Three Years of Blacksmithing, Achieving Divine Martial Arts - Chapter 14

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 14. The Weight of a Name Called Superior Mastery
So Cheol’s first day at Jang Shim-dang was longer on explanation than on hammering.
Son Cheol-shim handed So Cheol

a glowing chunk of refined iron. The work wasn’t to shape it, but to draw out impurities again and spread the grain evenly.
It was something he’d done countless times at Oemun.
Yet Son Cheol-shim stopped him at the very first swing of the hammer.

“Your strength is too far ahead.”
“But I wasn’t even striking hard.”
“That’s precisely the problem.”

Son Cheol-shim took the hammer from So Cheol’s hands.

“What doesn’t seem strong by your measure isn’t weak by the iron’s measure either.”

He flipped the heated metal over once.

“Your body has grown much stronger these past few days. If you strike with the same touch you learned at Oemun, the iron will break first.”

So Cheol fell silent.
It was accurate.
Since gaining the Direct Transmission Mark and a second source of funds, his physical strength had increased dramatically. Learning the Soo Ryong Yu Yeong Beop had changed the way his body moved as well.
Even in Dan Jo, he would have to relearn strength.
Son Cheol-shim brought the hammer down lightly.
Tap.
The sound was small.
Yet the surface of the heated iron spread evenly.

“Anyone can strike hard.”

The second hammer fell.
Tap.

“The difficulty is striking exactly as much as needed.”

So Cheol didn’t take his eyes away.
Third strike.
Fourth.
The force seemed identical, yet the iron moved differently each time.
The angle of the wrist and the impact point varied.

“Again.”

So Cheol took the hammer.
This time he reduced his strength.
Tap.

“Too much reduction.”

Again.

Tap!

“A bit better.”

Son Cheol-shim continued to stop him after that.
At Oemun, a day well spent was one where you worked all day without taking an insult.
At Jang Shim-dang, he received over ten corrections while working just one chunk of iron.
So Cheol found, oddly enough, that he wasn’t in a foul mood.
It was actually easier when someone told him immediately what he’d done wrong.
After about an hour, the sound of the hammer had grown steadier than before.
Son Cheol-shim nodded.

“You know how to use your head.”

So Shim-hwan, who had been holding the dark iron nearby, cut in.

“Master, is that the only way you know how to praise someone?”
“Aren’t you still serving your punishment?”
“I thought it was finished.”
“Start over.”

So Shim-hwan’s face went rigid.
Laughter erupted from various corners of Jang Shim-dang.
* * *
After midday, Son Cheol-shim called So Cheol away separately.
So Shim-hwan followed behind.

“You come too.”

Son Cheol-shim pointed at So Shim-hwan with one finger.

“While you’re listening to me teach the youngest, remember that you’re the senior disciple.”

So Shim-hwan cupped his fist most respectfully.

“This disciple was born a paragon of Jang Shim-dang.”
“Did I birth you?”
“You birthed me in spirit.”

Son Cheol-shim drew in a deep breath.
So Cheol stepped two paces back from So Shim-hwan.
Soon Son Cheol-shim’s hand rose and fell.

“That’s enough. If I keep beating you, I’ll lose the whole lesson.”

The three moved to a small training grounds behind Jang Shim-dang.
Son Cheol-shim asked first.

“Do you know what rank you are now?”

So Cheol paused to consider.
He couldn’t speak openly about his concealed state.

“It seems I’ve entered the upper reaches of the First Rank.”
“Don’t speak in riddles.”

Son Cheol-shim let out a low snort.

“I saw your Ki-hyeol during the test. It’s grown even since then.”

So Cheol’s heart gave a small leap.
Fortunately, he asked nothing more.

“The martial path is divided into nine ranks.”

Son Cheol-shim held up one finger.

“First Rank is when you gather Ki-hyeol to strengthen your body. A time when you eat, sleep, and train—transforming Pure Blood into Ki-hyeol.”

The second finger.

“Grade 2 is Bone Tempering. The stage where you hone your skeleton one bone at a time using Ki-hyeol. A person’s bones don’t turn to iron overnight. Push too hard and you damage the body first.”

The third.

“Grade 3 is Inner Force. You plant a seed within your Lower Dantian and wield a power different from Ki-hyeol.”

So Cheol leaned in to listen.
Now he understood a little why Son Cheol-shim, Wang San, and Yang Jeong-cheon had each exuded such different pressure in the testing grounds.

“Gwak Geo is Grade 3.”

Son Cheol-shim said it simply.

“And him?”

He gestured backward with his thumb toward So Shim-hwan.

“Grade 2, peak. He’ll reach Grade 3 before long. If he’d cut down his sleeping hours in taverns, he might already be there.”

