66 – A villain who draws home.
For the next week, I almost lived with Hestosia.
In my case, it was a hardcore quest that involved not only me, but also the life of Atalanta, who was directly hated by Artemis.
Because Hestosias was the first musical instrument he had ever made, he asked every detail, under what circumstances, how to make sounds, whether the trimming shape was right, and he ordered a lot of quests to get things that couldn’t be found in the smithy and the forest. Am.
I want you to bring me an olive tree that is located deep in the Taygetos Mountains outside the forest so that not a single root is damaged.
I want you to bring repair tools used by the evil goon from the evil goon’s house located in a ruined village occupied by a group of wild boars.
I was told to mine the pearls of the mother-of-pearl oysters located deep in the sea of Poseidon and the silver ore that can only be found in the deep sea.
Each of the quests was troublesome and time-consuming.
In the end, let’s reproduce the gayageum in my memory almost perfectly in three days after the detailed adjustment is over.
For the rest of the time to prepare the materials, there were hardly any classes and I had no choice but to carry out Hestosias’ quest.
Even so, I can’t help but listen to the blacksmith’s request without saying anything.
Because Hestosias, as much as I, was serious about this matter.
He was a blacksmith who looked like he was about to spit on the floor whenever he opened his mouth.
Because when he was cutting wood with a chisel and beating silver in front of a crimson flame, he was facing his work with a reverent attitude like a praying believer, without any distractions.
It was one night when I was busy with Hestosia and work, so I couldn’t even enter.
“Ah~ What a beautiful nymph she is, and she has to spend the night with a black boy.”
“I came here paying attention to the two beautiful ladies too, right?”
“Ah, are you talking about the daughters of Artemis, Atalanta and the Nereid nymphs?”
Though blacksmiths never show their work to others.
He specially invited me to his workshop as I had to make a new musical instrument that had never been seen before in Greece based solely on my memory.
It is no exaggeration to say that he was the son of Hephaestus and a disciple of the Cyclops. His house and workshop were spacious Greek-style mansions.
It was surrounded by a large garden with a view of the sky in the middle, surrounded by a 3-story high main building and various rooms in a square shape.
With that in mind, the mansion itself was no different from a huge workshop.
Anyway, before starting work in earnest, I was simply having a snack with Hestosia, wine, and bread.
“We are almost finished. How is it, it seems to me that it has fallen out pretty nicely.”
“To be honest, just by looking at your sloppy tone, you are such a wonderful guy that I can’t believe that this beautiful guy came out of his hands.”
“Well, how is my tone?”
Hestosias grumbled with a pouting mouth, and the gayageum raised next to him was now almost returning to its original form.
I ran all the way to Mt. Taygetos, and carefully brought back one root.
If you want to make a gayageum anyway, you’ll have to trim and trim the wood. At that time, I didn’t understand why they told me to bring the whole root rather than cutting off only the part that will become the body.
But after looking at his work, I realized that he had told me to bring an olive tree alive for this purpose.
“My God, to trim a tree alive like that.”
It must have been called magic or a miracle.
My God, the mad blacksmith beat water and wood with fire and iron and adjusted the shape to his liking.
It is made into the shape of a gayageum by beating a tree with a body that has saved the tree while the tree’s roots are not yet dry.
“How on earth is that even possible?”
“I learned from the three Cyclops. This much is just leftovers. If you have a chance later, go to the Three Brothers Workshop in Sicily. You will find out what the real bizarre is.”
I genuinely admired the bizarre sight that I couldn’t describe even after seeing it with my own two eyes and praised his skill, but Hestosias only shrugged his shoulders as if it didn’t matter much.
However, the ability Hestosias showed was to turn my studies upside down.
The principle that gold removes the neck and number removes the anger never changes.
But this man removed them in exactly the reverse order, causing the gold neck to change its shape, and the fire to make the number change its course.
It wasn’t just that.
Gayageum strings are usually made of silk.
However, with normal strings, it was impossible to catch the music of the spirits of the ghosts, so all of them were cut off.
The gayageum that was presented to me was a cheonrasil made by dozens of artisans who thinly pulled out the steel of the 10,000 years.
When the sharpness was changed into an arrow and fired, the mountain split in two, and when the chill of the season was played with the sorrow of the Twelve Songs of Manghyang, the church members who had been fighting like wild boars on fire stopped fighting, tearing at their breasts and shedding tears.
The most important thing in the gayageum is the string, which is as important as the body.
Even if the body uses its mysterious magic, will this blacksmith be able to pull out a string of gold that can handle the wail of the Twelve Valleys of Mangyang, which could only have been handled at the age of 10,000 years?
I was worried.
