One month later.
Gwang-mu sat alone in his room, murmuring in a daze.
"This... this actually works...?"
After Gwang-mu accepted the wager, Un-hyeok immediately set about restructuring the work system.
Even among smiths, each individual had different areas of expertise.
Un-hyeok identified those first and assigned each smith to specialize in a single field.
"Division of labor, he called it. Thanks to that, production roughly doubled."
In truth, this was only the early stage of implementation.
Once the system stabilized, an increase of three times-- or even four-- seemed entirely possible.
And did quality suffer for it?
Not at all.
What had mostly been mid-grade goods were now elevated to upper-mid and high-grade at the least.
And that was not all.
"To think he'd actually get the artisans to share techniques with one another."
To put this in terms martial artists would understand, it was as revolutionary as sharing one's own martial arts with others.
"He's a sharp one, that's for certain. I never imagined he'd butter the smiths up so thoroughly."
One day each week, without fail, Un-hyeok gathered all the smiths together.
-All right, everyone's worked hard. I've prepared plenty of meat and drink tonight, so eat and unwind from a long week!
-YEAAAH!
-Thank you, Young Sect Leader!
After a grueling week of labor.
There was no chance the smiths would refuse free food and drink.
Every last one of them settled in to enjoy themselves.
In the meantime.
Un-hyeok slyly squeezed himself in among the smiths.
They were already flushed with drink, their tongues loosened-- and he struck at that opening.
Once Un-hyeok opened the floodgates, the smiths began to argue among themselves.
-No, no, listen here! That's when you need to work the bellows harder and heat the metal even hotter! That way, it'll be all the tougher after quenching!
-Ha! Shows what you know! Steel that's only been hardened breaks just as easily-- you didn't know that?
Technique was something forged from generations of artisans' accumulated experience.
That was precisely why even smiths of the same trade each held different secrets.
"Crafty brat. He thinks I didn't see him grinning behind my back. He probably wanted this to happen all along."
-Who do you think you are, talking like you know everything! How many years have you been working iron? You think you know more about smelting than I do?
-Pfah, what's the use of years at the forge? Your skull's stuffed with nothing but dung!
-What?! You bastard, what the hell did you just say?!
-BASTARD?! Who do you think you're cursing at?!
Just as the atmosphere turned ugly enough that they were grabbing each other by the collar.
Un-hyeok, who had been watching quietly, stepped in.
-Now, now. This isn't going anywhere like this, so how about we settle it like this? The two of you have at it and prove who's right.
-Very well, I'm confident in my way!
-So am I, Young Sect Leader.
-Good, then let's all head to the forge and see which of these two has the right of it!
And so the competition began.
The two artisans showcased the techniques they had honed over their lifetimes without reservation.
In truth, neither method could be called wrong.
It was simply that one proved better than the other.
-Ho, I had no idea iron could be worked like that. I learned something today.
-Wait, I just had a thought. What if we change the ratio of mild steel in the mix? It should come out much harder.
The entire process unfolded as naturally as water flowing downstream.
All Un-hyeok did was ensure that once the outcome was decided, the loser could accept the result without hard feelings.
And so, one by one, the essential techniques were gathered together, and from them, an optimal process was established.
"Ha, this is absurd. And this is just one month's work?"
In the end, Gwang-mu had no choice but to acknowledge it.
"...So you really do intend to keep your promise."
Un-hyeok had proven it for all to see.
Before Gwang-mu sat the Black Spirit Stone Iron alongside several well-crafted prototypes-- swords, sickles, and more.
Among them, a name engraved upon the blades.
≪U Dan-hyeok≫
Once these hit the market, every soul under the heavens would know Dan-hyeok's name.
No other forge could produce work of this caliber, so its renown would surely rise.
Gwang-mu smiled without even realizing it.
"Interesting brat. Fine, I lost."
The decision was Gwang-mu's to make.
"I'll take the position of Chief Smith."
Then Gwang-mu's gaze settled on the fine case set before him.
He stared at the Black Spirit Stone Iron, carefully enshrined within it.
Across its dark surface, the image of Un-hyeok training over the past month flashed through his mind.
"Relentless brat. It wasn't enough to train with sandbag weights-- he strapped iron rings to both hands and feet."
