Three Years of Blacksmithing, Achieving Divine Martial Arts - Chapter 26

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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 26. Leave Only the Traces That Must Remain
The rain showed no sign of stopping.
So Cheol turned his back on Hwang Won’s corpse, sprawled face-down on the riverbank, and slipped back into the water. After treading for an hour and a half, his arms and shoulders had grown heavy, but there was work that had to be finished before nightfall.

The riverbed scattered bodies of the Wang San Estate’s fighters. Some had sunk near the wreckage of the shattered boat; others had been carried downstream by the current. So Cheol found each one, seized it by the waist, and dragged it to the shore.

When he hauled up the twelfth corpse, his breathing had grown ragged.
So Cheol crouched in the downpour, rain streaming down his face, and surveyed the dead. In the thick of a fight, there had been no room for restraint.
Most bore the puncture wounds of the Hyeon Su Gang-cha, but not all. One had taken the O Sip to the skull atop the boat; another had been split across neck and chest by Hwang Tae Gon’s blade.
If found like this, the evidence would be far too abundant.
The Hyeon Su Gang-cha marks could be traced back to Gwang Sa-bang. But the Yeol Seok Chui-beop and the Sal Ho Cham Shin-do—those were signatures pointing to Cheoljang-bang.
So Cheol stepped before the corpse struck by the hammer.
He pressed a finger against the concave wound at the temple, then drew out the O Sip.

“Forgive me. I’ll need to strike you again.”

He spoke to ears that would never hear, and brought the hammer down.

Thud.

Head and shoulder crumpled together. He used only enough force to make it impossible to determine from which direction or by which weapon the original blow had come.
Next was the corpse carved by the blade. The long gash stood out far more than the hammer strike. So Cheol drew the Hyeon Su Gang-cha and drove it deep into the flesh around the wound, twisting viciously. As the prong wounds layered over the blade-cut, the original shape dissolved away.
Body by body, he moved on. Rain continued to wash blood and earth downstream.
So Cheol did not hurry. Wherever his own eye caught something strange, he returned and reworked it. He harbored no illusions of perfect deception—but all that mattered was that the first weapon anyone thought of, seeing these bodies, would be one: the Hyeon Su Gang-cha.
The Hyeon Su Gang-cha. Gwang Sa-bang’s weapon.
By the time he had checked the last body, more than half a watch had already passed.
So Cheol straightened and exhaled deeply.

“Cleaning up takes longer than killing.”

No laughter came.
Once was enough of that experience.
Then he gathered the spoils. Hunting down even the blade he’d lost in the water, he counted thirteen swords total. Twelve were similar-grade, 4th-rank battle blades. Only the one Hwang Won had wielded stood apart.
Bronze bronze glinted across its dark-red blade.
The Tiger’s Roar Blade.

A 3rd-rank battle blade.
So Cheol confirmed only the name and rank, then placed the sword in the bronze cauldron. What he needed now was not to admire a new weapon, but to leave no traces.
He checked the blades of the corpses in turn. Fifteen taels of gold and three hundred fifty taels of silver—the sum that thirteen men, including Hwang Won, had carried out.
It was no small amount, but So Cheol did not, as he once might have, immediately begin calculating the cost of Seon Gyu materials.
The materials alone for opening the fourth Seon Gyu had been considerable. If there was a next time, costs would likely climb even higher, and he could not simply keep buying hundreds of catties of metal from the Nae Mu-dang.

‘Move all at once, and you draw attention.’

Gathering materials meant controlling his pace now.
Once he had packed everything into the bronze cauldron, So Cheol moved the bodies back into the river’s deep channels. They would not surface at once, but they could not stay hidden forever.
He had no need for them to.
They had to be found.
Wang San knew where Hwang Won and his twelve fighters had gone. If they all vanished, he would eventually send people to search.
When they did, what they would find was the marks of Gwang Sa-bang’s triple-prong spear, and thirteen corpses dead in the So Gang.
So Cheol climbed out of the water above the last body. Beneath the old wooden bridge, only fragments of the shattered boat remained. He pushed the larger pieces downstream and drove the blood-soaked planks deep into the river mud.

The rain continued.

Today, at least, the rain felt like a kindness.
* * *
By the time So Cheol returned to Nohyeon, night had deepened.
Light seeped from beneath the gate of the new house.
Before So Cheol could grasp the door handle, the bar inside shifted.

