He didn’t belong to the Righteous Faction in the first place. After leaving the cave, the Viper roamed the world. He visited every spot renowned for its breathtaking view. When he arrived at the place where a waterfall cascaded from the sky, he sat down on a rock and felt the sheer force of the water drench him. He once climbed to a place where he could almost touch the sky, blankly staring at the vast world below for three or four days. He wasn’t particularly moved. The viper that had taken residence in his heart remained silent. He scratched his head, recalling the advice of Namgung Woon, the Murim Alliance leader. “It’s not going to work at all. He said that the Righteous Path is about capturing the essence of nature in their sword. No matter how many beautiful sights I see, I feel nothing. I’d rather find inspiration in people commuting every day in the city.” The majestic waterfall, the vast world stretching below the mountaintop, the terrifying lightning and torrential rain... “It doesn’t really hook me in. ‘Oooooh! This is incredible! Just as expected from the OJP Sect Master!’ ... I don’t get that vibe at all.” Nothing captivated him. “Ah, maybe I should have gone to the demonic cult after all? That bastard Kim Gong-Ja is so lucky. How in the world did he stick with the teacher who was just right for him from the beginning? Damn it...” It had been four hundred and seven days since the Viper had left the cave. The snake hidden in his heart was still consumed by jealousy, sorrow, and despair. The black lump oozed out its sticky residue. Although the Viper felt its outline, he kept going. At first, he didn’t hear the noise from the street. His physical senses, honed by extensive training, certainly caught the sound, but his mind remained uninterested. The Viper was now walking around Goru, the Terras’ homeland. Hoping it would help him defeat Kim Gong-Ja, he occasionally came by and watched the Cavefire plays. As a result, the Viper was able to recite even with his eyes closed all eleven lines that Kekerukker used when confessing his love to Raviel. Sometimes, he pondered why the Terras around him were making a fuss, only to realize that the one truly acting ridiculous was himself. The realization had left him solemn. Slowly, the snake that had curled up in Rao Fan’s heart looked up, sensing all the scents drifting through the street. Among them was a sharp, metallic scent. The snake twitched its nose and sought the source of the scent. It was a blacksmith shop a few streets away from the city. It was quiet. Not many people passed by. Small and medium-sized troupes that had not been able to get a spot in the main intersection had their theaters nearby. Terras whose pockets weren’t quite full enough to handle the plays in the intersection also loitered nearby. The blacksmith shop was in a secluded street. It seemed to be sinking rather than standing upright. The roof had collapsed in several places, and the supporting pillars were decaying. Some of them were already leaning dangerously. If one did as much as blow on this building, it would collapse. There, a blacksmith with bulging arms swung his hammer. The red-hot iron spat sparks as it met the hammer. It slowly began to bend. The skill wasn’t remarkable, nor was the performance captivating, but... “Whoa. You have a unique way of hammering,” the Viper commented. “Phew.”The blacksmith wiped his forehead with a towel.“What is it? Are you a guest, Skian sir?” The Viper approached. He realized that the blacksmith was really small, much shorter than the Skians and even the Terras. The blacksmith barely reached the Viper’s waist. That was because he was a small Sylvan. “Do you need anything? Please note that I don’t make weapons.” “Huh? Why not? Doesn’t the pride of Terra blacksmithing lie in crafting weapons, especially swords? The Terras have a delightful custom of gifting swords to children immediately after their coming-of-age ceremony. Should it wear out within a year, they receive a new one,” the Viper said. “Ah...” The Sylvan finished wiping off his sweat. His expression was oddly indifferent. “I’m saying this because you’re a Skian, but isn’t it a bit strange? It’s truly bizarre. I appreciate that they treat us, a minority, without prejudice, but... it’s genuinely strange. Hmm. Do you understand what I’m saying? “Oh, I understand it very freaking well.” Despite being strangers, they quickly formed a bond and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s annoying.” Their nods were coordinated. A Sylvan who managed a failing blacksmith shop, his work being his livelihood, and a human Hunter posing as a Skian were agreeing on something. Still, their connection was brief, leaving behind their troubled, concealed pasts. “I like the way you talk. So, what would you like to order? I can offer you a discount.” Only then did the Viper remember the real reason for his visit. His pitch-black heart flicked its forked tongue, urging him to