07

#7 “Pale and Soft Weakling”

Cheol Gun-ak turned to the elderly woman with a serious expression.
“If your acquaintance is difficult to reach, don’t bother contacting them.”

“…But what other options do we have?”

Having rolled through countless hardships in his past life, Cheol Gun-ak wasn’t used to meticulous planning—it felt awkward compared to his usual gut-driven approach. Still, he had a plan, and he was oddly proud of it.

“I’m going to contact the Guangming Squad. Their leader flips out at the mere mention of the Dark Emperor Sect.”

Among the Eight Great Squads of the Northern Heavens, the Guangming Squad stood out. Cheol Gun-ak vividly remembered how the entire squad had charged at the Dark Emperor during their retreat to the Central Plains—only to freeze to death in moments. Witnessing that made him certain the Dark Emperor Sect hadn’t infiltrated the Guangming Squad.

‘Their leader’s temper is so foul, it’s practically expected.’

They even joked about replacing the character for “light” in Guangming with “mad” . Other squads kept their distance from the Guangming Squad—it was common knowledge. When Cheol Gun-ak casually mentioned summoning them, both the elderly woman and the young maid looked puzzled.

“The Green Flame Squad comes here because this is Lorkju Province, but why would the Guangming Squad come to the Cheol Family?”

A valid question. But Cheol Gun-ak had thought this through. Feeling smug about his own planning, he shrugged nonchalantly.

“They’ll come if I call them.”

“…Young Master.”

The elderly woman frowned, thinking it was a bad joke. Her movement caused her wound to reopen slightly. Quickly, Cheol Gun-ak sat down on the edge of the table, adopting a serious expression.

“You know the Guangming Squad guards the border with the Central Plains, right?”

Coincidentally, Yun Nok-san had left a chessboard on the table, deep in thought over a game. Cheol Gun-ak moved one of the chariot pieces.

“They escort food supplies from the Central Plains and deliver materials for the Peerless Armory to the Cheol Family. That’s their job.”

“So there is a connection.”

“Exactly. If they hear the Dark Emperor Sect has infiltrated the Cheol Family, their leader will charge here with bloodshot eyes.”

The Northern Heavens were divided into eight provinces, each overseen by one of the Eight Great Squads. Naturally, the Green Flame Squad and the Iron-Sick Cheol Family in Lorkju Province were closely tied. The Guangming Squad, however, only had indirect ties. For their leader to intervene despite political risks was unlikely—especially now, when squad leaders were at each other’s throats. Both the elderly woman and the maid understood this. Though they didn’t say it aloud, Cheol Gun-ak’s plan seemed far-fetched.

‘With the Guangming Squad leader’s temperament, they’ll definitely act if provoked.’

But Cheol Gun-ak was confident. Staring at the chess piece in his hand, he organized his thoughts. There were two main issues to address.

‘First, how close are the Green Flame Squad leader and Lady Yi Myeong-hwa?’

The Dark Emperor Sect was fanatically devoted to their cause, discarding morality entirely. Even fellow sect members could be sacrificed if it served the Dark Emperor’s resurrection. So, even if the Green Flame Squad leader came, there was no telling how they’d react. From what Cheol Gun-ak knew of the sect in the Central Plains, they’d slit Lady Yi’s throat without hesitation. But the sect in the Northern Heavens might operate differently.

‘Second, can the Guangming Squad arrive in time?’

Even with the Peerless Armory’s fiery flames tempering his newfound strength, taking on the Green Flame Squad alone was suicidal. He needed reinforcements—but whether they’d arrive on time was anyone’s guess.

‘And then there’s the third issue: how much does Cheol U-saeng love Lady Yi Myeong-hwa?’

Everything was uncertain. But Cheol Gun-ak leaned back with a smirk.

‘This is fun.’

It felt like sailing across a pitch-black sea without a moon or stars in sight. Others might despair in such uncertainty, but not Cheol Gun-ak.

Whoosh—.

The sound of Zhu Rong Devil Arts echoed in his ears. The scent of fire tickled his nose. Cheol Gun-ak waited patiently for the moment when he could burn everything away with his flames.

