Thankfully, we made it out of the cave without further incident. When we returned to the blacksmith's forge, tattered and worn, he greeted us with a smirk.
“I was starting to wonder if I’d have to report two new corpses. Glad you proved wrong.”
“...”
“...”
“Relax, it’s a joke. Anyway, this radiant bloodstone… the quality is superb.”
The blacksmith picked up one of the arm-length bloodstones we had brought back and snapped it cleanly in half.
“You said you only needed one,” I noted.
“On second thought, this amount will suffice.”
“...”
We’d been had.
The blacksmith tossed the bloodstone into the furnace and stretched with a satisfied yawn.
“It’ll take so ti for the stone to lt, and even longer to temper it for use. I’d prefer not to be interrupted, so go wait outside.”
“And the leftover bloodstone?” I asked.
“What, you want it back? Forget it. Selling this stuff is a hassle—it requires complicated channels, and few people even recognize its value.”
“I don’t want it back. I want you to use it,” I said, motioning toward Number 29.
“It seems her sword could use more than just basic repairs. If you’d apply the remaining bloodstone to it as well, I’d appreciate it.”
“...That’s hardly necessary for a sword that only needs minor maintenance.”
“Please. That was the deal, wasn’t it?”
“You’re stubborn,” he said with a click of his tongue.
“Fine. But don’t go around telling people I had extra bloodstone. Keep your mouth shut. Got it?”
“Of course. Having received your work, I’m bound to silence.”
“Well, at least you’re not a sucker,” he muttered.
Number 29, startled, hesitated before giving a small nod. She didn’t say the words, but it was her best attempt at expressing gratitude to a “man.”
I said nothing, simply waiting until the blacksmith finished his work.
After a night spent outside the forge, the blacksmith erged, sweat-drenched, carrying our swords.
“They’re done.”
The blade tempered with bloodstone glead with a new, vivid hue. At first glance, it looked like steel, but when sunlight hit it, a faint crimson shimr danced along the surface.
I ran my fingers over the blade. The edge felt alive, sharp enough to cut at a re touch.
“Impressive work,” I remarked.
“I’ve forged hundreds of blades in my ti. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d survive those bats and actually bring back the bloodstone.”
“Luck was on my side.”
“Luck is a skill in its own right. Let know if you ever want to try this again. I’ll make you an even better blade if we cross paths.”
I sheathed the sword at my hip.
“This one is more than enough.”
“Not greedy, are you?”
“Too much greed leads to ruin, doesn’t it?”
“That sword ans a lot to you, huh?”
“It’s one of the few connections I’ve made since deciding to live for myself.”
I smiled faintly.
“Few people have ever shown kindness, so it holds that much more value.”
“Fancy words. You could’ve been a rchant.”
“I chose the sword. I’ll stick with it.”
“Not one to back down, are you? Go on, then. I wouldn’t mind seeing you again.”
We returned to the sect, and Number 29 let out a gasp as she admired her repaired blade in the sunlight.
“It sparkles red.”
“So does mine.”
“...Did you pair them on purpose?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You didn’t, right?”
I felt annoyed.
“Hand it over. I’ll get you a new one.”
“N-no way! I was just joking! Don’t take my sword!”
Bickering, we made our way back to the sect. After a brief inspection, life returned to its usual routine.
However, I had no intention of diving into training just yet. I had a gift to deliver to soone who deserved it.
I requested a private audience, a request unlikely to be granted, yet the Blood Demon Division leader eventually appeared.
“...You want to et her?”
“Yes. I have sothing to deliver.”
His scarred face twisted with doubt before he sighed.
“Fine. Return to your quarters for now.”
A week later, I received the summons. Under Number 29’s envious gaze, I left the sect with the division leader.
Following the path we had taken before, I arrived at the small building where Ilma had once hosted .
Seated at a desk with a cup of tea and a stack of docunts, the masked woman greeted coldly.
“Why did you call ?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Your jokes are as irritating as ever. If that’s the real reason, I’ll cut your head off.”
I placed the sword, the manual, and the ornate box on the table. Ilma pushed aside her papers and reached for the items.
“What’s this?”
“The relics of Bing Baekseol, the Ice Sovereign of the North Sea.”
“What?”
Her movents quickened as she inspected the sword, the manual, and the box.
“...”
A biting chill radiated from the treasures as Ilma examined the manual with a furrowed brow.
“Where did you find these?”
“By chance. While mining for bloodstone to repair my sword, I stumbled upon a hidden chamber.”
“You expect to believe that nonsense?”
“I was fleeing vampire bats when I found it.”
“Vampire bats? Explain.”
I recounted the events, and by the end, Ilma rolled up her papers and smacked on the head.
“Can’t go a single day without causing trouble, can you?”
“...”
“Didn’t I tell you to stop puffing up your chest like a child? Are you an idiot?”
“...But I brought back treasures.”
“Tch.”
Ilma set down the manual and opened the box. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.
“This chilling aura... no need to test its authenticity. You’re lucky, Jeokwoon.”
“Thank you.”
