Tangmunjeon - Chapter 310



Only Noblemtl

Episode 310: Taegeumcheolbang

Dang Mu-jin went to see Tae No-in with the money.

Tae Noin’s reaction was not at all different from Dang Mujin’s expectations.

Old man Tae spoke in a tone that seemed meaningful for no reason.

“I thought it was about time you came.”

“···Yes. I came to get the Eternal Chul.”

The old man Tae opened the box containing the iron, and Dang Mujin picked up a lump of iron from underneath the box. It was a bit short of being an eternal iron, but it was a lump of iron with a cool air flowing through it.

Dang Mu-jin held out a pouch filled with gold coins.

Old man Tae did not open the pouch to check the gold. That was not a very cool thing to do.

But at the same time, it seemed like the old man had no intention of lowering the price.

“···.”

Suddenly, I had a strong feeling that I wanted to say that this wasn’t a permanent season, but just a single season. If I said that, I might be able to lower the price.

However, Dang Mu-jin decided to keep his mind on it. If he had brought up such a topic, it seemed like the old man would have gotten angry and raised the price or refused to do business.

In fact, this price is cheap considering the value of Hancheol.

Instead, Dang Mu-jin looked at Tae No-in with a meaningful look. It was a look that said that if he were to give up Enuri, he should get something extra.

But the old man Tae just turned his head slightly.

“It’s a precious item, so use it well.”

“···yes.”

He couldn’t even receive the dump. Dang Mu-jin walked out of the old man Tae’s residence with a limp.

Suddenly, a corner of my heart felt uneasy.

If you think about it, isn’t this Hong Geol-gae making a sword for Namgung Myung with the money he earned from participating in the martial arts competition?

Even though I knew that Hong Geol-gae was the type of guy who wouldn’t be upset about something like this, I still felt uneasy.

‘I want to give something to Hong Geol-gae too.’

But I didn’t know what to pack for Hong Geol-gae.

The martial arts that Hong Geol-gae has mastered are the Kwon-jang method and the Bong-sul. The Kwon-jang method does not require a weapon, and he already has a Bong. Cheongnok-juk-jang, or the Takubong.

Of course, Dangmujin can make a better-shaped stick than Cheongnokjukjang. However, the problem is the material.

Dang Mu-jin didn’t know exactly what the green bamboo sack was made of. It wasn’t wood or metal. He guessed that it might be some strange gem.

In the end, Dang Mu-jin scratched the back of his head.

‘Namgung Myung will probably take care of something.’

Dang Mu-jin headed to the guest house carrying Han-cheol.

*

As soon as Dang Mu-jin entered the guest house, he spoke to Namgung Myeong.

“Namgung Myung. Hand over the sword.”

“Huh? Got it.”

If any other person had asked for his sword, he would have ignored it, but if it was Dang Mujin who asked for it, it would have been a different story. Namgung Myung readily gave up the sword he had cherished so dearly.

Dang Mu-jin stayed locked in his room. He did not allow anyone else to come in.

The only person who could enter and exit the room where Dang Mu-jin was staying was Hyeon-gong.

Hyun-gong seemed to know exactly when Dang Mu-jin was hungry, so he would occasionally come to the room with food.

In a space where there were no intruders, what Dangmujin did was very simple.

From sunrise to sunset, stare at the sword, feel it with your fingertips, and commit the sword to memory.

Dang Mu-jin carefully remembered every trace left on the sword.

Where is the blade particularly worn? Where are the scratches on the blade? What are the shapes of handprints on the wooden handle?

He didn’t just examine the outside of the sword. Dang Mu-jin cut the sword’s handle in half to see if the blade had left any marks on the inside of the handle.

All of these actions would have been incomprehensible to any other fieldmaster. However, there was a clear reason why Dang Mu-jin was doing these things.

The warriors know that the habits of their master are engraved on the sword.

But just knowing that doesn’t mean you can accomplish anything with that habit.

Conversely, the night watchman can produce results, but cannot read the habits left behind in the sword.

However, Dang Mu-jin was the best swordsman in the world and an excellent swordsman who was never left out.

Dang Mu-jin knew how to read the marks left on the sword, and he also knew how to utilize those marks.

Furthermore, Dang Mu-jin knew how Namgung Myung wielded the sword and how to manage it. This sword was even made by Dang Mu-jin himself.

Dang Mu-jin examined how the sword he had made himself had changed over the seven years he had been in Namgung Myeong’s hands.

I imagined, recalled, and remembered, one by one, the path I took to get to where I am now.

Three days passed like that, and on the morning of the fourth day.

Dang Mu-jin left the room.

Namgung Myung was suddenly kicked out of the guest room and was found asleep, face down on the table in the guest room.

Dang Mu-jin woke Namgung Myung up by kicking the leg of the chair he was sitting on.

“Namgung Myeong.”

“Uh… Uh uh. You’re out?”

“Follow me. We’re going to the blacksmith shop.”

“Now? Me too?”

“okay.”

Namgung Myung yawned loudly, stretched, and followed Dang Mujin.

Namgung Myung had experience choosing a sword in front of a blacksmith shop, but he had almost never been inside a space where blacksmiths struck iron.

