The Returned Genius Blacksmith has Awakened as an all-Master - Chapter 5

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 5
005. Occupation Quest
The owner of the Smithy was a gruff, muscular NPC.
At first glance, the man reeked of sweat — this was Tu Ban.
Tu Ban swung his hammer with sweat streaming down his face, striking a chunk of metal glowing crimson-hot.
Clang—Thump—
Clang-clang-thump—
Thump—
The blows rang out with metronomic precision, each strike following the same steady rhythm.
Listening to that pleasant resonance, I watched Tu Ban’s hammering in silence.
‘Not a waver in sight.’
He must have sensed my presence, yet his concentration never wavered.
And Tu Ban’s technique was impressive too.
Despite his appearance, he wasn’t simply brute-forcing the hammer down.
He rotated from the shoulders and hips, channeling his weight with efficient, economical motion.
He timed each strike perfectly, catching the steel at its softest moment before it cooled.
It was the mastery of a craftsman whose body had been sculpted by hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of repetitions.
True, he couldn’t compare to the legendary blacksmiths I’d met during the Age of Ruin.
But in this small rural village, his skill was undeniably formidable.
‘I never saw this before.’
I had been here once, in the past.
I’d completed quests here and learned the basic crafting skills.
But back then, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know Tu Ban possessed such mastery.
Honestly, I’d never cared to look.
When I first played Lepion, like every other player, I was obsessed with learning skills fast and leveling up quicker than anyone else.
But the way I looked at Tu Ban then and the way I look at him now — they were completely different.
I could see things now that I couldn’t see then.
Clang—Thump—
Clang-clang-thump—
Thump—
After a long while, Tu Ban finished his first forging. He gripped the glowing-hot steel with tongs and plunged it into the cooling water.
Ssssshhhhiiiiiiing—!
Steam billowed up with a menacing, violent hiss.
Only then did Tu Ban notice me staring at him with undivided attention.
But beneath his unkempt beard, his expression was clearly displeased.
“What’re you doing here? This isn’t a playground for Outsiders! Don’t interrupt the sacred song of steel — get out, move along!”
The blacksmith’s voice boomed through the smithy, gravelly and commanding.
An ordinary player would’ve been cowed by that sheer pressure, backing away meekly.
It was a different form of intimidation than what Bark used.
But I opened my mouth with a quiet, steady voice.
“I want to become a blacksmith.”
At those bold words, Tu Ban stopped what he was doing entirely and looked me over from head to foot.
His eyes burned with naked suspicion and contempt.
I didn’t shrink under that gaze.
In truth, it was the ordinary reaction.
The NPCs of Lepion didn’t welcome Outsiders.
But this time seemed to have its own reasons.
Tu Ban tapped his rock-like forearms and spoke.
“Look here, kid. These are arms tempered in steel. But what’re those scrawny noodle-arms of yours? You think you can lift a hammer when the wind alone would snap them like twigs?”
Geum Son at level one.
Not yet conditioned in any way.
My strength was weak, and there was much I still lacked — exactly as Tu Ban said.
And Tu Ban was pointing out that weakness.
“This isn’t some romantic fantasy game for Outsiders! Smithing is a sacred battle against flame and fire, fought with bone and muscle and a will harder than steel itself! Now get out!”
Tu Ban had called smithing a battle.
I agreed with that.
For me, smithing was never just about making equipment.
It was my own desperate struggle, my fierce fight to escape the Age of Ruin.
But there was one thing I couldn’t agree with.
“It’s not made by muscle alone.”
“What? What could a pipsqueak like you possibly know——”
“Your spirit is absent. Without spirit woven into it, nothing of true worth emerges.”
Tu Ban’s mouth twitched upward, different from before.
For the first time, something other than contempt flickered in his eyes—a glimmer of intrigue.
Geum Son continued with measured calm.
“No matter how fiercely you strike, if you cannot read the grain of the steel, you merely dent a lump of iron. Without the craftsman’s spirit, you will not sense the soul of fire, and ultimately cannot awaken the soul of steel. Am I wrong?”
A provocative assertion.
Yet Geum Son harbored no intention of withdrawing it.
These were the words of Valerius, the legendary smith and one of Geum Son’s great masters from his past life—the one who had tempered souls themselves.
Tu Ban fell silent for a moment.
He began studying Geum Son anew.
There was something different, certainly.
Not like the other outsiders who poked about with clumsy curiosity.
But Tu Ban’s pride was not so easily wounded by some fumbling foreigner.
He snorted derisively, his expression growing even more spiteful.
“Ha! All mouth, then. Spirit? Awakening steel? Fine! We’ll see if that silver tongue of yours is backed by the skill to prove it!”
A message appeared.
It came a moment late, delayed by the sudden provocation, but what mattered was that it had begun.
[Would you like to begin the Blacksmith Occupation Tutorial?]
He accepted the quest silently.
Tu Ban then kicked an object from the corner of the smithy—something that looked all but ready for the scrap heap—and sent it sliding toward Geum Son.
