Chapter 312

Chapter 312 What was the greatest risk when carving a new path? While opinions differed, for Se-Hoon, it was forgetting the path one had already trod. Even if one lost their way, they could always just retrace their steps and start over as long as they remembered the path they took. Forgetting meant they had to wander around endlessly. That was why it was ideal to just avoid such situations in the first place, but when people did that, they tended to more actively encounter what they were avoiding. So then how would one break through when that time came? “We’re here for inspection!” The solution was to just get someone else to force them back to their starting point. Clang! Se-Hoon and Li Kenxie’s swords collided, causing dark crimson sparks to erupt in every direction from the meeting point. Anyone could see that the two clashing swords were identical in both appearance and performance. But while successfully replicating something to such an extent within a single day was already an impressive feat, Meirin’s standards were far from lenient. “Fail.” Dark crimson flames violently burst forth between the two combatants, sending Li Kenxie flying across the ground, tumbling helplessly. “Urgh...” With only the hilt of his sword left, Li Kenxie sprawled on the ground, smoke rising from his entire body. Outwardly, he appeared to be suffering from only some mild burns, much like the day before, but that wasn’t actually the case. Sizzle! The dark crimson flames seeped into his wounds, spreading further within him like a wildfire. And upon feeling that, Li Kenxie’s eyes widened. It’s spreading through my blood? As he reeled from the unexpected effect, the flames of Bloodfire Rain further expanded throughout his body. “Ugh...” If it were anyone else, such an injury would have been fatal long ago. Yet Li Kenxie endured the pain, even suppressing the flames within him. “Interesting.” Seeing him stand up firmly, Meirin, who was about to take something out from her void pocket, paused. “Since he can endure that much, we should just leave him alone. Let’s go.” Without another word, Meirin turned around and walked away. But instead of following, Se-Hoon just watched her, only going after some hesitation and placing Bloodfire Rain—its flames waning—in front of Li Kenxie first. “It’s not just plain fire; think of it as poison. If you can push it out of your bloodstream, it’ll subside quickly.” “You...” Though Li Kenxie wanted to ask who they truly were, the pain coursing through his body stopped the question from coming out of his mouth. “Just think of us as some crazy lunatics,” Se-Hoon said with a bitter smile, guessing his question upon seeing Li Kenxie’s current state. And with that, Se-Hoon vanished as well, leaving Li Kenxie alone in the clearing. Are they sent by some kind of faction? But I’ve never heard of a blacksmith like them... With only the flames swirling in his veins for company, Li Kenxie scowled and fell into thought. Who were those two, and what was their goal? If they were from the Demon Force, it would have been simpler to understand. Yet they weren’t, making their goal even harder to guess. The more he thought, the more questions piled up—a spiral into an endless loop. Such endless reflection had once been Li Kenxie’s secret that made him a better blacksmith than others, but it offered no help now. No matter how much he pondered, he simply couldn’t attain the epiphany needed to overcome the wall he was currently facing. This is all meaningless. In the past, small realizations had come to him, cascaded like dominos until they toppled the wall that blocked his way. Now, however, he just felt like he was cramming himself into a small room with useless junk, none of the previous sensation from before. And yet, Li Kenxie couldn’t stop himself from thinking. After all, it was the method that had brought him so far—it made up his very synesthetic mindscape. Sizzle! Forcefully woken up from his thoughts, Li Kenxie grimaced, his attention drawn to the heat surging within him. “...I guess I don’t have the time to stand around idly.” He didn’t know what was exactly happening within his body, but to survive, he had no choice but to follow their instructions. Staggering, Li Kenxie examined the flames coursing through his bloodstream. “Hmph!” Slash! Forcibly widening the wound on his side with his fingers, Li Kenxie infused his heart with mana, expelling the poison-laden flames from his blood. Fwoosh! Along with the flames, dark crimson blood gushed from his side. Watching it, Li Kenxie stopped the bleeding only when he confirmed that the flow had turned clear. He then picked up Bloodfire Rain, which Se-Hoon had left behind. “I will succeed... this time.” Staggering back to his workshop, he gathered the materials and positioned himself in front of the massive forge to begin the forging. Clang! Clang! From