"Is there any errand you need done?"
At the child's question, the middle-aged man who had been hammering in the smithy replied curtly.
"None."
The man, stripped to the waist, was thin and small of stature, but each downward strike of his hammer was filled with proper strength.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
"None."
It had been a few days since the child started coming to this small smithy on the outskirts of the village.
The child was a youngster who didn't look to be ten years old yet.
"Then I'll clean this place."
The one who truly needed washing was the child. Whether he slept outside or not, his clothes grew dirtier by the day.
The child began cleaning inside the smithy without being told.
He stood the hammers, anvils, tongs, and such upright, then cleared away the ash fallen beside the furnace. After sweeping and wiping the floor, he put the scattered tools back in their places.
Because his frame was small, he had to drag the large hammer using both hands and his body.
The man simply worked in silence without chasing the child away.
Kang! Kaang!
That was because he knew the child worked like this and endured each day on the food obtained from him.
If not here, the child would become a beggar, or fall into the hands of those one should never meet and be sold off somewhere.
Fortunately, this quick-witted and clever child knew full well how important each meal obtained here was, so he never crossed the man's nerves.
After cleaning diligently in his own way, the child admired the swords, knives, and daggers hanging on one wall.
This smithy made not only farming tools like hoes, sickles, and plows, but also various weapons used by martial artists.
There were so many diverse items that it was hard to believe the owner of this smithy made them all alone.
The child looked up at the concealed crossbow hanging on the wall. Perhaps because it was a dangerous military weapon, it was bound with a padlocked chain.
"Did you make that yourself too? If someone were hit by that, even a person trained in martial arts would die, right?"
As always, the man gave no answer.
"I want to make things like that too, later."
The man stopped hammering and asked the child.
"Why do you want to make them?"
Even though the child had come for several days, he had only given him food and never once asked him a question, so at this first question, the child answered clearly and deliberately.
"My father said a person needs a skill to make a living."
"Who?"
"My father."
The man did not ask about the father. Because the emotion visible on the child's face when he answered "father" was not hatred, but longing.
A father like that would never abandon the child like this, so he must be dead.
"Can I learn a skill like this too?"
"If it's to make a living, aren't there easier things?"
The child seemed to have gone to other places besides here.
"They said they don't need an errand boy at the village inn."
He was still too young; aside from being an errand boy on the streets, there would be no work he could do.
"Eat."
"Yes, thank you."
Now the child walked on his own to the table in the corner. Opening the cloth covering the basket, he found rice balls and dried meat inside.
The child ate the rice balls and meat slowly. He did not gobble them down and spill them. He tried his absolute hardest not to grate on the man's eyes. Even though he was very hungry, he did not eat everything there.
"Would you like to learn smithing?"
At the unexpected words, the child started in surprise and ran to the man.
"Yes! Please teach me!"
The man gazed at the child's sparkling eyes and nodded.
"Finish your meal first."
"Yes!"
The man began hammering silently again.
Kaang!!
From that day, the child began learning the work at the smithy in earnest.
He was still too young to do hard labor. He cleaned and ran petty errands while watching the man work. In fact, watching was the greatest lesson.
The child was smart and sharp beyond his years, so the man told him many things, even though he knew they were words given too early.
"Before you control iron, you must know how to control fire, and before you control fire, you must know how to control your heart. In the end, smithing depends on how well you control yourself."
The child did not yet know how tremendous a smith this man was. Nor that he possessed skills far beyond running a small smithy in such a remote place.
"If you fear fire, you cannot do this work. But neither can you disregard fire. Do you understand?"
It was still words he could not fully understand, but the child listened carefully to what the man said.
Thus, several months passed.
***
The child was walking a night path.
His face was taut with tension, as if being chased by someone, and in the child's hands was a crossbow. It was the very one displayed in the smithy. The crossbow was so heavy that he hugged it to his chest and walked with difficulty.
When someone walked up ahead, the child hid behind a tree. Once the person passed, the child came out again and continued walking.
Where the child's gaze was directed was a martial hall in the distance.
As the child carefully moved toward that place, someone blocked his way.
Recognizing the other party, the child was startled out of his wits. It was the owner of the smithy standing right there. He had clearly confirmed that the man had fallen asleep.
