“What kind of sword do you wish the legendary Volcano Sword to be?”

Mu-hwi was momentarily at a loss for words at Seong Ju-tae’s question. A sword just needed to be sharp and unbreakable, didn’t it?

“What do you mean by ‘what kind of sword’?”

Seong Ju-tae smiled at Mu-hwi’s puzzled expression.

“The will or desire you imbue into the sword. The sword’s intent. In martial arts, it’s akin to the spirit or intent behind a move. Blacksmiths infuse their intent into the metal with every strike of the hammer.”

Seong Ju-tae glanced at the plum blossom sword hanging at Mu-hwi’s waist.

“When I forged the plum blossom sword, I hoped it would protect the disciples of the Volcano Sect, that they would wield it to uphold justice, and that the names of the Volcano Sect and the plum blossom sword would be renowned throughout the world. I hammered these three intents into the sword. You may not realize it, but this intent is crucial in crafting a sword.”

Seong Ju-tae spoke with pride as he looked at Mu-hwi.

“And the disciples of the Volcano Sect who wielded the plum blossom sword never betrayed its intent.”

Mu-hwi remained silent, his brows furrowing slightly.

The intent to be imbued in the sword of the Volcano Swordmaster.

Mu-hwi had already given this some thought and quickly found his answer.

“To be remembered for a long time.”

“Oh?”

Seong Ju-tae let out a short exclamation, having expected something more along the lines of elevating the Volcano Sect to the greatest in the world or protecting it.

“Tell me more.”

Seong Ju-tae looked at Mu-hwi with genuine interest.

Mu-hwi gently caressed the scabbard of the plum blossom sword.

To be remembered forever held many meanings for him.

“The intent I speak of is…”

The Volcano Swordmaster was no longer just the top martial artist representing the Volcano Sect.

Under Mu-hwi’s leadership, the Plum Blossom Pavilion was established, and the future Volcano Swordmaster would also oversee both the Plum Blossom Pavilion and the sect’s martial arts, ensuring they continued to evolve and never stagnate.

The late master, who worried about the sect until his last breath.

His will to revive the declining Volcano Sect and transform its stagnant martial arts.

Mu-hwi hoped that this will and desire would be passed down through the sword to future Volcano Swordmasters.

That the plum blossoms of the Volcano Sect would continue to bloom for generations.

‘That’s why I wanted to use the black iron.’

The black iron used in the Sword Ghost’s black iron sword was something the late master had deemed unnecessary, so he had given it to the Sword Ghost without hesitation.

Since the role and meaning of the Volcano Swordmaster had changed from the late master to Mu-hwi, he wanted to use the black iron touched by both the late master and the Sword Ghost in the Volcano Swordmaster’s sword.

‘And Zaha.’

The Zaha (Purple Mist) he gained while creating the Zaha Divine Art.

The realization that the new connections he made in his second life had become a world that supported and embraced him.

He wanted to imbue the sword with the personal meaning of never forgetting Zaha.

“That’s quite meaningful. A good intent for a sword.”

Mu-hwi shared only what was appropriate for Seong Ju-tae to hear, and Seong Ju-tae nodded in understanding.

“I have some words I’d like engraved on the blade.”

“Go on.”

“Zaha Simmyung.”

Zaha Simmyung (Purple Mist Heart Inscription).

To inscribe Zaha in his heart.

Zaha represented the will of the late master and Mu-hwi, and Simmyung meant to remember it for generations.

“Zaha Simmyung… It could even be the name of the sword.”

Seong Ju-tae murmured, and Mu-hwi nodded in agreement.

“I plan to call this sword Simmyung Sword. Though its name may change in the future.”

“Indeed, it will.”

Understanding Mu-hwi’s words, Seong Ju-tae nodded.

When the Simmyung Sword, after many years, had communicated and resonated with countless Volcano Swordmasters and finally transformed into a divine weapon.

The Simmyung Sword would be known as the Zaha Divine Sword.

* * *

The lake of the Eternal Golden Turtle.

Near the usually tranquil lake, the heavy sound of metal rang out repeatedly.

“Ugh.”

The Eternal Golden Turtles, letting out low cries, watched the humans playing around them.

Though it was a bit noisy, it was entertaining to watch humans, a sight they hadn’t seen in centuries.

Clang!

Dokgo Yul twisted his waist dramatically, unleashing a powerful strike with his heavy sword. The sword tore through the air with a fearsome momentum.

But Mu-hwi merely bent his knees slightly and lightly lifted the plum blossom sword.

Bang!

A suppressed sound erupted as Dokgo Yul was pushed back. Even though he lowered his stance to absorb the shock, his feet left deep grooves in the ground.

