Episode 264: Return to the Demonic Sect
Rumble…
Crash!
The massive figure finally toppled over. Its eyes flickered with a blue light before turning into a dull, stone-like gray. At last, the towering nuisance had fallen.
Sabi Kang exhaled deeply, surveying the surroundings. The creature had caused such a ruckus that the cavern had expanded, its walls crumbling and floor caving in, creating more space.
Sabi Kang approached the fallen giant’s right hand. Each finger was as tall as an average adult. He stared at the hammer it held, then took a few steps back.
In the next moment,
“Haah!”
With a shout, he swung his sword, Veritas, unleashing a powerful arc of energy. In a flash, Sabi Kang struck the hammer with all his might.
Clang!
The ear-splitting sound echoed through the cavern, but the hammer remained unmoved. Undeterred, Sabi Kang struck again.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
How many times did he pound on the hammer? Finally,
Crack…! Crack!
Rumble!
The hammer began to crack, and stone dust crumbled away, revealing a pristine hammer nestled inside as if it had been sleeping there.
“The Hammer of Bashuk…!”
A grin spread across Sabi Kang’s face. Who would have thought he’d go through such trouble to find this?
“Hahaha!”
His laughter rang out in the cavern, a moment of joy after a grueling ordeal. He examined the Hammer of Bashuk closely. It looked like an ordinary hammer, but it was a legendary tool crafted by one of the finest blacksmiths in the demon realm. While forging diamonds with a steel hammer is nearly impossible, forging steel with a diamond hammer is much easier. Bashuk’s hammer could refine any metal, even Veritas, though it would take considerable time.
With the Hammer of Bashuk in hand, Sabi Kang had a chance to disrupt the demon army’s plans.
“Stealing is always the sweetest,” he chuckled, climbing onto the giant’s back with the hammer. He raised it high and brought it down with force.
Boom!
The ground shook with a deafening noise, and the giant crumbled effortlessly. Inside its shattered body lay a treasure trove of magical stones and vibrant metals. This was the second reason Sabi Kang needed Bashuk’s hammer. The seemingly ordinary giant—though no moving giant is truly ordinary—contained rare metals perfect for crafting legendary weapons.
Sabi Kang diligently gathered the fallen metals. Some absorbed mana on their own, while others could be embedded in weapons or mixed during forging to enhance strength. After collecting every last piece, he left the cavern.
With his martial arts skills, exiting the cavern was no challenge. Outside, he found that his internal energy, though vast, was still limited in effectiveness. He stored much of it as mana and began his journey back to the village.
**
“Whoa. What happened to you?”
“Is that how you greet your master?”
Sabi Kang frowned at Churyang’s comment. Unfazed, Churyang inspected him closely.
“You look like you’ve been to the underworld.”
“Not entirely wrong.”
Sabi Kang flopped onto a bed. As Churyang noted, he was a mess. He hadn’t expected the journey to take three days. He thought half a day would suffice, maybe two at most. But it took three full days to return. He was too exhausted to leave immediately. Though he gained significant mana, he’d survived on fish alone for three days. His clothes were in tatters from fighting without internal energy.
“Did you get the bait?”
“Yes.”
“Seems like catching the bait nearly caught you.”
“It was worth it.”
“If you say so, Master. But your clothes are a wreck. I’ll get you some new ones.”
“You’ll go?”
“Who else? I have to take care of you.”
“Surprising. Not sending Heuk-gwi?”
Churyang grinned.
“Turns out he’s a decent guy.”
“Really? Then go ahead.”
“Will do. Be back soon.”
As Churyang left, Sabi Kang spoke to the air.
“How did you manage it?”
“I just told him that menial tasks aren’t for just anyone.”
Heuk-gwi’s voice came from nowhere.
“And?”
“They’re for those you truly trust and rely on.”
“That one line changed him?”
“He’s simpler than you’d think.”
Sabi Kang chuckled and closed his eyes. The past three days felt like three months.
“I need some rest.”
“Rest easy.”
Heuk-gwi’s voice reassured him from the void.
**
People called the old man “Old Man Cho.” In the Jeonggangsan area, nearly everyone knew of him, but few knew his past. Today, like any other day, Old Man Cho sat in his workshop, carving wood. He was crafting a farmer with a hoe, meticulously detailing each bead of sweat on the figure’s brow. His focus and skill were so extraordinary that they seemed almost magical to onlookers.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man entered.