“Who is it?”

It was So Won’s voice.

“It’s me.”

The door opened at once.
So Won’s eyes swept quickly over So Cheol’s face, shoulders, and arms. Behind her, Im Ha emerged with a lamp in hand.

“Why are you so late?”
“The work took longer than expected.”
“I can see that. Did you fall in the water?”

His outer robe was soaked with rain, but the dampness that clung to every strand of his hair was impossible to hide.
So Cheol smiled.

“I went down to the river on a rainy day, so it comes to much the same thing.”

Im Ha immediately seized his arm and pulled him inside.

“Let me see where you’re hurt.”
“There’s nowhere.”
“If you say there’s nowhere, I trust you even less.”
“Truly nowhere. Only a bruise or two, that’s all.”

Only after he rolled up his sleeves and showed them both that his ribs were unmarred did their faces ease a little. So Won clicked her tongue and closed the gate behind them.

“Ever since you became a martial artist, you come home later than before.”
“Uncle also came back late when he went out to the river, didn’t he?”
“I went fishing.”

So Cheol paused, then replied.

“I brought back quite a harvest today as well.”
“Fish?”
“No, not that.”

So Won’s interest faded at once. Im Ha said she would warm some water and left for the kitchen. Only when So Cheol watched her go did his rigid shoulders drop slightly.
Removing the two of them from the fishing village had been the right call.
With Hwang Won gone, there was no telling when Wang San might involve himself directly in the investigation. At least now the two of them were right beside Son Cheol Shim’s house.
So Cheol locked the door behind him as he entered his room.
Inside the bronze cauldron lay thirteen Dao, neatly arranged. Gold and silver were heaped separately beside them.
And in one corner of the fourth Seon Gyu, the blood-red orb still shimmered, wreathed in five-colored light.
Ten drops of his own vital blood.
Four days had passed, and yet the blood refinement was still not complete.
After the fourth Seon Gyu opened, a fifth condition appeared. So Cheol scanned the materials list, then quickly looked away. The cost had risen several times over. Even if he gathered materials from within Cheoljang-bang, he would need to prepare for several thousand taels.
Adding the gold and silver he’d obtained today fell far short. Even if money materialized at once, purchasing so many metals at the Nae Mu-dang would raise questions immediately.

‘Money alone won’t suffice.’

There was no rush for now.
So Cheol looked again at the blood-red orb undergoing refinement.

“I wish I could’ve used it today. Would’ve made things easier.”

There was no use regretting what couldn’t be. He had no intention of testing an unfamiliar technique in a fight where lives hung in the balance.
After changing clothes and lying on the bed, his entire body grew heavy at last.
Before closing his eyes, Hwang Won’s face flickered briefly in his mind.
Hwang Won was dead.
All twelve who had come with him were dead as well.
The person who might have reported directly to Wang San about the clash between the So family and Hwang Tae Gon was gone.
Time had been bought.
How much, he didn’t yet know.
He could verify that starting tomorrow.
So Cheol fell asleep as he was.
* * *
Before So Cheol even stepped into Jang Shim-dang the next morning, he heard the talk about Hwang Won.

“Thirteen of them died all at once, they say.”
“Hwang Won too?”
“That’s the real problem. He was 3rd-rank, after all.”

Three inner sect disciples stood clustered near a work table by the entrance—the sort who would have grabbed their hammers before Son Cheol Shim could spot them on any other day.
So Cheol passed beside them without breaking stride.

“Who did it, they say?”

One of them lowered his voice as if he’d been waiting for the moment.

“Most people are saying Gwang Sa-bang. They say the corpses have wounds from a trident—and plenty of them. Some are so mangled you can barely recognize them.”
“Was Gwang Sa-bang still alive?”
“That’s why the magistrate’s office is in such upheaval.”

Another disciple cut in.

“This morning the county magistrate himself

went directly to the Wang estate. Apparently the patriarch was furious—they’ve released all the Pa Gun-dang people.”

