10

#10 “Nothingness, Yet Everything”

The history of the Northern Heavens was written in blood.
And the weapons forged by the Peerless Armory were always drenched in that blood. Thus, the people of the Northern Heavens treated these weapons with utmost reverence.

Especially Da-no-ya, the greatest craftsman of the Peerless Armory, who exclusively crafted weapons for the Lord of the Northern Heavens.

“It was long ago.”

Da-no-ya’s steps led downward into the underground chamber.

Cheol Gun-ak found it strange that there was a basement beneath the forge. Metal’s greatest enemies were humidity and darkness, so the armory had a well-ventilated warehouse beside it to store materials. Yet here was a separate underground space.

Whoooooosh—.

As the entrance door opened, a musty smell wafted out.

“In the Extreme North, rare materials not found in the Central Plains can be unearthed.”
“Because it’s a land driven mad.”

“And long ago, after the Northern Heaven Lord returned from his expedition to the Extreme North, he brought back an enigmatic black iron ore.”

It was a peculiar iron ore, crimson like dried blood and flesh. Upon returning from the expedition, the Northern Heaven Lord immediately went to the Peerless Armory and entrusted the ore to Da-no-ya.

─Forge this ominous thing into a sword.

To the Lord, it seemed foreboding. But to Da-no-ya, who had spent his entire life working with molten metal, the black iron ore was irresistibly fascinating. It was extraordinarily hard yet mysteriously flexible. While other types of iron were simply “iron,” this black iron felt like a miracle specifically designed to become a sword.

Klang—.

Da-no-ya and Cheol Gun-ak walked through the dark passageway. Faintly glowing moonstones embedded along the walls dimly illuminated the path.

Klang—.

Amidst the flickering light and shadow, Da-no-ya heard echoes of the distant past—the sounds of when he had melted the black iron ore and forged it into a sword. Back then, blue flames had erupted. The black iron, which resisted melting in ordinary furnaces, melted like a loyal servant meeting its master when exposed to the blue flames.

For days and nights without sleep, Da-no-ya hammered the black iron, just as Cheol Gun-ak had done recently.

“The sword I created… was a demon sword.”
“Did it kill its owner, or did it kill many others?”
“It was held by only one person, and afterward, it remained sealed here. In a way, you could call it a sword that never killed.”
“Then why is it called a demon sword?”

“…”

Da-no-ya didn’t answer. Sometimes, seeing was faster than explaining with a hundred words.

Woooooo—.

A strange, eerie hum grew louder as they approached. Cheol Gun-ak felt a sense of déjà vu from the haunting sound that stirred his soul.

‘A demon sword that has never killed a human.’

He wondered why the Northern Heaven Lord hadn’t taken the sword he had commissioned. Before he could ask, Da-no-ya spoke first.

“I finished forging this sword and immediately ran to Hwa-rim.”

Though he had made it, he couldn’t bear to wield it himself—a demon sword that no human could hold without losing their humanity. He believed the Northern Heaven Lord could subdue it.

The Lord, as if waiting, opened the gates of the Northern Heaven Palace for Da-no-ya. Passing through the nine gates of Guk-hwa Hall, Da-no-ya respectfully presented the demon sword.

The Lord carefully drew the black iron sword and examined it silently for half an hour. Then, sheathing it again, he handed it back to Da-no-ya and said:

“It resembles its master.”
“Master?”

“Later, I heard that this black iron was formed from the corpse of Mu-wang.”

“…!”

Cheol Gun-ak’s eyes widened.

There were four kings who followed the Dark Emperor. They symbolized the four shades of darkness—Ming, Heuk, Hyun, and Mu—and among them, Mu-wang was the primary culprit behind the fall of the Northern Heavens.

Mu-wang appeared unusually youthful compared to the other kings.

Could it be that the reason for his youthful appearance was because the previous Mu-wang had been slain by the Northern Heaven Lord?

‘A demon sword forged from the blood and flesh of the former Mu-wang.’

Even though the followers of the Dark Emperor Sect were strange, the idea of turning into iron or becoming a demon sword was unfamiliar even to Cheol Gun-ak.

But then again, that’s what the Dark Emperor Sect was all about.

By the time they reached the heavily sealed iron door, the eerie hum of the demon sword had grown deafening.

‘I suspected as much…’

After listening for a while, Cheol Gun-ak was certain of what lay beyond the door. Da-no-ya placed his hand gently on the iron door and spoke.

“I saw how you forged the arm guards.”

Cheol Gun-ak’s resentment had burned fiercely. Da-no-ya had seen countless warriors of the Northern Heavens, but none gave him the same feeling as Cheol Gun-ak—except for the Northern Heaven Lord and the black iron ore.

