Chapter 29: Master Yun Origins

The forge smelled of burning coal and molten steel, the heat thick and heavy in the air. Sparks flew as hammer met metal, a rhythmic clang that echoed through the dimly lit workshop.

Jin Ye stepped inside, boots pressing into the soot-covered floor. The place was exactly as he remembered—messy, loud, and filled with the scent of iron and sweat. But he was different now.

Master Yun stood by the anvil, sleeves rolled up, muscles tensed as he shaped a glowing ingot with precise strikes. Without pausing, he glanced up, eyes sharp beneath his furrowed brow.

"You're back." His voice was gruff as usual.

Jin Ye smirked. "Had to come back sometime. Got unfinished business."

Master Yun huffed, setting his hammer down. "Unfinished, huh? You finally realized that weapons alone won't keep you alive?"

Jin Ye shrugged. "Something like that."

Master Yun eyed him for a long moment, his gaze flicking over Jin Ye's stance. His presence was heavier now—Qi swirling with the weight of the 9th stage. It was subtle, but to a seasoned craftsman, it was obvious.

The old blacksmith grunted. "Tch. You've gotten stronger."

Jin Ye shrugged. "Figured it was time."

Master Yun wiped his hands on a rag and leaned against the workbench. "So, what do you need?"

Jin Ye didn't hesitate. "Armor."

That got Master Yun's attention. He raised an eyebrow. "Armor?"

Jin Ye nodded. "I need something that won't slow me down but can enhance my artifact."

Master Yun scoffed. "You've never cared for armor before. Thought you relied on dodging."

Jin Ye smirked. "I still do. But if I can get something that works with my fighting style—"

Master Yun cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Stop. I already get it." He exhaled, shaking his head. "Tch. Took you long enough."

He gestured for Jin Ye to follow him.

"Come on. If you want real armor, you need to understand what you're working with first."

Master Yun led Jin Ye through the forge's back corridor, past rows of weapon racks and cooling steel. Eventually, they stepped into a smaller chamber, quieter than the main workshop.

It was filled with old blueprints, sketches of weapons and armor pinned to the walls. Various forging tools hung meticulously on hooks, each one worn from years of use.

Jin Ye's eyes swept across the room—until he noticed the black iron plaque hanging above the workbench.

Master Yun – Silver Grade 9 Blacksmith

Jin Ye's brows furrowed slightly.

"You're a Silver Grade 9?"

Master Yun sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "That obvious, huh?"

Jin Ye glanced at the plaque again. Silver 9 was a high rank—but not Gold.

"In this city, you're one of the best," Jin Ye murmured. "But outside?"

Master Yun snorted. "Outside, I'm just another name in the dust."

Jin Ye was silent for a moment before smirking.

"Good thing I don't plan on staying in this city."

Master Yun let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Cocky brat. Fine, let's see if you can back it up. If you want armor, you're making it yourself."

Jin Ye grinned. That was exactly what he wanted.

Jin Ye leaned against the workbench, still eyeing the Silver 9 plaque. He wasn't surprised that Master Yun was one of the strongest blacksmiths in the city, but something gnawed at him.

"You're one rank away from Gold." Jin Ye's tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "Why didn't you advance?"

Master Yun didn't answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed a flask from the table, took a long swig, then exhaled heavily. His gaze flickered to an old folded blueprint tucked under a stack of scrolls.

"Not for lack of skill," he muttered, setting the flask down with a dull thunk. "Gold rank… it ain't just about knowing how to forge. It's about who you forge for."

Jin Ye frowned. "What do you mean?"

Master Yun chuckled dryly. "You think all those high-ranked smiths work alone? That they reach Gold by swinging a hammer in some backwater forge?"

Jin Ye stayed silent. He already had a feeling where this was going.

Master Yun tapped the edge of the workbench. "Gold-ranked blacksmiths don't work for themselves. They work for sects, clans, and powerful factions. The moment you hit Gold, those same forces start calling in favors, sending 'requests.' And you don't get to say no."

His voice turned sharp, bitter.

Master Yun's fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the workbench. His gaze drifted, no longer focused on Jin Ye but on something distant—something buried in time yet never truly forgotten.

"When I was younger, I had the chance to take the Gold Rank test," he said, voice quieter now. "Had the skill for it. But passing meant more than just a title. It meant belonging to someone."

Jin Ye remained silent, sensing the weight behind the words.

"There was a sect—Iron Sky Pavilion. Mid-tier, but wealthy. Their young master wanted me as his personal blacksmith. Offered me spirit stones, materials, a proper forge. All I had to do was forge what they wanted, when they wanted."

Master Yun exhaled sharply. "I refused."

Jin Ye raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"They didn't like that answer." Master Yun's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "At first, they tried persuasion. Gifts, connections, promises. When that didn't work, they got impatient. One night, they sent enforcers to 'escort' me to their sect."