It must have been two or three times harder than what ordinary warriors endured, yet Un-hyeok always led from the front at every training session.
Furthermore, he had not lost a single sparring match against the Poison Demon Sect's warriors.
'Yes, he hasn't drawn much attention yet. But that brat will one day shake the Divine Cult to its core.'
And what of his character?
He had a cunning streak, but it was not the kind that bred resentment.
Kindness only made one a mark for fools.
In the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, which upheld the doctrine of the strong ruling the weak, a measure of shrewdness was essential.
'And above all else....'
He had found a way to resolve the lifelong anguish buried deep in Gwang-mu's heart.
Gwang-mu smiled warmly.
"More than worthy."
All that remained was for him to keep his own promise to Un-hyeok.
Gwang-mu picked up the Black Spirit Stone Iron.
A curious thrill stirred in his chest.
Why?
After U Dan-hyeok left this world.
For Gwang-mu, the smith's work had been nothing more than a desperate struggle born of regret, self-reproach, and unresolved grief.
But now.
His steps toward the forge were light enough to almost feel buoyant.
"For the first time in a very long while, I'll be able to pick up the hammer with a smile."
***
A few days later.
Un-hyeok visited the forge again.
The Mad Forge Artisan, now officially the Poison Demon Sect's Chief Smith, said he had something to give him.
"Hmm...."
The blazing heat from the bellows-fed fire made his face flush.
Beads of sweat dotted the smiths' foreheads.
CLANG--! CLANG--! CLANG--!
The sound was different from before.
Every smith was hammering in perfect unison.
While he waited, Un-hyeok surveyed the interior of the forge.
'Good. They're doing excellent work.'
According to General Manager Seok, production had increased further since the initial introduction of the division of labor.
All of it was thanks to the smiths actively sharing their techniques, and their growing proficiency.
'We've built up a good stock of goods by now. All that's left is to put them on the market. I can leave distribution to the Golden Dragon Chamber.'
Once that was done, he would have accomplished everything he could before entering the Demon Cultivation Grotto.
The foundation was laid, and the rest they could manage on their own.
While the work was in full swing, a smith with a white headcloth approached Un-hyeok.
"Young Sect Leader!"
"Ah, Smith Cheol-u."
Un-hyeok greeted him with a bright smile and offered his congratulations.
"I heard. The Mad Forge Artisan appointed you as Deputy Chief Smith?"
"Yes, yes! Hehehe."
Something about having both the skill and the passion-- a promising prospect, or so the old man said.
In any case, watching Cheol-u today, he did seem to have a real knack for leading people.
The smiths moved in orderly fashion under his direction.
"I heard you came to see the Chief Smith today. Follow me."
"All right."
Un-hyeok followed Cheol-u to a separate forge.
A space reserved solely for the Mad Forge Artisan.
Amid the surrounding silence, only the ring of a hammer could be heard.
CLANG--! CLANG--! CLANG--!
The sound was similar to what he had heard in the main forge, and yet different.
The intervals and volume were perfectly consistent.
But what stood out most was the clarity-- so pure that for a fleeting moment, it called to mind stone chimes.
The hammer strokes were rough, yet the arc of each swing traced a flawless trajectory.
Dozens of times.
No, hundreds.
Impurities clinging to the metal burst away in all directions like fireworks.
"......"
Un-hyeok stared at Gwang-mu in a trance, then a thought struck him.
Cheol-u's arms were four times the size of his, and yet--
How could such a thin frame emit that kind of force?
'So this is what it means to be one of the Three Great Smiths of the Realm?'
Meanwhile, the metal under Gwang-mu's hammer began to take shape.
Its form was distinctive.
Two short swords with elongated, sharply curved blades.
They called to mind the fangs of a dragon.
"Boy, what are you standing there gawking for?"
Gwang-mu kept his eyes fixed on the Black Spirit Stone Iron and beckoned Un-hyeok with a flick of his hand.
"Come here."
...Hm?
Summoned without warning, Un-hyeok approached Gwang-mu.
"What is it?"
Gwang-mu continued hammering without so much as a glance his way.
"To finish this, I need your help."
"My help?"
"Yes."
Cheol-u appeared at his side and handed him a prepared short sword.