“By the way, I never knew you had an acquaintance, Grandma.”

“That’s because you never asked.”

“Well…”

Cheol Gun-ak trailed off. In his memories, the elderly woman had always been bustling around the kitchen or tidying up rooms. He’d never thought about who else she might meet or how she lived. Back then, consumed by his own misery, he hadn’t spared her a second thought. Smiling bitterly, he replied:

“I’ll ask more questions from now on.”

The elderly woman tried to frown at his awkwardness, but the pain from her healing wound stopped her. Instead, she softened and gave a faint smile.

“You’re starting to act more like a man of the Northern Heavens. Like him.”

“Him?”

“The person I’m contacting. It’s an old promise, so I’m not sure how it’ll turn out—but…”

“If you call him ‘him,’ then I’m sure he’ll keep his promise.”

Cheol Gun-ak stood up. His clothes, stiff with dried blood, made movement uncomfortable. Both women had been worried about his wounds, but since he insisted he was fine and the doctor had already left, they hesitated to bring it up.

“I should go fulfill my own promise now.”

Tug—.

Without another word, Cheol Gun-ak stripped off his shirt. He tossed the blood-soaked garment into a bin for dirty laundry.

“What about your wounds?”

The young maid muttered under her breath. Cheol Gun-ak’s pale, bare torso was covered in dried bloodstains—clear evidence of injuries. But as he wiped them away, the scabs disappeared, leaving only faint pink marks. A weak flame flickered over the scars, and they healed almost instantly. Walking toward the wall where spare clothes hung, he replied casually:

“I heal fast.”

The clothes were loose-fitting, likely meant for patients. Cheol Gun-ak picked a dark gray martial artist’s robe, folding the fabric neatly before tightening the straps at his wrists, ankles, and waist. With that, he transformed into a respectable-looking young man. Finally, he tied his long hair back and smirked.

The elderly woman, however, watched him with a complex expression.

“Healing quickly? Don’t make me laugh.”

“And where do you think I’m headed next?”

“What kind of nonsense is that supposed to be?”

“Heh, it’s the fastest route.”

“…?”

Her concern wasn’t just for his safety—it was deeper than that. Cheol Gun-ak didn’t turn around as he spoke.

“Grandma.”

Still, he didn’t look back. The elderly woman answered softly, watching his retreating figure.

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry too much. I can handle this.”

“…Young Master.”

“Right.”

She felt a deep sadness in his words.

“No one can live alone forever.”

His mother was dead, and his father had abandoned him. Knowing she was the only family he had left, she added:

“One branch may break easily, but three together are harder to snap.”

Whoosh—.

Cheol Gun-ak drew a horizontal line in the air with his hand—the same gesture the Dark Emperor had used to split his body in half.

“Even dozens of logs will fall before a single sword’s might.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!”

When the elderly woman spoke of people, she meant humanity itself. And Cheol Gun-ak was walking straight into hellfire.

—

### At the Peerless Armory

The Cheol Family had originally supplied materials to the Peerless Armory, handled finished products, and managed miscellaneous tasks. Over time, they grew powerful enough to become one of the Three Great Guardian Families of the Northern Heavens.

“Hey, mind if I borrow a kiln?”

“Sure.”

The Peerless Armory was the heart of the Northern Heavens—a place even the Patriarch couldn’t touch. And the Heavenly Grade Kiln Cheol Gun-ak sought out was the heart of the heart, reserved for master craftsmen.

An old craftsman named Da-no-ya, puffing on a long pipe, eyed Cheol Gun-ak skeptically.

“A pale and soft weakling like the eldest son of the Cheol Family wants to use our kiln?”

The other craftsmen nearby chuckled. If it were any other member of the Cheol Family, they might have taken him seriously. But Cheol Gun-ak? Known as the weakest and most spineless heir? Ridiculous.

“Heard rumors that the Young Master’s been causing quite a stir lately.”

“Does that impress you?”

Da-no-ya smirked.

