in his past life memories.
He vigorously struck with the hammer.
His arms were numb from the tremendous recoil, but Kang San had no other choice but to keep hammering for now.
Clang!
Clang, clang!
It was clumsy at first.
But soon, Kang San’s movements became familiar.
As if absorbing his past life memories like a sponge, Kang San applied them to himself every time he projected his past life’s appearance. How the man hammered. How to heat the sword. He wasn’t sure if this was the right direction, but there was no other way to choose.
Clang━!
A clear sound.
His heart pounded.
Immersed in the work, Kang San’s mind was lost in thought.
‘Blood Demon. What kind of person is he?’
It was always a question.
The man wandered the world aimlessly for some reason.
His encounter with his master, the Blood Demon, was not a coincidence but fate, and that encounter brought a bloodbath to the Murim world. The killing intent that boiled when making the sword. The fragments of memories that surfaced from time to time made him think that maybe the man had a special reason. A reason to k*ll people, like revenge, for example.
Even so.
‘Murder is not right.’
A fragment of memory.
The man killed innocent people.
He cut down a swordsman who stepped forward to protect the people, and a single man created a sea of blood and corpses. The corpses scattered tragically. They must have been someone’s father, wife, or child, but their incomplete bodies didn’t give the man any justification.
He was a murderer.
There was no other way to describe him.
A normal person could never become a monster like him.
‘I’ve never made excuses for my life. I’ve faced countless misfortunes, but I didn’t resent them and give up on life. I fought back desperately. I’m different from you. Even if you, who have collapsed and lost your dignity as a human, are truly my past life, it’s separate from who I am now.’
Clang━!
Strength surged through his body.
He was sure.
This was the right direction.
He had a feeling that a new result would emerge if he hammered the sword like his past self.
A situation where he would lose everything if he failed.
Kang San expressed his desperation.
With each hammer strike, mana surged violently, as if seeping into the sword.
It was an unusual phenomenon.
Kang San didn’t stop hammering at the sight that the people of this world didn’t know.
But then.
Clang━!
Crack.
Shatter.
The sword shattered.
Kang San’s face was filled with despair.
The fragments scattering in all directions meant that the current method, and the mission to create a ‘demonic sword’, had failed.