So Cheol picked up the gloves lying on the work table and merely nodded his head.
It had gone as intended.
Gwang Sa-bang. At least the initial suspicion had turned that way.
Of course, it wasn’t over. If the magistrate’s office conducted a proper autopsy, the distinct nature of each corpse’s wounds would come to light. But even then, what would first catch attention was the trident damage from the water and the location—So Gang. He had cut off as many traces as possible that led directly back to himself.
What mattered more was that Hwang Won hadn’t made it back alive to report. According to Gwang Sa-bang’s own account, the twelve men under Hwang Won had been searching through the fishing villages around So Gang and had gotten close enough to discover signs of a confrontation between So Won and Hwang Tae Gon.
But Hwang Won, the one who should have made that report to Wang San directly, never came back.
While a clash between So Won and Hwang Tae Gon was conspicuous enough, Hwang Tae Gon had enemies beyond just the So family.
The immediate reason for Wang San’s attention to turn this way had been reduced.
Yet caution was warranted.
So Cheol placed metal in the forge and surveyed the surroundings.
He needed to understand first how large a figure Wang San truly was—the reach of his power.
Around midday, he crossed paths with an inner sect disciple returning from Nae Mu-dang. So Cheol shared a few casual remarks before steering the conversation naturally toward Hwang Won.

“I hear the county magistrate came in person this morning?”
“You’re only hearing about it now?”

The man snorted.

“For someone of the Wang patriarch’s standing, there’s nothing strange about it.”
“Still, isn’t the county magistrate a high-ranking official in Nohyeon?”
“High-ranking, sure.”

He glanced around once.
So Cheol slipped a piece of silver he’d cut and kept in his sleeve close to the man’s hand.

“You must have dropped this, friend.”

The man’s mouth curved upward as he looked at the silver.

“I suppose my mind’s been scattered lately.”
“I have a sharp eye for such things.”

The distance between them narrowed slightly.
The man lowered his voice.

“If you name the strongest powers in Nohyeon, it comes down to the county magistrate office, Jo Un-bang, and our Cheoljang-bang. But Wang San ranks in the top three even within Cheoljang-bang.”
“I’ve heard he’s reached the peak of 3rd-rank.”
“That’s not all. He’s barely past his mid-thirties, yet there’s talk he can see the threshold of 4th-rank. Why would Hyeon Wei humble himself?”

So Cheol nodded with an impassive expression.
He already knew Wang San was formidable.
But that he’d gone so far as to visit someone from the magistrate’s office and feel out their position—that was another matter entirely.

“If he’s so capable, he must be busier than ever these days.”
“The opposite, actually.”

The man smiled.

“These last few days he’s barely left his residence. He’s been occupied with his new direct disciple, from what I hear.”
“You mean Yeo Ui?”
“That’s the one. Yeo Ui.”

The image of a corpse mountain flashed through So Cheol’s mind.
He pressed on, thinking to wring a bit more silver from this exchange.

“But why did Hwang Won go to So Gang just now? If Wang San is occupied teaching Yeo Ui, shouldn’t he be keeping watch nearby?”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know the details myself.”

Just as So Cheol thought the conversation had run its course, the man continued.

“But a cousin of mine works security at Wang San’s estate.”

So Cheol’s eyes shifted ever so slightly.

“According to my cousin, Hwang Won’s trip to So Gang wasn’t his first errand.”
“What do you mean?”
“He moved separately beforehand—on Yeo Ui’s account.”

So Cheol’s hand stilled.

“On Yeo Ui’s account?”
“I don’t know beyond that. My cousin didn’t hear the exact details either.”

The man flicked the silver piece between his fingers.

“Why, does it trouble you that his direct disciples are competing?”

So Cheol laughed.

“There’s only one recommendation slot, after all. It’d be a lie to say I wasn’t curious.”
“That’s fair enough.”

The man nodded without suspicion.
They parted ways at the fork in the road.
So Cheol turned back toward Jang Shim-dang, but he didn’t quicken his pace.
He knew from Gwang Sa-bang’s memories that Hwang Won had other business.
But that this business was connected to Yeo Ui—that was news to him.
Wang San, Hwang Won, Yeo Ui.
Three names he’d seen separately until now had aligned again on the same horizon.
He didn’t yet know what it was about. Whether Yeo Ui herself knew the fact remained unclear. All he had to go on was that Hwang Won had moved as Wang San’s man—and nothing else he could thread together without reaching.
Still, it was worth confirming.
So Cheol paused before the door of Jang Shim-dang.
Hwang Won’s final path had not begun in So Gang.
Before that, there had been one path—toward Yeo Ui.

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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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