67 – The finished work, the finished story.
“Are all bards, like you, making unfamiliar sounds a daily routine? What do you mean?”
“Damn it, that wild boar Hercules is also a cultured person, so the reaction was delicious when this rumor was solved.
From noble mtl dot com
Has your head turned to iron only by beating iron? So the head, um…”
“Mulhmung kkeukeuhrul…”
It is not for nothing that Jesus, who remained silent for most of his prayers, gave a bear punch to Jammin after hearing the prayer of a bald missionary who couldn’t stand the bald drip.
Even in the eyes of a bystander, Shin, making fun of a bald head is cruel.
And I couldn’t make fun of his brilliant bald head, even if it wasn’t because of the divine punishment.
That’s a bit too much.
Anyway, that was the end of the ghost story.
He often talked about travel, but he was a wandering ghost who kept quiet about himself.
Even during training, he rarely mentions his past, so I researched it first.
“Oh, that’s right. My master’s main skill was the sonic blade.”
“What?”
It was the realm of sound gong invented by Mangyang Guiyin, also known as Gyeokeum (擊音).
In general, Yin Gong masters put energy in a gold string and shot it out with sound waves to directly hit the opponent’s brain or induce internal injuries through the ears.
It can be seen as a kind of ultrasonic attack, but the Ghost of Ghosts went beyond this and fired a skill that surpassed any other famous sword with sound waves or a sonic attack reminiscent of a cannon.
The invisible attack that flew dizzyingly in the dazzling performance flew wherever the sound could be heard.
For this reason, it is said that whenever the gold sound resonated in the battlefield, not in the concert hall, the enemies ran away in a panic.
Impossible to evade, unprepared, undetectable.
No matter how crowded the battlefield is, Jineum, who can accurately find only himself and his religious enemies, is superior to any other red eyes.
An astounding sound hole that instantly grasps the wide battlefield and freely decapitates the enemy.
Even the world’s flying and long masters counted with their hands the one who took half of the body out of the 12 songs of Nostalgic Ghosts.
It is said that among them, those who survived until the last twelve songs did not make it to three.
“…Is that possible?”
“Honestly, it seems very perverted to me…”
No, if a military man in the world wants to cut a target, he draws his sword, and he thinks of cutting by changing the sound of the gold he was playing into an art.
It would be a normal celebration if it shakes the mind or causes internal injuries like a normal music ball.
It was lamentable that a master with excellent swordsmanship came up with the idea of slashing people with sound waves rather than swords in order to deal with the thieves who coveted his talent during his wandering days.
“Do you even know what made such a grotesque martial art?”
“What is it?”
“…I did it because it was annoying to stand up after pulling out my sword while playing.”
It was a remark that the world’s prosecutors would vomit blood and turn over if they heard it.
Actually, I was excitedly beaten by his forbidden voice and was coughing up blood while listening to that sound.
No one can imagine how stupid I must have been.
“What an incredible pervert. Wizards would rather be more human.”
“The problem is that it was really strong, but it was strong.”
The terrifying performance that can make the difference between life and death with a moment’s performance.
However, when he played, it was so enchanting that even the clamor of the battlefield was silenced.
No one can dispute that not only his music skills but also his gold skills are of a very high standard.
“It’s quite common to use musical instruments and music as mediums for magic, but I’ve never heard of magic that produces swords sharper than real swords like that…”
Hestosias looked at me as if he was fed up.
“Oh, don’t worry. The nobleman was a unique existence among those masters of music.
Most of them were just (?) Guys.”
When rumors spread that I had inherited the twelve songs of the Ghost from Homecoming, not only in the church but also in Murim.
Not only all kinds of music masters, but even famous musicians came to me to compete for gold or to listen to a little bit of the music of the nostalgic ghost.
At the time, I was just emerging in the Demonic Cult, and it was revealed because the corrupt leader asked me to play gold to keep me in check and embarrass me.
Thanks to that, I was able to have a beneficial time listening to the musicians scattered throughout Moorim and numerous famous songs.
“I can say for sure, I was the only one who reached the level of a teacher by singing the Twelve Songs of Nostalgic Ghosts.”
It can be said that it is a red suit that is perfect for Murim.
If there was another human weapon that could deliver ultra-precise stealth strikes to the omnidirectional radar, a beautiful wind of blood would have blown through Moorim.
“Huh, should I believe this or not?”
“Believe it or not.”
To be honest, even after seeing Hestosias’ work with my own eyes, I still can’t believe it.
There is no way you can believe the story of that other world called Hestosias straight away.
If the gold is perfectly finished, it’s not too late to talk about it.
“Anyway, most of the cracks couldn’t handle three sieve, and the string broke and the sound tube was broken.”
In that sense, the olive tree Hestosias created was a truly outstanding body.