In that moment, Mu-hwi, with his hands behind his back, closed the distance in a single bound, swinging the plum blossom sword vertically.

“Ugh!”

Dokgo Yul barely managed to block with his heavy sword, but Mu-hwi’s strike was overwhelmingly powerful. It felt as if the sky was falling along with the plum blossom sword.

Dokgo Yul, with his thighs bulging, gritted his teeth and tried to withstand it, but the plum blossom sword pressed down gently yet firmly.

Under the immense pressure on his heavy sword, Dokgo Yul had no choice but to drop to one knee.

Crack!

As cracks spread beneath Dokgo Yul’s feet, the force within the plum blossom sword dissipated in an instant.

“That’s enough.”

“Ugh!”

As Mu-hwi withdrew the plum blossom sword, the oppressive weight vanished. Dokgo Yul sat back heavily, gasping for breath.

“I told you, it’s not just about making the sword heavy.”

“Mm…”

Dokgo Yul flinched at Mu-hwi’s low voice, shrinking his shoulders and letting out a small groan.

Mu-hwi was training Dokgo Yul using the Iron Plum Sword Technique.

He couldn’t openly teach the Dokgo Sword Technique, but he offered various effective tips by intertwining it with the Iron Plum Sword Technique.

“But reading the flow from the movement of hands and feet, and then piercing through it… Isn’t it difficult to see through the movements of a martial artist more skilled than oneself?”

In reality, Dokgo Yul tried to predict Mu-hwi’s moves by observing his movements, but it only left him feeling more confused.

“As one’s level increases, their techniques become more refined. But the fundamental flow remains unchanged. You need to develop the eyes to see that flow. You remember what I said at the beginning, right?”

“Yi Yi Gwan Ji.”

Yi Yi Gwan Ji (One Principle Penetrates All).

A principle Mu-hwi was trying to teach Dokgo Yul, emphasizing the ability to see through the essence of a master’s techniques and movements.

If Dokgo Yul could train his perception to see through the opponent’s flow and continuously advance and attack, the Dokgo Sword Technique, which relied on breaking the opponent’s flow, would truly shine.

As Dokgo Yul pondered the concept Mu-hwi had given him, he suddenly recalled something and asked.

“Wasn’t it the same when you broke the Black Iron Sword of the White-Faced Ogre? I couldn’t see it clearly, but it seemed like you predicted the White-Faced Ogre’s movements.”

Mu-hwi’s movements back then seemed to skip several steps in the exchange, reaching out with an incomprehensible strike.

Watching Dokgo Yul deep in thought, Mu-hwi casually brought up a topic.

“According to what my master said, the Sword Ghost also trained with him at the Volcano Sect, leaving sword marks. He was contemplating a new sword technique.”

Dokgo Yul looked up in surprise at Mu-hwi’s words.

“Really?”

“Yes. This Iron Plum Sword Technique was inspired by the training sessions between my master and the Sword Ghost.”

“Can I see those sword marks?”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t seen them myself. But if I find them, I’ll make sure you can see them too.”

Dokgo Yul’s eyebrows, which had been raised high, drooped in disappointment.

“That’s a shame.”

It was true that the Swordmaster and the Sword Ghost had trained together, but the story about the Sword Ghost leaving sword marks at the Volcano Sect was a fabrication.

‘It’ll be easier to pass it on later.’

Having laid the groundwork now, Mu-hwi thought it would be easier to pass on the new Dokgo Sword Technique to Dokgo Yul in the future.

‘Of course, revealing that I’m the Sword Ghost would be the easiest.’

But Mu-hwi hadn’t yet decided whether he should tell Dokgo Yul that he was Dokgo Heon in his past life.

He thought it would be simple to just say he was Dokgo Heon, but the words wouldn’t come easily, so he needed more time to think.

‘There might be a more suitable time to tell him later.’

Mu-hwi quietly stepped back, watching Dokgo Yul, who had slipped into meditation.

“Haaap!”

Elsewhere, Mu-hwa was letting out a spirited shout as he climbed a cliff. Unlike usual, he was using only his feet, not his hands.

Running vertically up the cliff as if it were flat ground, Mu-hwa’s body gradually tilted until he finally fell.

Mu-cheol, who was waiting below, caught Mu-hwa.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mu-cheol hyung.”

Jumping down from Mu-cheol’s arms, Mu-hwa smacked his lips and looked up at the cliff.

“I think I got higher than before.”

“You managed twenty steps, so you’ve improved a lot.”

At Mu-jin’s words, Mu-hwa nodded in satisfaction. Initially, he couldn’t even manage five steps.

“Still, how does the senior brother climb all the way to the top using only the Plum Blossom Steps?”