Jin Ye's expression darkened. He could already guess what happened next.

"I sent them back with broken hands," Master Yun said flatly. "Didn't kill them—but I made sure they couldn't hold a weapon for months. Thought that would end it."

It didn't.

"The next day, I woke up to find my forge burned to the ground."

Jin Ye's fingers curled into a fist.

Master Yun chuckled dryly. "Funny thing? They thought that'd make me crawl back. Thought I'd beg for a position." He shook his head. "I left the capital that night. Came here, started over. Haven't looked back since."

Jin Ye met his gaze. "And if they came for you now?"

Master Yun smirked. "Then they'd better bring a damn good sword."

Jin Ye nodded. He understood now. Master Yun wasn't weak—he had simply chosen his freedom over power.

Jin Ye leaned against the workbench, arms crossed. "What about the Blacksmith Guild? Don't they protect their members? I thought smiths who didn't want to get involved in sect politics could just work under their banner."

Master Yun let out a dry chuckle. "In theory, sure. The Guild claims neutrality. They provide resources, commissions, even bodyguards for high-ranked smiths. But at the end of the day?" He shook his head. "Powerful factions don't care about rules—they care about what they can take."

Jin Ye frowned. "So, the Guild wouldn't have done anything?"

Master Yun snorted. "Oh, they would have filed a formal complaint. Maybe even banned Iron Sky Pavilion from officially requesting services for a few years. But by the time all that was settled?" He tapped his chest. "I'd either be forging for them, or I'd be dead."

Jin Ye's jaw tightened. The Blacksmith Guild was strong, but it wasn't all-powerful. Even an independent craftsman could be crushed under the weight of a greedy sect if they weren't careful.

Master Yun gave him a knowing look. "That's why you don't just rely on a title or an organization to protect you. You forge your own strength, or someone else decides how you live."

Jin Ye exhaled slowly, then smirked. "Good thing I never planned on relying on anyone."

Master Yun barked a laugh. "Cocky brat. At least you're learning."

"So, you gave it up?"

Master Yun snorted. "I chose to forge for those who actually need it. Doesn't mean I lack skill—just means I lack patience for politics."

Jin Ye exhaled, nodding. He respected that.

Master Yun glanced at him. "What about you? If you climb high enough, you'll face the same thing. If you get strong enough, sects will expect you to fight for them."

Jin Ye smirked. "Then I just won't let them own me."

Master Yun grinned. "Tch."

But there was approval in his tone.

Jin Ye turned back to the Silver Grade 9 plaque, running a finger over its surface. It wasn't just a ranking—it was a line drawn in the sand.

Gold meant power and recognition. But it also meant chains.

"...Gold rank ain't just about skill—it's about who you serve."

Master Yun's words lingered in Jin Ye's mind.

Jin Ye slowly grinned. "Sounds like I'll have to go beyond Gold, then."

Master Yun let out a rough laugh. "Hah! Good luck with that. I'll be sure to watch."

He crossed his arms. "But before you start talking about surpassing the world's best blacksmiths, you better prove you can actually craft armor that won't crumble after one hit."

Jin Ye chuckled, cracking his knuckles.

"Then let's get to work."

Master Yun grabbed a thick scroll from the workbench and tossed it onto the table between them. Dust scattered from its edges.

"Blueprints for armor," he said. "Basic, advanced, experimental—all in here. Study them."

Jin Ye unrolled the scroll, eyes scanning the intricate designs. Some were heavy, built for frontline cultivators who took blows head-on. Others were light, designed for speed and maneuverability. None of them fit his style.

"These won't work," Jin Ye said. "I need something fast, flexible, and durable. Heavy armor will slow me down."

Master Yun smirked. "Then make your own."

Jin Ye glanced up.

"You want armor that works for you? You forge it yourself," Master Yun continued. "Because no blacksmith, no matter how skilled, will ever know your body better than you do."

Jin Ye exhaled through his nose, then gave a slow nod. He wasn't here for shortcuts.

Master Yun folded his arms. "But first, you need to register at the Blacksmith Guild. You won't get access to high-grade materials without their approval."

Jin Ye smirked. "Then let's go."

Master Yun waved a hand. "I'm not your errand boy. You go. I've got work to do."

Jin Ye grabbed his sword, gave a two-finger salute, and walked out.

Master Yun watched him leave, then shook his head with a chuckle. "That brat's going to shake the heavens one day."

Jin Ye walked through the city streets, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the stone roads. The smell of roasted meat and simmering broth drifted from street stalls, but his mind was elsewhere.

His path had never been clearer.

Weapons alone wouldn't be enough. Strength alone wouldn't be enough. If he wanted to dominate the sect trials, if he wanted to reach beyond what this city could offer, he needed more than raw power.

His feet carried him toward the Blacksmith Guild, his mind already working through designs.

No one would forge his future for him.

He would build it with his own hands.