sunrise to sunset, he worked without rest, pouring all his efforts into the process. Another full day passed, and the two figures returned. “Fail.” Boom! Again, Li Kenxie’s sword was shattered without much resistance. Upon realizing that he had failed again, Li Kenxie was consumed by shame and anger—which he proceeded to channel into his forging. Mana is spread across the flame like tiny blood vessels. If that’s the structure... A newfound certainty took root, and within half a day, he forged a new blade. Boom! Testing it against the blade of the two who arrived earlier than before, Li Kenxie’s blade finally withstood the flames when they erupted, earning a nod from Meirin. “Pass. Now, onto the next one.” “Next one?” Unable to help himself from asking, Li Kenxie barely had the time to process his confusion before Se-Hoon thrust his palm into his chest, pulling out another weapon. Compared to the previous sword, the new spear, shimmering with silver and blue, was no less impressive. “You’ve got to be kidding me...” Li Kenxie’s face twisted in frustration. Boom! Li Kenxie was sent flying once more, back to square one. Like that, every time he successfully replicated the weapon the two hit him with, they brought out a new one, forcing him to start over. The moment he thought he had reached the end, a new beginning awaited. It was a maddening experience, yet oddly, it wasn’t entirely bad. I guess humans really are creatures of adaptation... At first, recreating weapons with such unique features felt far too overwhelming. But as the days passed by, the process grew faster and easier, to the point where it felt like he had always known the techniques to create them. Although Li Kenxie dismissed that thought immediately. Focus on forging for now. Clang! Clang! Before long, he could complete the weapons in less than three hours, which would be when the two appeared again, starting the cycle of forging and testing once more. Eventually, after days of such a repetitive life, something changed: the two stopped leaving the workshop. “No point going back if you’re working this quickly. Just keep going,” said Meirin. “Don’t mind us; just focus on your work.” Heeding her words, Li Kenxie continued his forging, occasionally observing the two. Meirin spent her days lazily smoking, while Se-Hoon wandered the clearing with an enigmatic expression. No matter how he saw it, they didn’t seem too hostile, which only deepened Li Kenxie’s curiosity. But no matter what he asked, they ignored him. Are they really just lunatics? Though he cursed his misfortune of meeting these two, he had no choice but to keep working. Day after day, Li Kenxie forged weapons and tested them, while also eavesdropping on their conversations. And soon, he uncovered a shocking truth. “Hmm. His instincts are impressive, unlike someone who took over a week just to replicate the simplest weapon.” “Well, he’s not me, right?” “True. He’s faster, and you’re slower.” He learned that although the two looked like peers, they were actually master and apprentice. Not only that, he learned that the insane ordeal that he was enduring was, in fact, a training method. They really were just lunatics... The master who invented such a method and the apprentice who endured it for over six months were anything but normal. Once again, Li Kenxie lamented his misfortune. But he still continued the enigmatic training, despite being uncertain of its purpose. Clang! The materials were always prepared in advance, and whenever his injuries worsened, they would stab him with a crimson dagger that instantly restored him. Lightning-infused axes, shields swirling with storms, gauntlets made of ice, greatswords that shook the earth—he recreated countless weapons, learning and growing. He was given no time to catch his breath in between, but a strange sense of familiarity emerged despite the urgency. This... this reminds me of the good old days. Strange towers and a dark abyss had appeared out of the blue one day, plunging the world into chaos. Eventually, the emergence of the Emperor of Ascension and the Seeker had brought a measure of stability, but life before their arrival was nothing short of a relentless war. With scarce materials and inadequate skills, he couldn’t catch up with the demand for weapons. Even when he wanted a moment's reprieve, the radio would broadcast daily reports of thousands dead, pushing his hands into motion. Clang! Clang! Hammering away, Li Kenxie’s thoughts drifted back in time, memories bubbling to the surface. And amidst his retrospection, he naturally arrived at a single question: Why did I become a blacksmith in the first place? Was it because blacksmithing had been the family trade for generations? All those years ago, he had learned the ways of blacksmithing begrudgingly, but after the world changed, he started looking at it from a different perspective. Climbing