"......Mister."
The man asked with cold eyes. He had fed and sheltered him for the past several months.
"Did you come to the smithy from the very beginning to steal that?"
The child could not say no. After working for several months, he had figured out how to use the crossbow. He had also learned where the key to the lock binding it was.
The man reached out his hand, telling him to hand over the crossbow.
The child stepped back and said.
"I need this."
For the child, urgency outweighed guilt. The child had a reason he could not help but do this.
"That man killed my father. I'll kill him with this."
The child told his story while crying.
The child had lived with his father alone.
His father had done menial work at the Yongbaek Martial Hall, the largest martial hall in the area. As he was diligent by nature, he had no trouble feeding his son.
Then one day, his father returned home savagely beaten by someone.
His father, groaning in pain, had said he would be fine after sleeping, but in the end, he never woke up.
Listening to the neighbors who buried his father, the child learned that his father had been beaten to death by Zhong Chui, an instructor at the Yongbaek Martial Hall.
The reason was truly nothing much. It was because he had not placed training equipment where Zhong Chui wanted it brought, and even that had been Zhong Chui's own misunderstanding.
Zhong Chui had a foul temper even normally, but it worsened when drunk. Beating and tormenting people was an everyday occurrence for him, and he had been drunk that day as well.
He had caused trouble many times before, but because his martial arts skill was outstanding and his temperament vicious, everyone had hushed up and overlooked his evil deeds.
—Does a person die from being hit a few times? He must have had an underlying illness.
That was what the man had said upon hearing the news of the father's death.
The child spoke while crying. Even before coming to the smithy, the child had dreamt of revenge. Though he had told the man he couldn't work because there was no errand boy position, he had thought of saving money as an errand boy to get revenge.
"I heard guests talking. They said if you give money, an assassin will kill someone. But I would have had to work twenty years to save that money."
Of course, there was a high chance he would lose even that money to swindlers offering to introduce him to assassins.
"This is the only way I can take revenge."
Tears streamed from the child's eyes. The child had truly loved his father, and his father had been everything to him.
The man looked at the child without speaking. He was a smart child and a child of strong will. What child dreams of revenge upon his father's death, and what child would work for months in a smithy to steal a crossbow?
Heaven had given the child such specialness, but had also given him trials too great to bear.
The man calmly rebuked the child.
"So your theft is fine, and only that man's crime is a crime?"
The child could not answer.
"You cannot kill that man. The recoil on that crossbow is too strong; even if you aim and shoot, you won't hit."
The child looked down at the crossbow he had hugged to his chest despite its weight. It was not something he could hit with just by pulling the trigger.
"Even if you were lucky enough to hit him, you would also be guilty of killing someone. You would be imprisoned for life."
The child with his head hung low had clearly steeled himself for everything. Because of that, the man scolded him with different reasons.
"Not only you, but I will suffer hardship too."
"You, mister?"
"If a brat like you brought such a crossbow, wouldn't they trace where it came from? They'll think a child couldn't have done such a thing and assume I ordered it. Am I fine with dying for your revenge?"
How could this child have thought that far?
"I'm sorry."
To the point where one wondered how there could be so many tears in such tiny eyes, the child continued to weep.
"Would your father wish for you to be imprisoned your whole life while avenging him?"
The child said nothing.
"Living well is your revenge."
Just as the man was taking the crossbow from the child's arms.
The child asked the man.
"Then what about the man who killed my father?"
The man moved away without any answer.
"Come out tomorrow too."
The child flinched and looked at the man. He hadn't expected to be told to come out after stealing the crossbow.
"Didn't your father say so? That you need a skill to make a living."
***
Kang, kaang!
The man who had been hammering turned his head for a moment and looked at the table in the corner. The meal prepared every day for the child sat there still, covered by a cloth.
Even though the time to come had passed, the child had not come out.
Just as the man, having gazed at it for a moment, was about to hammer again, someone spoke from behind.
"Would you tend to this sword?"
The man answered without turning around.
"Take it elsewhere. I cannot tend to such a precious sword."
Then the guest from behind asked.
"How do you know it is a precious sword without even looking at it?"
"Because............ it is your sword."
The man turned around.