"What's this for?"
"Cut your palm with it."
"Excuse me?"
To suddenly be told to wound himself.
Just then, a story he'd heard in a past life surfaced in Un-hyeok's mind.
When forging weapons from rare ores, the wielder's blood was mixed in to breathe a soul into the blade-- or so it was said.
'Come to think of it, the Blood Calamity Heavenly Demon's Heavenly Demon World-Slaying Sword was forged the same way.'
And so Un-hyeok took the short sword and nodded.
"Understood."
He pressed the keen edge against his palm and was about to cut, when--
a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
'Wait. What if, instead of ordinary blood, I channel the Myriad Streams Return to Poison Divine Art and let blood laced with poison flow into it?'
The essence of Un-hyeok's martial arts was 'poison.'
He could not say exactly why, but he felt that if he did so, the weapon might share that same essence.
'Let's try it.'
SLASH--!
Un-hyeok cut his palm.
A single drop of blood, suffused with the energy of the Myriad Streams Return to Poison Divine Art, seeped into the Black Spirit Stone Iron.
The Mad Forge Artisan's eyes lit up, and he grinned.
'Not bad at all.'
Whether the boy had done it knowingly or not, Un-hyeok had made the finest possible choice.
The Black Spirit Stone Iron seemed to speak.
That it understood what its master wanted.
'I can forge the greatest weapon of my life.'
Cheol-u handed a clean towel to Un-hyeok, whose palm was bleeding.
The Mad Forge Artisan kept hammering and shouted.
"Now, stand back!"
Once the form was fully set, he plunged both short swords into the water trough.
HISSSS--!
Droplets flew and a haze of steam billowed up.
When he pulled the blades out, two dark, blunt short swords emerged.
After that, the Mad Forge Artisan repeated the same process again and again.
Quenching, tempering, sharpening the edges.
Un-hyeok waited in silence through the entire process-- forging the hilts and the sheaths.
But the wait was never dull.
Simply watching a master who had reached the pinnacle of his craft was spectacle enough.
When the Mad Forge Artisan finally completed his meticulous final inspection--
"Here, take them."
He handed the pair of short swords to Un-hyeok, then sank heavily into a chair.
Un-hyeok drew the blades from their sheaths.
"......"
Against a black as deep as starlight in a night sky, a faint crimson luster shimmered.
Elegant curves, like the fangs of a dragon.
The crescent-shaped blades were suited for both slashing and thrusting.
The grip, in particular, fit his hand as if it had been molded for it-- the feel was exquisite.
SWOOSH--! WHIRL--! SWOOSH--!
"!"
When the blades cut through the air, a subtle poison qi radiated outward.
Startled, Un-hyeok channeled the Myriad Streams Return to Poison Divine Art to absorb it.
Cheol-u and the Mad Forge Artisan could not be allowed to inhale the poison qi.
But then something astonishing happened.
"...What is this?"
The Myriad Streams Return to Poison Divine Art resonated with the short swords, and his qi center surged.
The poison qi within his poison core grew thicker, and each swing felt as though it might unleash an eruption of energy.
The exhausted Mad Forge Artisan asked Un-hyeok.
"Well? Do you like them?"
Un-hyeok gazed at the short swords, his eyes spellbound.
"...This is beyond anything I imagined."
"Heh heh heh. Of course it is. These are the masterwork of my entire life."
Cheol-u fetched a ladle of water.
"Chief Smith, here...."
GULP-- GULP--
The Mad Forge Artisan downed it without pause, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Ahhh, refreshing. So, have you decided on a name?"
"Of course."
In truth, Un-hyeok had felt it the moment he first laid eyes on them.
"Dragon Fang Poison Swords."
"Poison swords made from dragon fangs...."
The Mad Forge Artisan gave a small nod.
"A fine name."
Everything that needed doing was done.
After a brief rest, the Mad Forge Artisan pushed himself up from the chair and approached Un-hyeok with a parting word.
"Use them well. Don't disgrace the name of the artisan who forged them."
U Dan-hyeok.
The name the Mad Forge Artisan had engraved upon the blades.
"Rest easy."
Un-hyeok offered a clasped-hands greeting toward the Mad Forge Artisan.
"I will make them the greatest swords in the realm."