Condensing the vitality of the tree itself and compressing its essence, the unusual crimson fire and chiseled body itself was harder than any other steel.
At the same time, the soft resonance unique to the wooden body also shows a more vivid and deep resonance thanks to the vitality of the tree, so any musician who sees it will admire it and try to obtain it even at a thousand gold.
“But what I’m worried about is that gold string.”
Pearl and silver?
The way they spun the thread was certainly magical. Geumhyeon is more directly exposed to Qi than the body.
So the body was worn for quite a long time to get rid of gold in the previous life, but didn’t the string have to be changed almost every year even though it used a thousand-year-old iron thread?
I couldn’t help but wonder if the thread made of pearls and silver would be strong enough to catch the Twelve Pieces.
“Hmm… Aside from anything else, it sounds like a pretty hard metal.
How hard is the ore?”
“Permanent season? Yep…”
In terms of hardness and resistance to heat and energy, Moorim is one of the best men in all seasons.
I didn’t think much of the intensity, but from what I’ve been able to touch…
“There was a case where a boot had his finger cut off because he unknowingly touched the broken thread.”
On the outside, it’s just a beautiful frost-colored metal thread.
Its sharpness and hardness was a treasure comparable to any other famous sword.
In a nutshell, twelve swords made of swords by melting down gold strings and mixing them with iron were packaged as new swords given by the religious master and went down as goods to the late masters who established the Grand Duke.
“Then yes, the yarn I made is unbelievable.”
In the meantime, Hestosias, who had finished finishing the body finish, stood up with a grin instead of self-torturing words and held up a thread that glowed with a strange milky color.
“Now then, it is your turn to ask. I’ll talk to you while you wind the thread, ask me anything.”
Hestosias, who was flirting with it as if he was about to spread some dirty talk, spoke plainly and began to carefully trim the gold string as I ordered.
Oil a brush made of deer hair mixed with various herbs and powders, apply it carefully to each hair, and check if there is anything wrong.
Hestosias was a strange blacksmith.
“I heard that you are the representative craftsman of the Forest of Heroes?”
“Well, I did make a few useful things. But I don’t even have the heart to hammer because there’s no one to use even that.”
“Then why did I suddenly get a request for my instrument out of the blue?”
I doubt that.
As I skipped classes and diligently carried out Hestosias’ quest, stories about him came naturally.
“Crimson Hestosias. As the son of Hephaestus, he is the only blacksmith who can handle the growling blessing of Hephaestus in the forge.”
A smithy built with the blessing of Hephaestus among Chiron’s sanctuaries.
The crimson flame that raged like a heart in the center was not just a flame, but like the embers that Hestia left in the furnace, it was Hephaestus’ leftover flame.
The fire of Hephaestus, which burns hotter than any fire, never goes out, melts any metal at once and burns any impurities in an instant. It was truly the ultimate fire for blacksmiths.
However, befitting such a divine power, I allowed any blacksmith to borrow his power just once.
If you couldn’t produce a satisfactory result even if you borrowed your own power, no matter how much firewood you put in and how much wind you blow, no metal would melt, and it would just shake annoyingly.
Hestosias is the only one who can deal with Hephaestus’ nephritis, which quickly became just a symbolic mascot in the blacksmith’s shrine.
As a blacksmith recognized by Shin-Yeom, every sword he forged was a masterpiece, and kings and princes of famous kingdoms did not hesitate to travel long distances to buy weapons from him.
He knew how high the name was.
However, Hestosias refused all requests long before I came in, and he didn’t even touch the smithy unless he received minor weapon maintenance.
“Why is that?”
“Why, because it’s no fun.”
-Diding~
In an instant, Hestosias, who had put on the first string, nodded his head as he lightly plucked the string.
“How is it, is it the sound you imagined?”
“…Oh.”
Obviously, it still needed more adjustment, but the sound was definitely that of the gayageum I’ve been playing all along.
“I understand even if you don’t tell me. It looks good.”
With a satisfied grin, Hestosias began moving his hands busily again.
“The people who always come to see me say the same thing. ‘I am a king. Make me a sword fit for a king.’ ‘I am a prince. Please make me a spear fit for a prince to hold.’, ‘I am a hero, give me a shield fit for a hero to hold.’ It’s not even a parrot, it’s boring.”
Hestosias, grimacing grotesquely as if he were bored, had finished the second string in the meantime.
-D-Ring…
A little higher and softer than before.
Again, I nodded and responded that I was listening to him who turned his head away and gave me a silent glance.
“Well, I like ores that melt in flames, and steel that changes shape when hammered. That’s only once or twice, but it’s not fun at all when you only touch the blade.”
-Diriling~
After the third string, a softer, thinner sound resonated in the workshop, and Hestosias slowly began pouring out his inner words to me, containing his emotions.