the Tower of Heroes had granted him a body far stronger than the average person, and with it, he had easily bested monsters and demons alike on the battlefield. If he had wanted to remain on the front lines, nothing would have stopped him. Yet, for some reason, he had returned. Was I afraid of the battlefield? Not once had such a thought crossed his mind. Did I ever enjoy forging something? Whether the forging went well or not, he always felt inexplicable anger bubbling within him. Did I miss this moment? Forging weapons always felt like a stifling task to him. No matter how much he reflected, the only thought that rose was his deep-seated dissatisfaction with being a blacksmith. So then what was it that drove him to stand before the forge time and time again? Countless scattered thoughts began converging into one, and soon, Li Kenxie’s gaze instinctively focused on a single point. Fwoosh- He stared at the massive flames roaring within the forge, melting countless materials into a unified whole. He saw that sight every day, yet only now did it bring to mind the day he first awakened his mana. It was on that day that his own synesthetic mindscape vividly unfolded before him. ...It was fire. A fire that burned away the chaos clouding his thoughts, scorching his mind clear. That was his true synesthetic mindscape—the path he was meant to follow from the very beginning. Whooom- The forge’s flames leaped toward Li Kenxie, engulfing him as their color began changing. It consumed the countless thoughts that had cluttered his mind, and even the burdens that had felt cumbersome, leaving his spirit hollow and unburdened. “Aah...” The indescribable relief made him want to discard even his physical form, but he knew that wasn’t what he truly desired. I want to unify everything with flames. The two standing in front of him, this mountain, and even the entire world—he wanted to embrace it all within these flames. And that infinite longing had blossomed within him, shaping his soul into its ultimate form. Infinite Nirvana: Selfless Flame The Sacred Craftsman’s power manifested within Se-Hoon’s dream. Fwoosh! The flames radiating from Li Kenxie’s body engulfed Huangshan, continuing to spread even further, as though they wanted to set the entire world ablaze. But it was not a fire burning to destroy—it burned to embrace and unify everything. Witnessing the burning world, Se-Hoon finally understood both the nature behind Li Kenxie’s power and... the truth behind the so-called spontaneous combustion syndrome. “It’s not destroying the synesthetic mindscape... but healing it.” The world perceived spontaneous combustion syndrome as a condition that destroyed one’s synesthetic mindscape and burned the body to ashes. But in actuality, its effects were the opposite. When the patient’s synesthetic mindscape collapsed due to chaos and disorder, the Sacred Craftsman’s flame would ignite to burn away the turbulence and restore clarity. But ordinary people... they can’t escape the sense of liberation that comes with it, relishing it until they end up burning themselves away. While they might have survived if they resist slightly, how could ordinary people endure a Perfect One’s power? Moreover, most victims were already weakened, their very images crumbling. To them, the release from pain must have been impossible to resist. “The intention was noble, but... the result is a cruel flame.” Meirin glanced at flames on her body, brushing them off effortlessly with a flick of her hand. Fwoosh! Se-Hoon stared at her, stunned. The flames had fallen away so easily that it seemed almost absurd. “...How did you do that?” “Why would I ever merge with such a foolish flame? I’m already perfect as I am.” The essence of Soul Honing was to maintain one’s soul in a pure state. As such, for someone like Meirin, Li Kenxie’s flames were utterly useless, easily dismissed. “This is how it should be for anyone who can use Soul Honing. But you... you’ve been struggling up till now because...” “...The impurities in my soul.” And now that he understood Li Kenxie’s power, the only thing left was to remove them from his soul and restore his body to its proper state. Fwoosh- Unlike Meirin, Se-Hoon’s body remained caught in an ambiguous state. The flames couldn’t be shaken off easily, but neither could they consume him entirely. He exhaled deeply, trying to focus. Removing only the impurities should be simple enough. With Meirin’s help, he could extract everything that wasn’t truly him and discard it—something he could have, in truth, done since obtaining the Demonic Blood Crystal. But even now, when the moment had come, hesitation gripped him. What if these impurities are the triggers for my regression...? What if getting rid of them disrupted his ability to use the Demonic Blood Crystal and his unique skills? Shouldn’t he confirm their true nature first? But at that