“A little. Especially seeing the Patriarch’s nose flatten after being bewitched by that fox Lady Yi.”

Truthfully, he was more impressed than he let on. Hearing about Cheol Gun-ak holding Lady Yi Myeong-hwa at chopstick-point and dominating the room had piqued his curiosity. Had the boy changed? And if so, how much?

Now, meeting him in person, Da-no-ya saw the difference immediately.

“I’ve held a hammer for forty years.”

Known simply as Da-no-ya, he stood at the pinnacle of the Peerless Armory. He trained all its craftsmen, oversaw every product, and even forged the Northern Heavens Lord’s sword. Despite his age, his broad shoulders and imposing frame hinted at his former strength. He tapped his pipe clean.

“To excel at this craft, you need to understand what the metal is saying and what the flames are plotting.”

“I see.”

“In other words, I’ve spent my life reading between the lines. But looking at you, Young Master…”

Da-no-ya raised the corner of his mouth. No further explanation was needed. He pointed to a secluded area behind him—a private workspace with its own bellows and kiln, separated from the others by earthen walls.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I know what needs to be done.”

“That’s good enough. Grab whatever materials you need from the warehouse.”

The other blacksmiths began murmuring among themselves. Offering Da-no-ya’s personal workspace to the Young Master? Unthinkable.

“Da-no-ya.”

A gray-haired blacksmith approached—Sung-gok, considered the next in line to succeed Da-no-ya.

“To hold a hammer, we must apprentice for at least three years.”

“That’s right.”

“Last time, I understood lending out a forge due to special circumstances. But why offer your spot so readily to a clueless Young Master?”

This wasn’t jealousy. Sung-gok was too mature for that. But the forge was a dangerous place—molten metal, blazing heat, and oil everywhere. How could someone like Cheol Gun-ak survive, let alone succeed?

“Sung-gok.”

“Yes.”

“Look closely at his eyes. Tell me what you see in those dark, black pupils.”

“…?”

Sung-gok tilted his head, studying Cheol Gun-ak. Aside from his scholarly appearance, he saw nothing remarkable. Da-no-ya clicked his tongue.

“That’s why you’re not Da-no-ya yet.”

“Please teach me.”

“No teaching needed. Just watch what the Young Master does. You’ll understand soon enough. Besides, I made a promise long ago.”

“A promise?”

“You don’t need to know the details.”

With Da-no-ya backing Cheol Gun-ak so firmly, no one else dared protest. Cheol Gun-ak bowed slightly to the group before grabbing a cart.

‘I came prepared for a long argument, but this is unexpected.’

In his past life, Da-no-ya hadn’t even acknowledged his presence, treating him as invisible. Now, he was offering his personal forge. Cheol Gun-ak smirked.

‘Whatever you’re expecting, I’ll exceed it.’

Whoosh—.

He ignited Zhu Rong Devil Arts in his dantian. Instantly, scorching divine flames surged through his meridians. Though he’d barely opened

But even Zhu Rong Devil Arts had its limits. Without rare medicinal herbs, achieving the first stage in just a few days through normal means was impossible.

‘So I’ll take the unconventional route.’

Cheol Gun-ak unleashed Zhu Rong Devil Arts within the Peerless Armory, home to the second-hottest flames in the Northern Heavens.

“Uh…?”
“What’s wrong with the flames?”

The blacksmiths looked around in confusion. The kiln’s flames had grown strange—intense heat suddenly weakened, then flickered. The only change was Cheol Gun-ak’s presence, yet the flames seemed to dance as if greeting their master. None of them connected the dots, instead adding more wood and pumping the bellows.

Only Da-no-ya narrowed his eyes, watching Cheol Gun-ak’s back intently.

‘Three days from now.’

Patriarch Cheol U-saeng would leave with the Cheol Family Guard to greet the Green Flame Squad leader. Whether it was Lady Yi Myeong-hwa or Third Son Cheol Wi-gyeok, if anything happened, it would be then.

‘If not, I’ll make it happen myself.’

Cheol Gun-ak began stoking the flames of the kiln, preparing for the war ahead.