So Shim-hwan muttered something in protest.

“A person needs rest to last long.”
“You rest too much.”

Son Cheol-shim turned his attention back to So Cheol.

“Don’t think speed is always good. Especially from Grade 2 onward—it’s all bone. If it breaks, even when you mend it, it might never be quite the same.”

So Cheol nodded.
Inwardly, he confirmed once more that he had entered the peak of Grade 1. Grade 2 was not far away now. That made this warning all the more worth remembering.

Son Cheol-shim’s instruction didn’t end with martial skill.

“And since you’re a member of Jang Shim-dang, you need to know this too.”

He drew a small Dan-do from his waist and laid it on the ground.

“A blade forged by an ordinary blacksmith and a weapon crafted by a martial master are not the same.”
“An Ordinary Weapon, then?”

Son Cheol-shim’s eyes shifted slightly.

“You know that term?”

He couldn’t say he’d seen it in the Direct Transmission Mark memory.

“I heard it mentioned in passing at Nae Mu-dang.”
“I see. Martial weapons fall into three broad categories: Ordinary Weapon, Superior Weapon, and Transcendent Weapon.”

Accordingly, craftsmen were divided into three ranks as well: Ordinary Craftsman, Superior Craftsman, and Transcendent Craftsman.
It wasn’t merely a compliment about skill. The criterion was what grade of weapon a craftsman could actually produce.
Son Cheol-shim stood near the end of the Ordinary Craftsman rank.
They said it was difficult to find a Superior Craftsman better than him in Nohyeon.

Yet even so, he had not crossed the threshold into Superior Mastery.
So Cheol found this puzzling.

“Your martial skill reached the pinnacle of third rank, didn’t you say?”
“That’s right.”
“Both Dan Jo and martial skill are blocked at the same point?”

Son Cheol-shim laughed briefly, then sighed.

“Your intuition is sharp in odd ways.”

So Shim-hwan spoke from beside him.

“Our master isn’t blocked for lack of ability.”

Son Cheol-shim glared at him, but this time did not silence him.

“To ascend from third rank to fourth, one must open the meridians. But that path doesn’t open to just anyone who latches onto an Ordinary Mastery practitioner.”

So Cheol asked:

“Are there levels above Ordinary Mastery?”
“There are.”

Son Cheol-shim answered.

“Ordinary Mastery, Superior Mastery, Transcendent Mastery.”

In that instant, a chill ran down So Cheol’s spine.
The characters he had seen in his room last night suddenly came back to him.
Soo Ryong Yu Yeong Beop.
Superior Mastery, Second Rank.
Son Cheol-shim continued without noticing the change in So Cheol’s expression.

“From Superior Mastery onward, it is not merely superior technique. The path for ascending to fourth rank through Meridian Opening is embedded within it.”
“Then if your master had just one Superior Mastery, couldn’t he reach fourth rank?”
“Ha.”

Son Cheol-shim laughed bitterly.

“If Superior Masteries rolled around that freely, would I be standing here striking anvils?”

So Shim-hwan crossed his arms.

“There would be a line of places wanting to employ someone of our master’s caliber, even if he went to Tang Bu. Yet he remains at Jang Shim-dang—that’s the problem.”
“Don’t talk needlessly.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

Son Cheol-shim did not answer.
His silence was answer enough.
So Cheol’s thoughts had already wandered elsewhere.
Last night, he had retrieved that precious Superior Mastery from the sole of his shoe.
It had not belonged to Hwang Tae-gon.
The remnants of Gwang Sa-bang had entrusted it, and behind them stood someone else—someone referred to only as “that person.”
If even Son Cheol-shim, who had reached the pinnacle of third rank, found his path blocked by a single Superior Mastery, it was easy to imagine how relentlessly whoever sought this object would pursue it.

‘I must hide it more carefully.’

It was true that Son Cheol-shim treated him well.
Gwak Geo was trustworthy too, and So Shim-hwan, for all his loose tongue, seemed to harbor no malice.
Still, they had only known each other for a few days.
Superior Mastery was too valuable a thing to gamble with on testing someone’s heart.
Better to wait until he’d climbed to at least third-grade rank, until he at least had the strength to run if he needed to—then judge.

“So Cheol.”

At Son Cheol-shim’s call, he drew his thoughts back.

“Yes, Master.”
“Why are you standing there glazed over?”
“I was just surprised how remarkable Superior Mastery really is.”
“That’s fair enough.”

Son Cheol-shim laughed.

“Still, don’t go mooning over Superior Mastery from the start. First finish properly the Jin San Gong you’ve already got in your hands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

This time, he meant it sincerely.
* * *
Late in the afternoon, Gwak Geo returned from Nae Mu-dang.
In his hands was a heavy bundle.