It was a worn pickaxe with chipped teeth, rust creeping along its blade, and a wooden handle so badly cracked it seemed ready to crumble to dust.
“A blacksmith’s foundation rests on two pillars: the eye to recognize quality materials, and the persistence to prepare them. But more important still is the strength of will to see your intent through, no matter the circumstances. Do you agree?”
Geum Son nodded.
Tu Ban then gestured with his chin toward the weathered pickaxe.
“That pick is older than I am. It’s been dulled and worn through the hands of countless miners. Weak—just like those pathetic, muscle-starved arms of yours.”
Tu Ban spoke with mockery, deriding Geum Son’s lean, unmusculed frame.
His pride in his own musculature was clearly substantial.
“If you can extract usable iron ore with that pick—flawless, top-grade ore at that—just five of them, even just five, then I’ll reconsider your words. You can do it if you pour your soul into it, can’t you?”
Tu Ban seemed scratched by the mention of soul.
The conditions were more stringent than in memories of the past.
“If you don’t bring them before sunset, never set foot in my sacred smithy again!”
It was a cruelly demanding condition—the sort designed to make a beginner fail, or better yet, surrender entirely.
As Tu Ban finished speaking, another message appeared.
[Occupation Quest: Tu Ban’s Doubt]
– Objective: Tu Ban, Neman Village’s sole blacksmith, wishes to test the resolve of an apprentice. Prove your qualifications by passing his exacting trial.
– Success Condition: High-Grade Iron Ore Collection (0/5)
– You must respect the time limit.
– Advance Reward: Mining Skill
– Completion Rewards:
1. Blacksmith Occupation Acquired
2. Refining Skill Acquired
After reading the quest, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Geum Son’s mouth.
‘Demanding as it is, if I succeed…… I can acquire the Refining Skill immediately.’
Perhaps because of the provocation, one additional reward had been added.
In his past life, it took far longer—years of apprenticeship under Tu Ban, learning fundamentals—before the Refining Skill was granted.
But this time was different.
Much like with Bark.
Moreover, looking at the quest details, this wasn’t simply a malicious challenge.
The fact that it offered the Mining Skill as an advance reward made that clear.
Had Tu Ban meant to truly torment him, he would never grant such a skill upfront.
This was Tu Ban’s way of testing an applicant’s true resolve—a gateway of his own design.
Geum Son bowed without hesitation and picked up the weathered pickaxe.
The touch against his palm was rough and precarious.
Yet within it, Geum Son felt the traces and stories of countless years.
Not a terrible tool, after all.
Fragile though it was, the pickaxe bore the unmistakable weight of long, faithful service.
‘This will do.’
Geum Son bowed silently to Tu Ban and departed the smithy without a word.
Behind him, Tu Ban’s gaze followed—a complex tangle of suspicion and anticipation.
Clang—thud—
Clang-clang—
Thud—
With Geum Son gone, the Smithy once again rang only with the bright percussion of metal striking metal.
He waited for the customer—or rather, the Outsider—who might or might not return.
* * *
Geum Son took the worn Pickaxe Tu Ban had thrown him and headed straight for the Mine.
The moment he stepped into the dark, damp cavern, he spotted low-level Cobolds emerging from the stale air.
Small monsters, roughly the height of an ordinary person’s thigh.
A handful of them rushed at him from the darkness, wielding chipped and crude daggers.
Shreeeek!
In an ordinary game, no player would fear Cobolds.
They’d strike them without hesitation.
They were nothing but moving straw men, dispensing experience and loot.
But Lepion was different.
The realism was so extreme it blurred the line between fantasy and truth.
And that realism became poison, severing the player’s grip on reason.
‘Damn ugly things,’ he thought.
The Cobolds revealed themselves in the darkness.
Their skin bore no sheen—only stiff, coarse hair sprouting in sparse tufts across their hides.
Their bloodshot eyes blazed with pure madness untouched by reason, and foul-smelling drool dripped from their gaping maws.
Such horrific creatures.
Mad with the intent to kill, they shrieked and charged.
Few could face such a sight unmoved.
Without exceptional courage, victory in that first battle seemed nearly impossible beneath such overwhelming dread.
Most would flee screaming or freeze in terror, offering no resistance at all.
But Geum Son was different.
His eyes did not waver.
They had grown cold and still.
In his previous life, he had faced horrors far worse than this, countless times.
Cobolds, to him?
They were merely cute tricks—Lepion was still just a game, after all.
And there was something else that had changed.
‘Is this…Resolute Intuition?’
Clear red marks appeared on the heads, hearts, and necks of the charging Cobolds.
Like the red targets that had been marked on the training dummy.
The Resolute Intuition that Bark had taught him had activated.
Geum Son sidestepped the first Cobold’s strike and swung the Pickaxe without hesitation.
Whoosh—
The Pickaxe traced a smooth arc.
Its sharp point struck the red mark on the Cobold’s head with perfect precision.
Crack!

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————