“The Northern Heaven Lord said a worthy master would one day come to name this sword. He hoped that person wouldn’t be an enemy of the Northern Heavens.”

“…”

Squeeeak—.

The ancient iron door creaked open. A dense miasma flooded out, making it feel as though they were drowning underwater.

Clank, clank.

In the center of the room, suspended by dozens of chains, floated a single sword. Its appearance was quite unique.

It was shorter than an average sword by about a span, but its hilt was longer by an inch. The blade wasn’t straight—it curved slightly, resembling a saber specialized for cutting.

Da-no-ya gestured toward the demon sword.

“What do you think?”

The moment Cheol Gun-ak faced the sword, he instinctively knew.

“This is your work, Elder, but it’s not truly your creation.”

“…!”

Da-no-ya’s eyes widened, and he turned his head sharply.

“The black iron desired this form.”

Cheol Gun-ak took slow steps toward the sword.

“It yearned to become the perfect shape for killing humans.”

A faint smile spread across his face.

A nameless demon sword for now—but in just seven years, it would unleash countless massacres across the Central Plains and the Northern Heavens.

‘Mu-wang’s Demon Sword, Hyeollya.’

When the Northern Heavens fell.
Before the Dark Emperor appeared.

Mu-wang had been barehanded, but after the Iron-Sick Cheol Family collapsed, he reappeared wielding ‘Hyeollya.’ With Hyeollya, Mu-wang became a manifestation of Asura—a warrior capable of facing hundreds of enemies alone.

‘To think Mu-wang’s Demon Sword was hidden in the basement of the Peerless Armory.’

Cheol Gun-ak stopped within arm’s reach. Da-no-ya came to his side, concern in his voice.

“If you’re afraid, don’t touch it.”

Malevolent energy pulsed. An oppressive killing intent radiated from the sword, like a wild beast that could never coexist with humans. This was why Da-no-ya had never given it to anyone.

But—

“You’re wrong.”

Cheol Gun-ak shook his head firmly.

Wooooooong—!

At that moment, the demon sword began to violently thrash. The chains rattled loudly, gradually loosening one by one.

Cheol Gun-ak extended his hand toward the sword, shaking off the chains.

“Only those who are afraid should wield a sword.”
“Those who are afraid?”

“If someone becomes strong without confronting their fear, that’s a calamity. But acknowledging fear allows one to stand firm.”

A truth known only to martial artists.

Cheol Gun-ak smiled as he felt the intense killing intent and malevolence emanating from the demon sword.

‘I’ll rename you.’

Shwing—!

Cheol Gun-ak drew the sword.

The crimson blade emitted a faint glow, slowly engulfing the underground chamber. Da-no-ya instinctively stepped back from the overwhelming pressure.

And Cheol Gun-ak—

Whoosh—.

Activated Zhu Rong Devil Arts.

The latent demonic energy of Mu-wang clashed with the superheated divine flames capable of incinerating the world.

‘If the past you was the red night that welcomed the Dark Emperor’s eternal night, creating the bloody night that became Hyeollya…’

Grip—.

He tightened his hold on the sword.

Initially, the demon sword tried to invade his mind. If Cheol Gun-ak had been an ordinary martial artist, the intense allure might have overwhelmed him.

But—

Cheol Gun-ak had already lived through hell.

And living itself was hell.

The sword’s temptation was nothing more than the air he breathed every day.

“A complete night, Heuk-ya.”

“Heuk-ya.”

“In the Extreme North, you know that true black nights never come.”

The Extreme North had no distinction between day and night. Always cloaked in an eerie white twilight, occasionally disturbed by unsettling black eyes drifting through the air.

“From now on, this sword will bring a proper black night to the cursed Extreme North.”

“So it’s Heuk-ya. It’s a good name, but…”

Da-no-ya looked at Cheol Gun-ak with worry. Despite the name change, the sword continued to emit its original crimson killing intent.

Ignoring this, Cheol Gun-ak raised his left hand.

‘Let’s see how much you can squirm.’

He completely covered the tip of the blade with his palm. His hand split open, and blood dripped down the blade. The demon sword greedily absorbed every drop, not letting a single one fall to the ground.

Cheol Gun-ak gripped both ends of the sword and unleashed the power of Zhu Rong Devil Arts’ first stage, Deng Huo Ji Yu.

Whoooooosh—!

“What, what is this?!”

Da-no-ya stepped back in shock. An immense heat, comparable to a kiln’s flames, radiated from the sword. Both ends of the demon sword, which the Northern Heaven Lord had rejected, began to burn black.

Simultaneously—

The fragment of the Imperial Jade Seal in Cheol Gun-ak’s left hand glowed brilliantly, visible only to him.