Soon a sign saying “Taegeumcheolbang” came into view.

As the two approached the blacksmith shop, the blacksmith who had been rubbing shoulders on a small chair in front of the blacksmith shop suddenly stood up from his seat.

The night smith bowed deeply toward Dang Mu-jin and shouted something toward the inside of the blacksmith shop.

The inside of the blacksmith shop, which had been so noisy it felt like it would tear your ears, suddenly became quiet.

As Dang Mu-jin and Nam Gung-myeong entered the quiet blacksmith shop, a young blacksmith jumped out and closed the iron door.

As long as Dang Mu-jin stays, guests who come to Taegeumcheolbang will have to turn back without getting anything.

The night watchmen bowed their heads toward Dangmujin.

“I’ve been waiting.”

“Can I borrow your oven for a few days?”

“As much as you want.”

The expression “a few days” really caught their attention, and the expressions on the night watchmen’s faces brightened greatly.

Dang Mu-jin seemed familiar with this situation, but Namgung Myung felt unfamiliar with everything inside the blacksmith shop. Namgung Myung looked around without stopping.

The thick heat felt inside the blacksmith shop, the red-hot lumps of iron that had not yet cooled down, and the smell of burning coal were unfamiliar. Namgung Myung still could not figure out why he had followed him to the blacksmith shop.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Watch as the sword is completed.”

Dang Mu-jin answered briefly and then walked towards the stove.

In a situation where everyone was silently staring at the Dangmujin, the only person who moved was the old man who was blowing the bellows. The bellows kept creaking and blowing out strong wind.

Dang Mu-jin took out Han-cheol and placed it in front of the furnace. Most of the field workers saw Han-cheol for the first time, but they immediately realized that it was no ordinary iron. Weren’t they people who had been handling iron all their lives?

However, in the eyes of the night watchmen, the amount of Hancheol was a bit small.

“Would you like to use this?”

The oldest foreman in the fort approached Dang Mu-jin and handed him a long iron bar.

A strange sight appeared in Dang Mujin’s eyes. It was Baekryeonjeonggang (百鍊精鋼).

Baekryeonjeonggang is not a special type of iron like Yuncheol, Mukcheol, or Hancheol. It is simply a product of good quality iron that has been refined a hundred times with sincerity.

But at the same time, it was too precious an iron to be used for ordinary swords, and it was the iron that best embodied the lives of the night fighters.

“This is something I prepared with sincerity. I hope it will be helpful.”

Dang Mu-jin lowered his gaze and looked at the old night watchman’s hand.

His hands were so rough that his fingernails had worn away long ago. Even if a spark were to fly, he wouldn’t feel anything.

However, the old man’s hand was slightly swollen. This was clearly not the original White Lotus Sutra, but the White Lotus Sutra he had prepared after meeting Dang Mujin.

While the people of Wuchang were preoccupied with the martial arts competition, this old man would have been locked in the iron room and pounded iron silently.

“I will use it well.”

The old man smiled gently after hearing Dang Mu-jin’s answer. He could not create the masterpiece himself, but he could leave his mark on it.

However, contrary to the old foreman’s thoughts that there would be a shortage of iron, Dang Mu-jin had brought one more material.

Dang Mu-jin unwrapped the cloth that had been wrapped around him. The blade of the sword that Namgung Myung had been using was revealed. The blade, which had no scabbard or handle, looked a bit shabby.

Dang Mu-jin put Han-cheol, Baek-ryeon Jeong-gang, and Nam-gung Myeong’s swords into the brazier at the same time.

It is not widely known, but the world’s most valuable sword is being mixed up with other lumps of iron and is now reduced to nothing more than a lump of iron.

Namgung Myung couldn’t shake off his regretful feelings because he knew how precious his sword was. He couldn’t help but question why such a precious object had to be used as a mere material. This was even the case during the process of making his sword.

That’s why Namgung Myung looked around at the field masters around him. However, the field masters didn’t show any sign of regret at all.

Namgung Myeong asked the night watchman next to him.

“···Isn’t it a shame?”

But the night watchman answered bluntly.

“Not at all.”

“Do you know how precious that sword is? If it’s mixed up like that, how is it any different from any other lump of iron?”

“The night market knows that the hard work and effort put into the iron will never go away.”

The shape of the sword may disappear, but the effort and labor contained in the iron will not disappear. That is the way of thinking of the night warlords. Namgung Myung tried to understand the thoughts of the night warlords and Dang Mujin.

Land, land, land-

Dang Mu-jin placed the hot iron on the anvil and struck it. The three ingredients mixed together.

When the iron cooled and turned black, Dang Mu-jin put the iron lump back into the furnace.

When the iron was red-hot and time had passed, he took it out and struck it again.

Even if it is the world’s best sword, the process of making it is not noble. Rather, the process of making a famous sword is noisier, louder, and more hectic than that of an ordinary sword.

The night watchmen looked on in amazement at the commotion, the slight hustle and bustle.

Unlike the night watchmen, Namgung Myung did not realize the depth contained in the hammering. And he knew that he would never realize it. That fact was a great pity.