“Because he’s the senior brother.”

Mu-cheol’s succinct answer made Mu-hwa nod in understanding.

“Let me try this time.”

Mujin, who had been waiting nearby, launched himself toward the cliff with a powerful leap.

Like a dancer unfurling a fan, Mujin soared upward, his feet briefly touching the cliff before he too began to fall. Next, it was Mucheol’s turn to hurl himself at the cliff.

From a distance, Muhui watched silently as his disciples repeatedly climbed the cliff, honing their skills with the Amhyangpyo technique.

During their stay at the Hwagacheol Workshop, Muhui and his group descended the cliff daily to train at its base.

The area around the lake of Mannyeongumgu was rich with spiritual energy and natural vitality, making it an ideal training ground. The results were evident in the increased efficiency of their practice.

Thus, Muhui brought Dokgoyul and the disciples to the cliff’s base, pushing them to train and climb the cliff every day.

Though their groans of exhaustion filled the air, Muhui paid them little mind. He could see their climbing speed improving with each passing day.

“About a month, they said.”

The creation of the Simyeong Sword wouldn’t take long, as the Hwagacheol Workshop had already begun crafting the Plum Blossom Sword some time ago.

The process involved adapting the new materials Muhui had procured into a unique blend for the Simyeong Sword.

“I wish this month would pass quickly.”

Eager for the completion of the Simyeong Sword, Muhui began his meditation.

* * *

Whoosh!

Clang! Clang!

In the largest furnace of the Hwagacheol Workshop, massive flames roared and danced.

The flames, shifting between blue and white, filled the vast furnace that occupied the entire second floor. The artisans around it were drenched in sweat.

“The fire’s faltering. Reduce the pitch coal and add more red-white coal.”

“Yes, Master!”

Seong Jutae, while monitoring the flames, listened intently to the sound of hammers striking metal.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

He had reached a point where he could assess the quality of the sword being forged just by the sound of the hammering.

Even as sweat trickled into his eyes, stinging them, Seong Jutae didn’t flinch, his focus unwavering on the flames.

Then, the sound he had been waiting for came from behind him.

“Father, we’ve brought it.”

Turning around, Seong Jutae saw his son, Seong Seokjong, and the other artisans entering the workshop, each carrying a wooden box.

“How’s the condition?”

“Perfectly refined. The fragrance is stronger than ever.”

At Seong Seokjong’s words, Seong Jutae walked over and opened the lid of the long container his son had brought.

Inside was a pale pink liquid—Plum Blossom Water.

Made from the spring water of the lake Muhui had brought, this Plum Blossom Water boasted a richer fragrance than any the workshop had ever produced.

The delicate scent quickly spread, providing relief to the artisans who had been struggling to breathe in the intense heat of the furnace.

“Excellent!”

Seong Jutae inspected the other materials.

From the purple gold sand to the rare ingredients the workshop had collected over generations, he meticulously checked each one, finally examining the newest addition.

A dark blue powder.

Each grain of this powder shimmered with a mysterious blue light, as if ground from precious gems.

It was the powdered horn of the Dokgak Hwamang.

Having confirmed the quality of the horn powder, Seong Jutae turned his attention back to the furnace.

The flames, which had been shifting between blue and white, now glowed a pure, misty white.

Inside, metals like Hancheol, Hyeoncheol, Baekryeonjeonggang, and Jeonggeum were melting, combined according to the workshop’s secret formula.

“All the materials are ready.”

With a slightly trembling voice, Seong Jutae grasped his hammer, gently caressing the anvil beneath it.

The hammer and anvil, passed down through generations of the Hwagacheol Workshop.

How many Plum Blossom Swords had been born from this hammer and anvil?

Now, it was time to forge a single, unparalleled sword for the Volcano Sword Saint.

“Jahasimyeong…”

Seong Jutae murmured the word Muhui had given him, embedding the sword’s essence in his heart.

Only then, when he hammered in a state of no-mind, would the essence naturally infuse the sword.

“Let’s begin!”

At Seong Jutae’s command, the artisans moved in perfect harmony.

Clang!

The rhythmic sound of hammering filled the workshop.

“I’ll pour my life’s work as a blacksmith into this sword.”

As Seong Jutae hammered, heat radiated from his body like flames, and his hair began to rise.

Seong Seokjong and the other artisans watched in silence as the old blacksmith poured his soul into the work.

* * *

“Go ahead, open it.”

At Seong Jutae’s words, Muhui examined the wooden box before him.

The long box, shaped to hold a sword, bore the engraved words “Simyeong”—Heart Inscription.

“I’ll pour my life’s work as a blacksmith into this sword.” End

“How did such a sword come to be?”