Chapter 70: The Sword Sovereign of Purple Mist

‘That man just now……’

‘……what did he just say?’

For a moment, everyone present lost their words.

It was as if they had witnessed something unknown, the shock was that overwhelming.

“Please. Please, take me.”

“H-hu, Lord Heukya. Why are you acting this way?”

“Pull yourself together, Lord Heukya!”

“Let me go! I must become the disciple of the Divine Craftsman!”

Throwing away all sense of dignity, Dong Cheonrip was half out of his mind.

And yet, one could hardly blame him.

One only sees as much as one knows.

The item Sewoon created could never be dismissed as a mere treasure weapon.

‘Unbelievable! That… that’s a divine creation!’

The very moment he saw the sword forged by Sewoon in the smithy, Dong Cheonrip felt a shiver, as though struck by lightning.

It was the very thing he had dreamed of all his life since he first set foot on the path of a blacksmith.

But until now, he had not even grasped the smallest thread of that ultimate realm.

This was a work touched by the hand of one who had already reached it.

“Divine Craftsman……!”

“No, Lord Heukya! That boy is young enough to be your grandson! Please, get a hold of yourself!”

“I told you to move aside!”

Though others tried to restrain him, Lord Heukya could not regain his senses, endlessly repeating his plea to be taken as a disciple.

Age and seniority mattered little.

If he could but receive the teachings of the Divine Craftsman, Dong Cheonrip would have cast aside without hesitation all the wealth he had amassed and even the honor of being the Great Furnace Master of the Murim Alliance.

Thus, though the Azure Dragon Hall was shaken as if about to collapse from the uproar—

‘……no, why is that brat so calm?’

‘Hah, as if he’s been through things like this more than once.’

The very cause of this commotion, Sewoon, remained tranquil, his expression utterly unperturbed.

He merely gazed at the frenzied Dong Cheonrip with a face devoid of emotion.

Most of the elders, seeing this, could only let out exasperated sighs.

‘What kind of dogshit situation is this?!’

Yet at this moment, the one whose face twisted the most was none other than Hwangbo Geon.

The Hwangbo Clan, who endured years of being scornfully labeled as mere attendants of the Namgung Clan, had ultimately trampled over the Tang Clan and risen to stand among the Seven Great Clans.

Because of this, the one place the Hwangbo Clan had consistently suppressed and derided was none other than the Tang Clan.

Though time had long since worn down the Tang Clan’s former glory, to the point that no one now would call them beneath the Hwangbo Clan—

Even so, deep inside, both Hwangbo Geon and all of his kin held one lingering fear.

That the ‘Sichuan Tang Clan’ might one day reveal some hidden strength they had kept buried away.

‘Damn it! What the hell is Namgung Myeong doing?! He should be denouncing this as sorcery right now!’

Hwangbo Geon ground his teeth, cursing Namgung Myeong who remained in silence.

But in truth, he knew it as well.

That no one could ever call Sewoon’s power and the treasure weapon he created sorcery.

The reason was simple.

Swaaah.

Even now, the gentle breeze brushing against their noses carried a mysterious and pure energy.

The wind emanating from the treasure weapon instead raised the qi of those it touched, bolstering their strength.

It was no fraud—if anything, it was a celestial energy worthy of being called the aura of an immortal.

But just then—

Tilting his head slightly, Sewoon suddenly spoke something bewildering.

“But why is there only this one?”

“……??”

What was he suddenly saying?

Only this one?

Could it be……?

“……What do you mean by that?”

“There should have been one more, shouldn’t there?”

“W-what? Another treasure weapon?”

Impossible!

Those who had been merely puzzled now erupted in shock.

But the most shocking words were yet to come.

“You mean you forged two treasure weapons in less than half a day?”

“Yes. Though strictly speaking, I only provided ‘guidance’ for the other one, so it wasn’t exactly made by me.”

“?!?!”

“Ggururuk, ggururuk.”

“Lord Heukya! Lord Heukya! Ugh, get a hold of yourself, Lord Heukya!”

The moment Sewoon finished his words, Lord Heukya’s eyes rolled back and foam spilled from his lips as he fainted on the spot.

Such was the magnitude of the revelation.

Not only could Sewoon himself create a treasure weapon, but with a single session of instruction, he could enable another blacksmith to forge one as well.

If such a thing was truly possible, then in today’s jianghu, the worth of the Sichuan Tang Clan—

No, the worth of Tang Sewoon himself—would rise beyond words.

Already, many said the age of enlightenment had waned.

The unorthodox factions were obsessed with gathering more sorcery tools and greater treasure weapons.

The orthodox factions, bound by the Sword Emperor’s banner of pride in the Orthodox Path, lagged far behind, refusing to abandon the essence of cultivation.

But now, if such wondrous treasure weapons could be produced within the orthodox camp as well?

That meant……

‘Th-this wild brat……’

‘……might truly become the Divine Craftsman of this age?’

That Tang Sewoon might surpass not only Lord Heukya but also Baek Myogong of the White Night Ironworks, and rise as the Divine Craftsman of their generation.

“What are you waiting for! Go to the smithy at once and confirm it!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

At the irritated command of Somoon Gyeong, the head of the Court of Justice, a subordinate rushed out of the Azure Dragon Hall.

Sewoon then glanced at Peng Taesan, who was still holding the sword in a daze, and spoke quietly.

“Lord Peng.”

“Mm? What is it?”

Sewoon bowed his head respectfully.