moment, as if reading his thoughts, Meirin lit a new cigarette and calmly spoke up. “I’m not going to force you, but staying like this won’t do you any good.” “Huh? What do you mean, no good?” “Now that you’ve fully grasped the Sacred Craftsman’s power, won’t the flames that burn your body grow stronger in the real world? If you don’t stabilize your synesthetic mindscape soon, you’re going to have to pay a price.” The difference between a half-understood technique and one mastered to perfection was vast—enough to make them feel like entirely separate abilities. And if the technique was a Perfect One’s power, that gap would be exponentially greater. If Se-Hoon didn’t take care of the impurities in his soul and calm the flames, he would risk severe injury—or worse. ...I guess I have no choice. What difference would it make if he understood the impurities’ nature? To fully unlock his potential—and to prevent another apocalypse—he had to remove them. Resolving himself, Se-Hoon reached out toward Meirin. Tap- But a hand wrapped in flames grasped his shoulder before he could. Turning to face the owner, Se-Hoon saw that though Li Kenxie was wreathed in fire, his body disintegrating, his expression was calm. “After making me suffer like this, you’re choosing the easy way out for yourself? Don’t you think that’s a bit selfish of you?” “...” Se-Hoon looked at Li Kenxie, his expression complicated. The figure before him wasn’t truly Li Kenxie or a reflection, but something in between—a pale imitation. However, the Li Kenxie before Se-Hoon now fully understood what his existence here meant. “...Did I successfully become a Perfect One out in the real world?” Se-Hoon hesitated, but then answered honestly, “Yes. It’s been about thirty-three years now.” “I see... I’ve held out for quite a while.” Li Kenxie smiled faintly, his expression relieved. “As an incomplete existence, I can’t say for certain... but are you sure those impurities of yours are truly unnecessary?” “...Then, what should I do?” Se-Hoon’s frustration boiled over. Once again, he was met with the same dilemma: accept the impurities or erase them? Instead of answering, though, Li Kenxie grinned, his fiery form flickering. “You’ll have to ask yourself that.” Whoosh! The ground beneath Se-Hoon ignited, forming a black void that swallowed him whole. “Wait—” In the blink of an eye, Se-Hoon vanished. Li Kenxie turned to Meirin. “What about you? If you follow him, you might end up separated by the Demonic Blood Crystal again.” “...” Meirin remained silent, staring down into the black void, exhaling smoke. “Then I’m not that inclined to follow him.” “Because you might lose all your memories of him?” “...” Meirin said nothing. Yet that made Li Kenxie raise an eyebrow, expressing his surprise. “I thought you didn’t really care. If that’s how you felt, you should’ve said something sooner. He might’ve treated you like his real master.” While Se-Hoon treated Meirin with some degree of respect, it was never as reverently as he would be to his actual master. But if he had known how Meirin was thinking about him, things might have been different. Hearing Li Kenxie chuckling, sounding full of regret for her, Meirin only let out a puff of smoke. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She gazed down at the void where Se-Hoon had disappeared. “A single act of disgrace in front of my student is enough for a lifetime,” she softly muttered. *** “...” Se-Hoon slowly opened his eyes, awakening to the sight of flames surrounding him and the roots of the Verdant Lotus Spear clinging tightly to his body. ...Did I almost not make it? Parts of his body were hollowed out as if eaten away, but it was nothing he couldn’t recover from. Deciding to reconstruct his body, he began channeling the Verdant Lotus Spear’s power, but at that moment, something strange started happening inside him. Woong! Looking down at the hole where his heart should have been, Se-Hoon found the Demonic Blood Crystal. And around it, flames—resembling Sacred Flames yet distinct in some subtle way—were coalescing. Slowly, the flames began taking a specific form, and before long, they reshaped themselves into a heart. This is... The clump of flames looked just like his original heart, but it felt slightly different. It made Se-Hoon hesitate, unsure whether to leave it as it was or erase it entirely. Then, finally, he made up his mind and focused the Verdant Lotus Spear’s regenerative powers around the heart. Crunch! Along with his heart, the hollowed-out parts of his body were filled in an instant, and the flames that had surrounded him began fading away as they were absorbed by his body. And at last, when every trace of flames had disappeared— [The host’s bond has grown to Lv. 3.] [Skill ‘Sever Bond’ has been added.] “...Why now?” A notification message with a completely unexpected update appeared before him.