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Originally, he was not a person who would fit into the Orthodox Faction.
-Hmm.
Ever since leaving the cave, Viper had been wandering the world.
Beautiful places known for their scenic beauty. Impressive landscapes. Hidden gems.
He visited places where waterfalls cascaded from the heavens, sitting alone on rocks to endure the force of the waterfalls, and climbed to the highest places, closest to the sky, gazing endlessly at the world spread out below for days on end.
-This isn't it?
He felt no particular emotion.
The [self] that had settled in his heart showed no reaction.
Viper scratched the back of his head, recalling the advice of Namgung Woon, the Head of the Martial Alliance.
-It's spoiled. Completely spoiled. The Orthodox Faction is about capturing nature in the sword, but no matter how beautiful and pretty things I see, I don't feel any emotion. I would rather watch people commuting in the city, even that touches my heart more.
The majestic force of the waterfall.
The vastness of the world spread out beneath the mountain peak.
The frightening lightning and torrential rain.
-This is not appealing at all. Like, oh wow, it's amazing! I’m so glad to be the Orthodox Faction leader! ……There is no feeling at all.
None of it captivated his [self].
-Ah, maybe I should have joined the Demonic Cult instead? King of Death is just lucky. Why did he have to match up with a master so perfectly suited for him? Damn...
Day 407 after leaving seclusion.
The [self] lurking in his heart was still speaking only of jealousy, lament, and sighs. A black mass. Murky and sticky, he could feel its outline clearly. Viper moved on, feeling its presence.
Clang!
The sound from the marketplace initially went unnoticed by Viper.
His senses, honed from years of training, detected the metallic sound. Although his body reacted, the [self] entrenched deep within him remained indifferent.
Clang!
He was currently in Guru, the homeland of the Earth Spirit Tribe. Viper occasionally visited Guru to watch the Blood Fire Dramas, wondering if it would provide insights on how to defeat King of Death.
As a result, Viper could recite all 11 lines that Kekerkker used to confess to Raviel with his eyes closed. He sometimes wondered why those guys acted so absurdly, but then realized that the one being most absurd was his [self].
Clang!
And slowly.
Clang!
The [self] coiled up in his head raised its head.
All sorts of smells and scents from the streets were detected. Shhik. Shhuk. Among them was a sharp and fishy smell. The [self] sniffed around, searching for its source.
Clang!
It was a blacksmith's forge.
Located a couple of blocks from the city center, the area was less populated. Minor theater troupes huddled together here, and Asuras with slightly tight purses lingered around.
Clang!
The blacksmith's forge stood somewhat isolated.
It was more like slowly sinking than standing. The roof was partially broken. The pillars were decayed. Some had already lost their balance, pushing the roof dangerously to one side.
A place that would vanish with a strong gust of wind.
Clang!
A muscular blacksmith was swinging his hammer there. Clang! The red-hot metal spat sparks when struck, and Clang! It bent slightly each time.
There was no remarkable skill.
No eye-catching performances.
-Hey, Master.
Just.
-You have an interesting way of hammering, huh?
-Oho.
The blacksmith wiped his face with a towel. Approaching closer, Viper realized he was actually quite small. Not just compared to the Ghost Tribe, but even smaller than the average Earth Spirit. The blacksmith, barely reaching his own waist, was…
-What do you need, sir? Are you a guest from the Ghost Tribe? We don't make weapons, just so you know.
-Eh? Why not? Weapons are the pride of the Earth Spirit Tribe's blacksmith industry. Especially swords. Earth Spirit Tribe gives a sword as a gift when their kids come of age, and if it wears out within a year, they gift a new one. It's a joyful tradition.
-Ah...
The elf blacksmith finished wiping off his sweat.
He looked somewhat indifferent.
-It's nice that you treat minority races well and without prejudice, but... including that, it's just too much. You know what I mean, right? It's just over the top.
-Ah, totally.
Despite being strangers, they quickly found common ground, nodding vigorously.
-So annoying.
-Yes, really annoying.
Their nodding synchronized perfectly.
One was an elf blacksmith running a shabby forge despite his livelihood, and the other was a human Hunter traveling around while possessing a Ghost Tribe member. For a moment, they were united in spirit despite their dark pasts and murky insides.
-Nice to meet an understanding customer. So, what would you like? I'll give you a discount.
-Ah.
Viper then remembered his original purpose for coming here.