speak quickly. “I wasn’t planning to buy anything. I just stopped by out of curiosity,” the Viper answered. “Don’t worry. I’m not a weirdo. I heard your hammering from the street. It was remarkably consistent. At first, I thought it was just normal hammering, but the rhythm and force are very consistent.” The rhythm of the hammering wasn’t off-rhythm for even 0.1 seconds. An ordinary person would disregard it as regular background noise and move along, but the Viper had superhuman physical senses. He easily noticed the uniqueness of the blacksmith shop. “Could it be that this rundown blacksmith shop holds amazing—” “Oh, please don’t sit in that chair. It shakes so much that I had to bolt it to the floor, but the floor shakes too. If you sit there for more than fifteen seconds, the flooring will give way. I calculated that based on my weight, so if you sit, the floor will immediately give out, and the chair will sink into the hole.” “—secrets, skills, or whatnot? Are you perhaps a Class S blacksmith tucked away in this shabby shop? Huh? Is this my chance to become OP?” The Viper felt a rush of excitement. His heart raced, a hiss escaping his throat. He preferred this kind of intrigue far more than beautiful, majestic sights. Actually, what seemed ordinary often concealed greatness: hidden power, status, backstories, dark secrets, and worlds. The Viper’s heartbeat quickened when he thought of these tales. Overwhelmed, the Sylvan blacksmith met the Viper’s too sparkling eyes. “Uh... I’m not sure what you mean by Class S, but my blacksmith shop isn’t special.” “You say that, but you have a hidden past and secret talents, right? “I come from an ordinary family. When my family’s reputation declined, I became a blacksmith. Sir, I have no special talents. How can I possibly compete with the Terras in the blacksmithing department? The Terras are born with actual muscles—” “Come on. You’re lying.” The Sylvan blacksmith stared at him. The Viper blinked. “Really?” “It’s not like lying to you will give me any coins. Look, if you have nothing to order, please leave. You’re distracting me.” The blacksmith didn’t seem to be lying. “How strange, how strange.” Because the Viper lingered around, the blacksmith sighed. “Today is not my day.” Despite his muttering, the blacksmith soon ignored the Viper and continued hammering away. The Viper, watching from a distance, said, “It’s really consistent.” The Viper could only see the Sylvan blacksmith’s small backframe from where he stood. His well-defined back muscles and balanced shoulder and arm muscles were moving tirelessly. “Your rhythm. The strength with which you hammer, too. They’re perfectly consistent. Your hammering is never out of sync. If you slowed down time with aura, you’d be able to somewhat pull this off, but you can’t use aura at all. This is just your physical ability,” the Viper explained. “Phew. Huff, huff...” The Viper frowned. If the Sylvan before him had been able to use aura and pursued a path in martial arts instead of blacksmithing, he could have become quite a potent warrior. “That’s impressive, but why? Why do you insist on hammering that way?” Without turning, the Sylvan answered, “It makes it a bit more enjoyable.” “Enjoyable?” the Viper questioned, furrowing his brow. “Yes, this work. Blacksmithing.” “This is very tiring. The customers take my work home, conveniently use the knives to chop up food, and have a cutting board under it while they’re at it. They also hammer nails into the wall with the tools I sell them. Tools are convenient to use, but creating them can be tough. If this was just a hobby, then it may be different, but this...” “... this is my job. Phew! Damn, I really don’t want to work.” “I want to dieeeeeeee!” As the hammering persisted, the Sylvan blacksmith’s curses became more intense. It felt like he was hurling insults at someone, but they seemed to be directed at himself. The Viper was silent. The hammering sound was so piercingly loud that it had caught his attention. This blacksmith shop turned out to be louder than any other workshop in the city. “Oh, right. If you continue to curse like that, no customers will walk through the door. You time your curses with your hammer swings so the noise will drown out the swearing,” the Viper realized. “You’re nuts.” “Sir, you’ve been quite bothersome for a while now. Could you please leave?” The Viper noted once more that the city Kim Gong-Ja had founded had many weirdos, regardless of species. He said, “But you said working is enjoyable. You don’t seem to be having fun. Are you sure this job is fun?” The blacksmith wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. “Yes, the fun is minor, but it’s there. Blacksmithing is tough in the first place. Of course it is. If you know what species I’m from, you’ll understand that I wasn’t really destined for this line of work. I lack any talent, so don’t you think it’s normal for me to swear on the job?” “Still, if I don’t find any joy in my job, I’ll really start considering dying.” “So I try to have enough fun just so I won’t die.” “Well, my coworkers go out to unwind every weekend. They enjoy relaxing at new public baths or watching the most recent Cavefire plays, which they’ve heard are fantastic. They talk about those plays to relieve stress, but I don’t know...” “When I see a tall mountain, I think, ‘Why is it so tall? I’m small. Is it tall just so it can get on my nerves?’ Even when I visit a famous mountain and look around, I feel like I’m in a different world from the others, so I’m left feeling nothing. Ah, this feeling that I’m going to die from working just isn’t going away.” “Still, I can’t die.” “So, I try to find some kind of joy in the little things. You complimented me as if I accomplished something significant. I’m just trying to have fun to survive. Look.” “It’s quite fun to hammer consistently. It sounds like music, music no one has ever thought of before.” Only then did the blacksmith turn around. He was smiling heartily, his face flushed from the heat of the furnace and smudged with charcoal soot. “Isn’t it interesting? Maintaining this rhythm is pretty difficult. It feels like a game of mine, one that ignites my competitive spirit.” In that moment, the snake nestled deep in Rao Fan’s heart realized something profound. Despite having already come to terms with his identity, he became even more enlightened upon witnessing the small blacksmith. “There are rules to this game. When it rains, my pace is a bit slower.” What did the Viper find beautiful? What felt natural to him? Until his arms moved and his blood flowed, what did he wish to capture within his sword? The OJP Sect Master found the answers to his questions. “When it’s foggy, my hammering becomes even slower. When you hear that distant sound of clangs in a foggy city, isn’t it a bit romantic? It’s like the city or the fog itself is weeping. That’s somewhat interesting and cool. I find that more enjoyable than famous mountains or beautiful landscapes.” It wasn’t people’s screams or the people who had clawed at everything and whose lungs were hollowed out by hunger. When those with the same wounds healed and laughed together, the air became filled with contagious laughter. In a way, this was what the Viper was looking for, but not quite. “Well, I can manage this much. I feel like dying, but I can keep going.” Those who persevered sought enjoyment as a way to endure. That fleeting joy never quite led to true happiness. To get through each day, even at the cost of losing a part of themselves, they sighed and smiled as they muttered that they felt like they were going to die. Still, they were determined to survive. The Viper nodded. “I see.” It was easy to think of that joy as pathetic or a temporary solution to problems. It wasn’t going to bring them happiness; it would only delay it. Therefore, it would be easy to suggest to the blacksmith that he should find their true self and pursue his real talents. It was very easy to claim there was something wrong with someone else’s life. “This seems pretty interesting. Would it be alright if I tried it too?” he asked. So what? No matter how miserable that joy was, it was still a grain of happiness. Even if the smile only lasted just a moment before vanishing, it was still a smile. It had existed and would continue to exist. It was proof of life and of the desire to live. The blacksmith tilted his head. “Uh, you, sir?” “I’m a Skian. I’m strong.” “There’s more than strength to this job—” “Ah, just let me give it a shot. I have plenty of money. I’ll handle the expenses, so if there are any problems later, you can ask for as much money as you need, Blacksmith.” Everyone endured their work. They found joy in enduring hardship, so even if they weren’t happy at the moment, happiness would eventually come, regardless of the time or place. Then they would transform into a sky that rivaled the Demonic Heaven and embraced the world. The Viper took off his top and firmly held the hammer. “Okay! Here I go!” He was too disconnected with natural scenery to sing about it, nor had he the confidence to encase the happy laughter of children dancing through the wheat fields within his sword. When it came to the happiness of ordinary people, he could try to struggle a little more to feel a tad happier. Without that small amount of joy, the burden felt overwhelming, giving him the impression that he was going to collapse soon. To somehow be happy, he had to brainstorm, plan ahead, and put the plan into action so he could later beam in celebration. The Viper grinned. “This is my first time blacksmithing, but I can do this! Let’s go!” This was the kind of happiness he could capture in his sword. He wanted that. The Viper had been wandering for so long to seek the beauty that resonated with his heart, the vision he longed to share with the world. Finally, he found it. His Righteous Path was here. “I got nothing but time anyway!”