‘There’s definitely something to it.’

It had helped when he attacked the Baihui Acupoint with superheated divine flames. Now, it subtly assisted in subduing the sword, almost as if cheering him on.

‘Come to think of it, what would the real Imperial Jade Seal be like?’

Looking at the fragment made him wonder. Was the genuine seal, hidden deep within the Forbidden Palace, still intact, or was it as broken as the piece embedded in him?

One of the Seven Treasures of the Central Plains, it was too mysterious to comprehend. But what did it matter?

Cheol Gun-ak focused more intently, burning the demon sword black from end to end with his superheated divine flames.

Swish—.

He swung the sword downward.

The original malevolence and killing intent were pushed deep inside, replaced by the tyrannical heat characteristic of Zhu Rong Devil Arts.

“Now it’s truly Heuk-ya.”

Da-no-ya’s eyes watered as he watched the demon sword finally find its rightful master. Not wanting Cheol Gun-ak to see, he quickly wiped his tears with his sleeve. But the moisture etched into the wrinkles of his face couldn’t be erased.

Then, reaching into his pocket, he hesitated before letting out a deep sigh.

“And this… was something I was asked to give you long ago.”

“A request?”

Swish—.

He handed over a red tassel. It was an ornament meant to be tied to the end of a sword’s hilt.

Cheol Gun-ak blinked in surprise at the sudden, unexpected gift.

Da-no-ya firmly tied the ornament to the pommel of Heuk-ya.

“Lady Mother visited me once, long ago.”

Long ago.

A woman who, like Cheol Gun-ak, had called Da-no-ya “Elder.” She had survived tenaciously in the unfamiliar Iron-Sick Cheol Family, hoping her son would grow into a fine man of the Northern Heavens.

“She said that if her son ever grew up to become a great man of the Northern Heavens, she hoped I’d forge a sword for him.”

“…!”

“When she gave me this, she said it was just a simple decoration, but it was the only thing she could personally make for him.”

Mother.

Hearing that unexpected word, Cheol Gun-ak gazed at the red tassel with complex emotions. Its crimson hue suited the now-blackened Heuk-ya perfectly.

He swung the sword, watching the tassel sway.

“Because it’s nothing, it means everything to me.”

His forgotten mother.

The gift she had left for him.

In his previous life, he had never visited the Peerless Armory, and until the Northern Heavens fell, he had been too busy hiding to notice it.

Cheol Gun-ak smiled faintly.

He had come to forge arm guards but ended up gaining much more.

‘I’ve even taken Mu-wang’s weapon.’

As he exited, asking Da-no-ya about his mother, someone awaited him outside.

“Young Master.”

Outside stood Yun Nok-san, the physician, nervously glancing around while accompanied by a young maid carrying two enormous lunchboxes.

“She insisted on coming along to check on Young Master after hearing you stayed up for two nights in the forge!”

“Well, isn’t that because Young Master worked tirelessly at the forge with nothing but chopsticks?!”

The scene reminded Cheol Gun-ak of dumplings and pickled radishes—unexpectedly harmonious.

Grrrrumble—.

His stomach growled.

The maid, accustomed to this, quickly laid out the stacked lunchboxes.

“I handled everything you asked.”

Before leaving, Cheol Gun-ak had instructed her to send a letter to the Guangming Squad. It seemed she had done well. And mentioning Da-no-ya and Yun Nok-san vaguely showed her cleverness.

Cheol Gun-ak ruffled her hair affectionately.

The maid grinned and relayed what she had heard on the way.

“By the way, the Patriarch is leaving soon. Aren’t you going to see him?”

“He’s the kind of man who’d spit curses at the sight of me.”

Cheol Gun-ak paused mid-chopstick, pondering her words, then spoke.

“Today. Yun Nok-san.”
“Huh? Me?”

Startled at being suddenly addressed, Yun Nok-san’s eyes widened. Cheol Gun-ak nodded, confirming it was indeed him.

“Is there space at Yi-hwa Pavilion?”
“Well, there are beds for patients…”
“Then register Grandma and this child as patients today.”
“Huh?”

At Yun Nok-san’s questioning tone, Cheol Gun-ak’s eyes narrowed.

The memory of blood-stained chopsticks flashed in his mind. Realizing the implication, Yun Nok-san waved his hands frantically.

“Of course! From now on, they’re patients!”

Watching Yun Nok-san scurry back and forth between cowardice and professionalism was amusing.

Cheol Gun-ak smirked, lifting a bite of food from the lunchbox the maid had prepared.

He sensed it.

The time had come.

Whether it was time to die or time to kill, he didn’t yet know.