His pitch-black heart urged him to hurry up and speak.
-Not really here to buy anything, I was just curious.
-Hmm?
-Don't worry, I'm not suspicious. Anyway, I was just passing by and heard you hammering. The sound was incredibly regular. I thought it was just ordinary hammering, but the interval and strength of each Clang, Clang, were exactly the same.
Indeed.
Without even a 0.1 second discrepancy, the hammering sound continued rhythmically.
To an ordinary person, it might seem like just regular hammering, but Viper, a superhuman, easily noticed the anomaly in the blacksmith's work.
-Could it be? This shabby forge actually houses a great...
-Ah, please don't sit on that chair. It's so shaky I had to fix it to the floor, but even the floor's shaky. If you sit there for more than 15 seconds, you'll fall right through. It could handle me for 15 seconds, but with you, it'll collapse immediately.
-…a great master with incredible skills, or something? Like some S-rank extraordinary fate?
Viper was excited.
His heart, along with the [self] making nonsense noises inside, was throbbing.
Viper always preferred 'this kind of thing' over beautiful nature or magnificent landscapes. Like something seemingly ordinary actually being extraordinary. Hidden power. Hidden status. Hidden settings. Hidden conspiracies. Hidden worlds. His heart always raced for these 'stories'.
-Uh...
The elf blacksmith felt uncomfortable under the intensely curious gaze.
-S-rank? I don't know what you're talking about, but our we’re nothing special...
-But you actually have a hidden past and a special talent, right?
-I was just born into an ordinary family and started blacksmithing when our fortunes fell. Sir. I have no talent. Born with internal muscles like an average Fairy Tribe member, how could I compete with Asuras with their incredible muscles in blacksmithing...?
-Ah, that's obviously a lie.
-......
-Really?
-There's no benefit in lying to a customer for a little money.
-......
-If you're not going to order anything, please leave. You're hindering my work.
-......
It seemed to be true.
Viper muttered to himself, "Strange, strange," while pacing around the blacksmith. The elf blacksmith sighed, "Such bad luck," but eventually ignored Viper and continued hammering.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
-......
Watching the hammering from a distance, Viper suddenly spoke.
-It's the same, right?
From Viper's perspective, only the blacksmith's back, the small figure of the elf, was visible. The well-developed back muscles, balanced shoulder muscles, and arm muscles tirelessly moved, working.
-What, aren’t you going?
-The rhythm. The interval. The force. It’s all the same. There's no discrepancy in the hammering. If you extended your sense of time with aura, you could easily mimic it, but there's clearly no aura. So, doing it by sense...
-Huuk. Hoo...
Viper frowned.
If the elf blacksmith in front of him had not become a blacksmith but walked the path of martial arts and mastered aura, he might have been a fine warrior.
-Impressive, but what's the meaning? Why insist on such hammering?
The elf blacksmith spoke without turning around.
-It makes it a bit more fun.
Viper narrowed his eyes.
-Fun?
-Yes. It's work. Blacksmith work.
Clang!
-Do you know how hard this is? Customers take these home, use them comfortably for cutting, chopping, hammering nails... It's easy to use, but hard to make. If it were just a hobby, maybe, but this is…
Clang!
-My profession. Haa...
-......
-Damn, I really don't want to work.
Clang!
-It's so hard...
Clang!
-I'm dying.
Clang!
-I want to die...
Clang!
-I'm dying!
Clang!
As the blacksmithing continued, the elf blacksmith's curses grew harsher. It seemed like he was cursing at someone, but mostly, it seemed he was cursing at himself.
Viper was speechless. Despite the sharp sound of hammering, this forge was noisier than any workshop in the city.
-Ah, I see. With such curses flying, no wonder no customers come. You cleverly time your hammering to swear then. The sound of the hammer masks the curses, so they go unheard.
Viper realized.
-...Are you insane?
-Sir, you've been quite a disturbance. It's about time you left.
Indeed, the races living in the city created by the King of Death, regardless of their race, seemed to be quite peculiar. Acknowledging this, Viper said,
-So it's fun for you. Your expression doesn't look fun, but are you really enjoying this?
-Of course. This has its own charm.
The blacksmith wiped his face with a handkerchief.
-Work is originally hard. Hardness is natural. Especially for my race, I wasn't born suited for this job. I have no talent. But working made me curse, didn't it?
-Well...
-If there's absolutely no joy in work. Absolutely none, I'd really feel like dying.