“Youngest, here’s your share for this month.”

Fifteen taels of silver.
Four sets of Yak-yok-san.
Twenty Ki-hyeol-dan pills.
As they were laid out one by one on the table, So Cheol fell silent for a long moment.
It felt different from the entrance celebration gift.
This was the money and medicine that Cheol-jang-bang gave him monthly, urging him to train.

“Do I use all of this myself?”

So Shim-hwan laughed from beside him.

“If you don’t, give it to me.”

Gwak Geo rapped him on the back of the hand.

“You’ve got your own share.”
“I’m trying to help manage it as your senior.”
“If you manage it, it just becomes drinking money.”

While the two of them bickered, So Cheol lifted a single Ki-hyeol-dan pill onto his palm.
Just days ago, his family had begged him not to sell even a small piece of crocodile meat, treasuring it so.
Here, medicine came regularly on its own.
Where there was strength, money gathered; where there was money, resources to build more strength accumulated.
He was seeing that difference firsthand.
That evening, the people of Jang Shim-dang gathered to eat together.
Three large iron pots were emptied clean, and platters of meat never stopped arriving fresh.
Gwak Geo ate nearly ten bowls of rice and still asked for more broth.
So Shim-hwan too, despite his lean frame, piled meat like a mountain on his plate.
So Cheol was no different.
After eating for a while, one of the disciples across from him laughed.

“We’ve got ourselves another rice barrel in the hall.”
“Someone doing Jin San Gong who doesn’t eat much—that’s the real sickness.”

Gwak Geo answered with perfect seriousness.
Laughter burst from him.
So Cheol joined in, his shoulders shaking.
It was only last night that he’d killed a man in Hwang Tae-gon’s guest quarters.
The unease of hiding the Superior Mastery hadn’t vanished either.
Yet sitting before steaming rice, listening to his senior brothers chatter, he felt his shoulders relax just slightly.
After the meal ended, he used the herb bath for the first time.
In a small room at the back of the Jang Shim-dang compound, a wooden tub sat large enough for one person to fit comfortably. Once a servant filled it with hot water and withdrew, So Cheol unwrapped the packet of medicinal bath herbs he’d been given.
Brown powder dispersed through the water, releasing the scent of medicine.
As he sank into it, the heat was overwhelming at first. Moments later, a gentle warmth began to seep beneath his skin. His shoulders and lower back, stiffened by a night of training and hours of swinging hammers at Jang Shim-dang, gradually loosened.
So Cheol leaned his head against the rim of the tub.
In Fishing Village, he couldn’t have used even one tub of hot water freely. Firewood went to cooking first, and in winter, bathing often meant a trip to the river.
Now, simply because he was studying martial arts, hot water infused with medicine was prepared for him.
The Ki-hyeol-dan pill was no different.
Swallowing the medicinal tablet in the water, warmth spread through his lower belly. Overlapping with the heat of the herb bath, he could clearly feel his Ki-hyeol—depleted throughout the day—replenishing itself.

‘So this is how the gap widens.’

Two people with identical bone structure—one might scrimp on a single meal, while the other ate meat and pills every day. They couldn’t possibly grow strong at the same pace.
Between the Outer Gate and Inner Gate, there was more than just a wall.
Money and food, medicine, a teacher to instruct them, senior brothers to train with—everything was different.
The weight of that reality settled over him anew.
So Cheol clenched and unclenched his fists in the water.
He had crossed into that inner world now.
So he would use this opportunity.
Whoever stood behind Hwang Tae-gon, whatever remnants of Gwang Sa-bang were plotting—he didn’t need answers today.
He couldn’t solve all dangers at once.
But he could be stronger tomorrow than he was today.
That was what he needed to do now.
When he returned to his room after the herb bath, his body still radiated heat.
So Cheol arranged the Ki-hyeol-dan pills and remaining medicinal bath herbs neatly on the table. He set the silver coins aside in a bronze pot. Later, he’d need to separate out what to send home and what he’d need for living expenses going forward.
His tasks had only multiplied.
During the day, he’d learn the Dan Jo technique at Jang Shim-dang. At night, he’d practice the Soo Ryong Yu Yeong Beop and Jin San Gong. Whenever there was a moment, he’d visit home to check on So Won’s wound.
And the Superior Mastery that had come from Hwang Tae-gon—no one could see it.
So Cheol arranged these four things in his mind and lay down on his bed.
Right up until he closed his eyes, he saw the piece of iron waiting on the forge at Jang Shim-dang tomorrow. He recalled the angle of the hammer that Son Cheol-shim had corrected him on during the day.
Just weeks ago, he’d worried about what he’d eat today and the price of materials for his next work. Now he could spend his hours thinking of where best to invest them.
Sleep came very quickly after that.

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