However, he disregarded my concerns and melted the pearls and deep-sea silver that I had picked while receiving tremendous beatings and glares from Nesneria’s sisters, along with several other metals, and melted them in the fire.
A potter’s wheel is brought out of nowhere, and it is put into the wheel and turned.
“Honestly, I was wondering what this was about at the time…”
No, what kind of nonsense is it with things that people have worked hard to pick.
Even if you put molten iron into a potter’s wheel and turn it, there’s no way that it will come out.
I once thought that too.
“No, I don’t know what you’re thinking either. Put the thread in the spinning wheel and spin it, where do you spin it?”
“No, is that normal? If you put melted molten iron in a potter’s wheel and turn it, what thread comes out?”
Surprisingly, like Hestosias’ horse, a strange milky-colored metal thread was pulled out from the end of the spinning wheel.
Threads pulled out in this way were prepared by dividing them by thickness, waiting for the moment to be assembled.
You can see how the body is made by trimming trees alive, and threads are pulled out of molten metal with a spinning wheel.
I had a real feeling that this place was indeed the land of myth.
To be honest, I’ve seen Hermes and Artemis glowing too often.
“But I was busy and didn’t have time to ask. A man called your master.”
“Master? Which master? I should have one or two teachers.”
“That’s sh*t, really. Who would it be! This is the teacher who taught me this stupid hyperborean instrument!”
“Ah, Master of Ghosts from Homecoming?”
“Miang… Kweunes?”
After all, it was difficult to express Chinese characters in Greek, so Hestosias tilted his head while making a sound like a rat dying.
“Nimi, it’s hard to pronounce.”
“Deaf Homecoming. It means a demon who misses his hometown.”
“Oh, that’s a dick. Anyway, that master. What kind of person were you?”
For some reason, I was very curious about the question Hestosias asked out of nowhere.
When he got into the job, he thought he was the only one who knew nothing.
Unexpectedly, we talked about quite a lot while asking me about even the smallest things.
“Then shall we exchange stories again? I also had a question.”
“Is that so? Anyway, it’s almost finished now.”
As for the gayageum, I picked up the almost finished gayageum and began to refine it in detail.
Those that have blemishes or may interfere with sound are hammered in with a hammer containing magical power, and in the meantime, the places where they want to take root again are ground with a chisel heated in crimson fire and driven inside, he asked me.
“Then shall we hear your story first? I think hearing the story of the person who will play this and the person who played it will be a clue to completing something.”
“Well, I don’t know the details, but he was the one who didn’t want to talk about himself.”
All I knew about the Ghost of Homecoming was that he looked more like a Taoist than a Demonic Cult leader, and that he was a wandering musician who lost his hometown and drifted into Murim a long time ago.
“The thing that made me happy was that he had a face that looked like he was going to win at any moment. A shaggy forehead with a pure white beard. The old man’s eyes sparkle like morning stars, but how nasty his temper is.”
However, as a result of investigating the fact that he used the gayageum as his main instrument and the origins of the 12 pieces he wrote, I found out a little unexpected fact.
“That human. He was from the same country as me, maybe?”
“Same country? There must have been a lot of countries here and there like this f*cking town?”
“If you talk in detail, it’s complicated, so let’s just say it roughly.”
To be honest, it’s a bit long.
My original hometown is Korea in the 21st century, and the hometown of the wandering ghost was a small country in Korea long ago.
Even when he was inaugurated as the head of the Demonic Cult, it was a long time after the annihilation of the country, and even after becoming the suzerain of Manma, it is said that he always missed his hometown and wrote songs.
“The 12 songs of Myahyang that came down to me after being made like that. It was a masterpiece of his life, and a rare musical song of unprecedented times.”
No one can imagine.
How poignant and crazy is the performance that contains the joys and sorrows of a traveler who has read his hometown.
Only I will remember him and live with the true intention of his performance.
“Let’s be lonely for the rest of our lives and be lonely for the rest of our lives. Either me or that person.”
“I don’t know what you mean…”
The Buddha said life is a lonely island.
Although it is an island floating alone in the vast sea.
It is said that Manghyanggwieum was a quiet island isolated from the world.
No one really communicates with you, and no one truly knows the scenery you know.
Moreover, he delved into his own music, and as a result, he started to make his name known as a master of music.
Is that why? When I took over the essence of his 12 pieces and recited the scenery he drew.
The eccentric musician quietly shed tears and thanked me.
“At the time, I didn’t know why the old man was crying. It wasn’t until after a while that he understood why he was crying.”
“Why did you cry?”
Looking at Hestosias looking at me in a curt tone while tidying up the gayageum, curiously, I replied with a grin.
“The lonely island that no one came to has built a lonely island identical to itself with my own hands.
But he said how could I not shed tears of joy?”