Clang!
-So, I find just enough fun to avoid dying.
Clang!
-My colleagues go out on weekends for recreation, rest, go to the new sauna to relax. They talk about how amazing the delayed Blood Flower Play was, and they find their own ways to relax. I don't get it.
Clang!
-When I see tall mountains, I think, why are you so tall and I'm so small, are you picking a fight with me? Even when I visit famous mountains, I feel disconnected and indifferent. Ah, this, working feels like I'm going to die... like I'm actually dying. The deathly energy doesn't go away. It doesn't disappear.
Clang!
-I'm dying.
Clang!
-But, I can't die, so...
Clang!
-I find tiny bits of fun in my work. The Ghost Tribe customer praised me like it was something great, but... I'm just trying to survive. Look. Clang! See? Clang! It's fun to keep the same rhythm. It's like unfinished music. Clang! Isn't it?
Finally, the blacksmith turned around.
The elf was smiling broadly.
With a face red from the forge and smeared with soot.
-It’s fun, right?
-......
At that moment.
-Ah, it's quite a challenge, you know. To keep matching the moment. It really ignites my competitive spirit. Like I'm the only one playing this game.
Viper.
The [self] he harbored in his heart realized something.
Someone who had already awakened to who he was, saw more awakening in a small blacksmith.
-The rules of the game are there too. When it rains, I go a bit slower.
What he finds beautiful.
What he finds natural.
What he wants to capture in his sword until his arms move and his blood pulses.
The Master of the Celestial Martial Guild understood.
-When fog rolls in, I hammer even slower to make it audible. Why? When the clang, clang, of the hammer resonates through a foggy city, isn't it poetic? The city seems to cry. The fog seems to cry. It's somewhat fun. It’s cool. I find such things more interesting than famous mountains or scenic spots.
It wasn't the screaming populace.
Not humans clawing at their starving chests.
Not when the wounded heal and laugh among others with similar scars—the air filled with that laughter wasn't close enough.
-Well, this much should keep me alive.
Those who endure.
-Though I want to die.
Those who find joy to endure.
-I can live.
That happiness.
The fleeting joy that can't even be called happiness.
Enduring every day, breaking a part of themselves just to keep going.
Murmuring to themselves they feel like dying, sighing, smiling broadly.
Willpower.
The desire to survive.
-......
Viper slowly nodded.
-...That’s right.
It was easy to belittle that happiness as mere escapism. It never permanently solved problems, you're not becoming happy, you're just delaying happiness, and thus, you should find your true self, throw yourself into your real talents - such advice was easy to give.
Saying something is wrong with your life was very easy.
-It seems quite fun.
But.
What does it matter?
-May I give it a try?
No matter how trivial the happiness, it is a grain of happiness.
Even if it's a smile that briefly stays and then fades away, it is a smile.
Something that definitely existed, exists, and will exist in this world.
A proof of being alive and wanting to live.
-Eh. You, sir?
-I’m a Ghost Tribe member, aren't I? I’m good at using strength.
-It's not just about strength...
-Ah, just let me give it a try. I have a lot of money. I'll leave my purse here, if something goes wrong, let the craftsmen use it as they see fit.
Everyone works.
Everyone works painfully.
Everyone finds joy in enduring their pain.
Therefore, this happiness, even if not here and now, will unfold anytime, anywhere, irrespective of time and place, and can surely envelop the world as a sky rivaling the Demonic Heaven.
-Ussa!
Viper, shirtless, firmly gripped the hammer.
-Okay! Let's give this a try!
Being too far from nature's landscapes to sing its praises. Lacking confidence to capture the laughter of children spreading through a wheat field in a sword.
But the happiness of ordinary people.
Just putting in a little more effort, struggling a bit more, and being slightly happy, yet so painfully tough that without that bit of happiness, you'd die immediately. Making plans, thinking hard, implementing them, and laughing out loud with joy, if it's that kind of happiness.
-It's my first time at a forge! But I can do it! Aja!
He could capture it in my sword.
He wanted to capture it.
Viper knew that the beauty, the resonance in his heart, the landscape he wanted to show the world, the righteousness he had long searched for, was right here.
-After all, what I have in abundance is time!
Clang!
The sound of metal rang out.
Clang!
The sound of metal rang out.
Clang!
The sound of...
Clang!
Rang out.
Clang!
Rang out.
Clang!
Rang out.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!