“But why bring this to ?”
“When I found them, you were the first person who ca to mind.”
“...”
“So I brought them to you.”
I glanced at her face, though her mask made it hard to gauge her reaction.
“No other reason?”
“None.”
“Fine. Leave.”
“Yes.”
I stood and began to leave, content to have fulfilled my purpose. To , those treasures were nothing compared to the life I had been given.
As I stepped away, Ilma stopped .
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“You really don’t want anything?”
Her voice carried a peculiar edge.
“I just wanted to bring them to you. That’s all.”
“Why?”
“I already told you—you were the first person I thought of.”
Ilma fell silent, scrutinizing for a mont before forcing to sit back down.
“The Ice Sovereign’s elixir. It’s not sothing an ordinary person can consu. Only a mber of the Ice Palace could safely use it. The sa goes for the weapon—it requires their martial arts to wield properly.”
“I see.”
“The manual ntions this, but it’s incomplete in parts. Bing Baekseol’s condition must have deteriorated as she wrote it. There are sections that need reinterpretation.”
“Many of the passages seed incoherent, and so were illegible.”
“Even so, her techniques are famous. The White Ice Divine Art is said to freeze one’s limbs upon impact. It’s an imnsely valuable martial art.”
Ilma’s gaze lingered on .
“And you brought it to .”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“...?”
I paused, realizing what she wanted. Ah, the real reason.
“In truth, I’m just happy to have brought you sothing,” I said.
“...What?”
“I’ve always wanted to give you sothing, but I never had anything to offer. Now, I finally feel like I’ve done sothing right.”
“...”
“I’ll bring you more if I find anything else.”
Ilma sighed, placing the treasures back in front of .
“Take them back.”
“Pardon?”
“I have no use for them. The Ice Palace’s techniques? They’re valuable, yes. But not to . The Five Outer Palaces are too far removed from the Cult to be politically relevant. And I already practice the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. I’m not about to switch techniques now.”
“...I see.”
“Don’t look so disappointed. Honestly...”
She cleared her throat awkwardly.
“I understand why you ca to . That’s enough. Your effort was comndable.”
“Then what should I do with these?”
“Keep them.”
“But I also practice the Gucheon Blood Demon Art.”
“I’m not telling you to learn them. Sell them. With the right buyer, you could earn enough to live comfortably for a lifeti. Just be cautious about whom you sell them to.”
“Wouldn’t you...”
“I don’t need them. Take them back.”
Ilma added as an afterthought, “And don’t even think about learning that art. It relies on feminine energy. If a man tries to practice it, the side effects are catastrophic.”
“...”
She reached out, hesitated, then pinched my cheek.
“Idiot. You’re going to get yourself killed with all the trouble you cause. Value your life, you fool.”
For a mont, I thought I saw her smile.
***
Ilma fiddled with the docunts on her desk.
Jeokwoon had already left, and so had the Blood Demon Division leader. While her subordinates were stationed at a distance for security, the space between them was wide enough that she might as well have been alone.
Once she finished the administrative work in front of her, her day would be over. She prepared to turn the page but found herself continuously toying with its edge instead.
"You were the first person who ca to mind."
“...Tch.”
Summoning him out of the blue, only for him to suddenly present her with Bing Baekseol’s martial arts legacy—who could have predicted such a thing? To top it off, he claid with his own mouth that he didn’t expect anything in return.
At first, she hadn’t believed him. She even tested him, tilting her head in a dismissive gesture, half-expecting him to hesitate or retract his words.
But he’d stood up imdiately.
As if he truly wanted nothing.
The martial arts of the Ice Sovereign were priceless. The sword and the elixirs alone were proof of their extraordinary value. Even an idiot like Jeokwoon must have realized their worth. Yet, he had brought them to her.
And he had ant to simply leave them behind.
Why?
"I’ve always wanted to give you sothing, but I never had anything to offer."
Because he recognized their value and wanted her to have them.
“...”
Had anyone ever said such a thing to her before? She was Ilma of the Eight Demonic Generals, the terrifying Thousand-Blood Blade Fiend.
Any good mories with Jeokwoon? None ca to mind. She’d mostly just beaten him up. Sure, she’d taught him a few things now and then, but that was only because his incompetence irritated her.
She was the Demon Cult’s hound, nothing more. She felt no particular affection toward him, just a passing curiosity at most.
And yet...
"I feel like I’ve finally accomplished sothing."
What an absurd thing to say. Desperately wanting to give sothing to soone who had tornted him? Even if she’d done a few things for him, what kind of fool would do that?
...Still, the way his cheeks puffed out ever so slightly, the faintly crestfallen look on his face—it was...
“Kind of cute...”
Wait. What?
Ilma imdiately erased the thought from her mind. That couldn’t be right. He was just a mutt. A useless, scrappy dog, nothing more.
She cleared her throat awkwardly and returned her focus to the docunts. Calmly, she tried to imrse herself in the paperwork again.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t concentrate.
In the end, Ilma had to spend the entire night catching up on her neglected duties.
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