“Old man, are you here?”
The voice was familiar, suggesting he was a regular visitor. Old Man Cho glanced up, recognizing the well-dressed man, indicating he came from a well-off family.
“What brings you here again?”
Old Man Cho asked gruffly, and the man laughed heartily.
“Don’t be so harsh, old man. I keep coming back because I love your work.”
As he spoke, the man couldn’t help but admire the sculptures scattered around the workshop. They were so intricately crafted that they could easily grace any home as a testament to their beauty. There were wooden sculptures, as well as those made of stone and metal, but wood was the predominant medium.
Old Man Cho spoke curtly.
“No matter how many times you come, the answer is no.”
“Who said anything?”
“No means no.”
“Alright, alright. Why so quick to shut me down?”
The middle-aged man clicked his tongue in disappointment and turned his gaze. His eyes landed on a particular sculpture, unique in that it was only crafted from the head to the chest. It was a curious piece. At first glance, it seemed masterfully made, yet upon closer inspection, something felt off. However, the man knew this was Old Man Cho’s masterpiece.
One glance wouldn’t reveal its true value. But after a second or third look, one would find themselves drawn into its depths. Unlike the other sculptures, this one evoked a myriad of emotions—hope and despair, love and hate, longing and regret.
The man, a collector of fine art, had been captivated by the sculpture’s complexity from the moment he first saw it. Yet, for some reason, Old Man Cho refused to sell it, no matter how much he was pressed. He wouldn’t explain why, only saying it wasn’t made to be sold.
Accepting there must be a story behind it, the man turned to leave.
“I’ll be back another time.”
“You sure are persistent.”
“Haha. But wouldn’t it be best for your work to be with someone who appreciates it?”
“Take something else.”
“I’ve already bought plenty. I just want that one. The ‘Statue of Sorrow and Joy.’”
Indeed, Old Man Cho had named it that. It seemed a fitting name.
“I appreciate your admiration for my work, but that piece isn’t for sale. Take care.”
“Let me know if you ever change your mind. I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
“I appreciate the sentiment.”
“You’re something else, old man.”
The middle-aged man chuckled and left the workshop. After some time, Old Man Cho paused his carving and gazed at the ‘Statue of Sorrow and Joy.’ It might look hastily made, but…
“Honestly, what’s so special about that thing…?”
With a complex and subtle expression, the old man glanced at the sculpture of a man and shook his head slightly before returning to his work.
How long had he been engrossed in his task?
The figure of a man holding a hoe, ready to tend the fields, was nearly complete.
It was then that he heard it.
“Is anyone there?”
A stranger’s voice called out from outside.
But it wasn’t coming from the front of the workshop; it was from the old, unused forge.
The old man, Mr. Cho, paused for a moment but then focused on finishing the sculpture. It must be a traveler who had mistakenly come looking for the blacksmith.
Yet, in the next moment, he found himself compelled to stop and stand up.
“Yeonggeum Shinsu, Cho Shin-ryang! Are you here?”
The booming shout made Mr. Cho rise with a hardened expression.
A nickname he had almost forgotten.
No, a nickname he had lived without for quite some time, and now someone was calling it out.
Frowning deeply, he stepped out of the workshop.
There, near the forge, stood five martial artists.
“Who are you people?” he demanded sharply.
One of them turned to him and replied, “Cho Shin-ryang. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Surprised by the man’s confident recognition, Mr. Cho responded coldly, “I asked who you are.”
“I’m Sabi-gang. I used to be the head of the Inspection Bureau of the Justice League, but now I’m an instructor with the Blood Alliance.”
‘What kind of nonsense is this? How could the head of the Justice League’s Inspection Bureau become an instructor for the Blood Alliance?’
Having been out of touch with the martial world for some time, Cho Shin-ryang found Sabi-gang’s words utterly absurd.
“If you’re here to pull some kind of scam, you’d better leave. The person you’re looking for isn’t here…”
“Is it because of the Ten Thousand Lives Sword?”
”…!”
Cho Shin-ryang’s expression visibly hardened.
He twitched his cheek and stared intently at Sabi-gang.
“You… who exactly are you?”
“I told you, didn’t I? I’m an instructor.”