The person smiling before him was Geom Mugeuk. The owner of this smithy was none other than Myeongsin, who had been a subordinate of the King of Killers.
"I thought I had completely hidden my past, but it seems not."
"For that, you ought to have lived selling rice or clothes."
Parting with Geom Mugeuk, Myeongsin had said he would live running a smithy. There was no way Tongcheon Gak could not find the whereabouts of such a Myeongsin.
Myeongsin stared intently at Geom Mugeuk. He recalled what the young cult leader had said. It had been the answer to why she saved him.
—Because I don't want to sweep away people like you as I go along my path. Because I think it would be nice if somewhere in this world, there was a wonderful assassin who would take a single coin offered by a little one who unjustly lost his parents as commission to kill a wicked man.
That was why Myeongsin was glad to reunite with Geom Mugeuk. Because he was the only one who truly recognized him.
Geom Mugeuk looked outside and spoke.
"This young lady, please come in."
Ian, who had been outside, came in.
Geom Mugeuk introduced her as if boasting.
"This is my beloved."
His voice was thoroughly excited, and even his expression contained the emotion of "What do you think? Isn't she a wonderful woman?"
With a long-suffering expression, Ian shook her head. Truly, whenever Geom Mugeuk met someone he knew, he seemed ready to introduce her like that.
Ian politely cupped her hands in salute and greeted Myeongsin.
"I heard of you on the way. It is an honor to meet you."
"No matter what you have heard, I am a man far from honor."
Myeongsin had been the second assassin of the Myeongbu. At a glance, he could tell Ian's martial arts were superior to his own.
"You are one who has achieved great things at a young age. It is I who am honored to meet you."
Ian had been seeing many lives while traveling with Geom Mugeuk.
One vaguely resolves that this is how one must live, but she knew well how difficult it was to live a completely different life.
But as you can see, such lives actually exist.
So even such a great assassin lives running a small smithy like this.
After exchanging greetings with Ian, Myeongsin asked Geom Mugeuk,
“Why have you come looking for me?”
“Have you forgotten? Did you not say you would send me something whenever you made a fine piece? I waited and waited, but nothing came, so I came like this myself.”
Of course, that was not the reason. He had been curious about how Myeongsin was living.
“Were you really waiting?”
He was the Young Cult Leader who even now wore the Black Demon Sword, called the second greatest sword in the Demonic Path. Once he became Cult Leader, he would wear the Heavenly Demon Sword, the greatest sword in the Demonic Path. What fine weapon in the world could such a man need?
“I have yet to make anything good.”
“When you do, be sure to send it to our cult.”
Since it meant he wished to keep their connection alive, Myeongsin nodded. He was the one who should be grateful.
Geom Mugeuk had come to see Myeongsin because he had wanted to, but there was also something he absolutely wished to tell him.
“Live at ease from now on. The ghosts of the past will no longer follow you.”
Myeongsin understood. The organization he had once belonged to had vanished completely. Now he was perfectly free.
“Thank you.”
Their gazes met in midair. Geom Mugeuk bade Myeongsin farewell.
“Then let us meet again next time.”
“Let us.”
Ian looked at the two of them in astonishment. They were really leaving just like this? After only seeing his face? Without even sharing a meal?
Through this journey together, Ian had come to learn new things about the man named Geom Mugeuk. She had thought she knew him better than anyone, but that had been a misconception.
The road here had been quite long. Before, she had not known he was the sort of person who would come all that way for such a brief meeting. She had only thought him the sort to eat, drink, and say that since they had come all this way, they might as well see everything before leaving.
Which side of him was the real one?
Geom Mugeuk, talkative? When he was someone who could smile once like that and leave?
After parting with Myeongsin and walking out of the forge, they saw a child running toward it in excitement.
With a face as though he had gained the whole world, the child rushed into the forge and shouted,
“Mister! They say that bastard died last night. He was drunk and missed his footing…”
Myeongsin’s voice could be heard as well.
“You brat, you’re late. Hurry up and start cleaning.”
“I’ll really learn and work hard from now on!”
“Eat first.”
“Yes!”
Geom Mugeuk, who had been looking at that small forge, turned his gaze toward the sky. As he looked up at the sky, which seemed especially blue today, a smile formed at the corners of his mouth.
“So you will not accept even a single coin.”