“Though it was by the Alliance Leader’s order, I offer a formal apology for laying hands on something belonging to the Peng Clan.”

“A-apology? Think nothing of it.”

“In truth, it is hardly worthy of being called a treasure weapon. It is nothing compared to compensation, but if you wish, sometime soon I shall examine one of the clan’s items for you.”

“Thank you!”

Peng Taesan, almost without thinking, accepted Sewoon’s words.

And then, perhaps realizing the impropriety, he coughed awkwardly.

Though he ought to maintain strict neutrality until Sewoon’s creations were properly verified, there was little else he could do.

A being who could transform a mere practice sword, forged from such humble materials, into this level of mastery now offered to personally examine his treasured blade. How could one possibly refuse?

Peng Taesan too was a martial artist who revered strength above all.

Before he realized it, words leapt unbidden from his throat.

‘……He possesses the skill to forge a treasure weapon, does he.’

At that moment, Namgung Myeong’s gaze toward Sewoon had shifted as well.

Like a serpent silently watching for the weakness of a tempting prey, Namgung Myeong stared intently at him.

His lips trembled ever so slightly, subtle enough for no one to notice.

At the same time, Hwangbo Geon, who had been dazed, suddenly twitched.

“E-everyone, do not be deceived!!”

“!!”

He abruptly bellowed, his voice shaking the Azure Dragon Hall.

As all the elders looked on in bewilderment, Hwangbo Geon continued to speak.

“Yes! It is true that he possesses extraordinary blacksmithing skills! But what we must not forget is that this man attacked a member of the Murim Alliance!”

“……!”

With those words, the flow that had been turning favorably toward Sewoon shifted once again.

There was but one reason Hwangbo Geon pressed forward so zealously.

[Hwangbo Geon, repeat exactly what I say.]

It was Namgung Myeong, secretly sending him a telepathic transmission.

The intent behind such scheming was clear.

To use the pretext that Sewoon had attacked a disciple of Mount Hua, brand him a criminal, and hold him captive within the Alliance.

So that they would not return him to the Sichuan Tang Clan, but instead bind him to forge like a slave for the Murim Alliance for life.

‘And then, when the time is right, we’ll act as though we’ve saved him, bringing him into the embrace of the Namgung Clan.’

Namgung Myeong’s eyes gleamed with sinister light.

“We must reimprison him and thoroughly investigate why he attacked an Alliance member—!”

As Hwangbo Geon trumpeted like his lackey, the hall echoed with his voice.

Creak.

Suddenly, the great doors of the Azure Dragon Hall opened once more.

The elders thought perhaps it was the enforcer whom Somoon Gyeong had dispatched, returning already with another treasure weapon.

But—

“-!!”

“……!”

What appeared was someone none had expected.

“Wh-what??”

“Myeong Iljin-in!”

It was the master of Do Yecheon, who had rushed off to the Heavenly Medical Hall to check on his collapsed disciple.

One of the Ten Great Experts of the world, famed alongside Namgung Myeong as the Twin Swords protecting the Murim Alliance.

The Sect Leader of Mount Hua, the Sword Sovereign of Purple Mist, Myeong Iljin-in, had entered the Azure Dragon Hall.

“…….”

Despite the murmurs around him, the Sword Sovereign gave no reply.

He simply stood in place, his chilling eyes fixed solely on one person.

Tang Sewoon, who stood at the center of the hall.

‘……This is dangerous!’

At once, gooseflesh crawled up Jaegal Hun’s spine.

When one described the Sword Sovereign, one never omitted his principle of ‘Evil Must Be Cut Down.’

Even with a blade at his own neck, he would never compromise with demonic or heretical ways.

Any evil he beheld with his own eyes, he would cut down without hesitation.

That principle was what defined Myeong Iljin-in.

But after taking Do Yecheon as his disciple, he had become equally renowned for his sudden change of temperament—gentle and benevolent to the extreme.

Swaaah!

Yet now, Myeong Iljin-in had returned fully to his former self.

To the fearsome state of his prime, when he was the terror of the demonic path.

Something grave must have happened to Do Yecheon, who was under treatment at the Heavenly Medical Hall.

“You……!”

“W-wait, calm yourself, Myeong Iljin-in!”

Jaegal Hun shouted, rushing desperately to intercept him.

Pabat!

But the gap in cultivation was overwhelming—Myeong Iljin-in had already closed the distance to Sewoon.

‘Yes, this is it!!’

Seeing this, Hwangbo Geon clenched his fist, exulting inwardly.

Since Myeong Iljin-in regarded his disciple like his own son, he might strike down the culprit without a thought.

If that happened, all of Hwangbo Geon’s worries would be resolved in an instant.

So, what would be severed?

His arm? His leg?

Or perhaps his dantian?

Hwangbo Geon’s eyes glittered with anticipation.

And then—it happened.

Grab!

“?!”

But what followed defied everyone’s expectations.

For though Myeong Iljin-in had rushed in, he did not draw his sword.

He launched no attack at the one who had harmed his disciple.

Instead, with overwhelming force and fervor, he simply—

Suddenly drew Sewoon into his embrace.

“Khuk, thank you. Thank you, I truly thank you.”

First, Lord Heukya had knelt in tears.

And now, the Sect Leader of Mount Hua was clutching Sewoon tightly, shedding hot tears.

“?!?!”

What in the world was happening now?

All the elders, including Hwangbo Geon, could only fall into shock and terror.

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