The shape of the lump of iron changed little by little.

However, Dang Mu-jin did not arbitrarily shape the lump of iron. He did so even when he lit a candle and worked late at night.

After staying up all night, at about lunchtime the next day, the old night watchman who had handed the Baekryeonjeonggang to Dangmujin came forward and grabbed the tongs. The rough iron tongs held the red lump in place.

Dang Mu-jin struck the hammer with all his might.

Kang-

With a clear yet loud sound, sparks flew in all directions as if they were exploding.

The sword gradually takes shape.

It was an incredibly dynamic sight, but the process was very slow and sluggish. It was hard to count how many customers came to Taegeumcheolbang and then turned back.

‘···That guy Dang Mu-jin, it seems like he normally couldn’t even take a day to make a single sword.’

The lump of iron gradually flattened and grew longer, becoming an iron bar. The iron bar gradually flattened and gradually took the shape of a sword.

Namgung Myung realized at some point that he too was looking at the work as if he was possessed like the night watchmen. Could this also be a case of a false accusation?

When the sword almost took shape, Namgung Myung realized that he too had to do something.

However, Namgung Myeong knew nothing about iron.

So Namgung Myung approached the bucket containing water for pickling. The gazes of the night watchmen were focused on Namgung Myung.

Namgung Myung took out a small knife and cut his palm. Drops of blood flowed from his palm, running down his fingers and mixing into the water. There was quite a lot of blood.

I thought that Dang Mu-jin might say something like, “Are you thinking of ruining the sword?” However, Dang Mu-jin and the other field masters did not stop Namgung Myung’s actions. Just as the effort and hard work put into the iron does not disappear, so does his sincerity.

Finally, on the third day, when the sun had set beneath the mountain ridge, Dang Mu-jin dipped his sword into a bucket of water.

Cheeeeeeek-

A drop of water splashed with a loud noise. That was the last. The hammering sound that had been echoing through Taegeumcheolbang finally stopped.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the work is done.

Dang Mu-jin sat down in a corner of the blacksmith shop and began to sharpen the sword on a whetstone. Instead of sharpening it with a rough whetstone and then shaping it with a fine whetstone, he started by sharpening the sword with the finest whetstone from the beginning.

It took another four full days to sharpen the sword.

The blade was finally completed. Dang Mu-jin opened his mouth after a long time.

“Namgung Myeong.”

“huh?”

“Say thank you to the old man. Thanks to the White Lotus Sword that the old man gave you, you can now make the handle of your sword out of iron.”

Namgung Myung bowed deeply to the old man and the other generals without hesitation.

Rather, it was the night watchmen who were embarrassed.

They were not unmanned, but they knew very well how high the value of the Namgung family name was. They also knew how upright those with the Namgung surname were.

It took another full day to make the sword handle, and another day to make the scabbard.

Only then did Dang Mujin lean obliquely, leaning his back against the wall, and hand Namgung Myung his sword. It was too plain for the world’s greatest sword to be looking for its master. However, Namgung Myung knew how tired Dang Mujin was.

Namgung Myung, without knowing it, received the sword with both hands.

And without even taking off the scabbard, I grabbed the sword handle.

‘uh···?’

When you hold a new sword, it should feel unfamiliar.

But it felt all too familiar. It was a sword I had been handling for years. It felt surprisingly similar to the feeling of holding its wooden handle.

Namgung Myung raised the sword to eye level and carefully examined the handle.

The imprint of my hand that was left on the handle of the sword was also engraved on the handle of this sword.

‘···.’

Namgung Myung went outside, holding his sword. Before he knew it, a bright full moon was rising.

The night watchmen also followed Namgung Myung out. However, Dang Mujin was still sitting in the blacksmith shop, leaning against it. He didn’t even look outside.

Namgung Myung slowly drew his sword.

When a well-made sword is drawn, the scabbard and blade always make a clear sound when they meet.

But even at the moment when the black scabbard was pulled out, there was no sound, even though the blade clearly touched the horn of the scabbard.

However, Namgung Myung did not realize that fact. The sword that came out of its scabbard completely captured Namgung Myung.

The sword was so beautiful that its blade, with its faint, streamlined curves, gleamed palely under the moonlight.

An indescribable emotion surged through Namgung Myung’s chest. However, it was an emotion that did not need to be described. Any warrior would feel the same emotion the moment they saw this sword.

The night watchmen thought that Namgung Myung might even dance a sword dance.

However, Namgung Myung slowly raised his sword and slowly lowered it once. That was all. The night was still quiet. Among the night watchmen, no one realized the secret behind Namgung Myung’s sword.

Namgung Myung took a deep breath, put his sword back with trembling hands, and walked back into the blacksmith shop.

I didn’t know what to say to Dang Mu-jin.

Should I say thank you and say I don’t know how to repay the favor? Or should I just brush it off like I usually do?

But there was no need to worry, because Dang Mu-jin had already fallen asleep.

Namgung Myeong smiled brightly at the sight, then sat outside the blacksmith shop and looked at the moon.

He didn’t know what he was missing, but it was so missing that Namgung Myung couldn’t draw his sword again until the night had passed.