He didn’t belong to the Righteous Faction in the first place. “You can’t bend the iron there. No, no, don’t try to put it back with your aura. What’s wrong with you?” the Sylvan blacksmith asked. The Viper continued swinging his hammer without offering a reply. “If you’re using aura for blacksmithing, then it’s just a hobby for you, not work. You’re just playing with that iron. Are you here to play?” The Viper inhaled deeply, his face illuminated by the furnace’s fire. Sweat cascaded down his cheeks and landed on the hot iron with a sizzle. “I asked, are you here to play?” The Viper wasn’t cut out for blacksmithing. No exhilarating miracle that made him become instantly accustomed to the right hammering rhythm occurred. His arms—no, his entire body was shaking as he unleashed all the pent-up emotions from within. “This is hard!” the Viper grumbled. “I’m going to die! Fuck, why the hell is this so hard?” “You aren’t really going to die. Don’t worry. It looks to me that you have a long way to go before you die. When you’re truly at death’s door, the skin beneath your eyes sags. Sir... no, I’ll just call you Mister. Is that okay? Anyhow, you’re as lively as ever.” “This is exhausting!” The blacksmith shrugged. “Work is supposed to be like that.” “Just be humble. ‘Oh, this is freaking hard, but it isn’t the hardest job there is.’” The Viper frowned. “That’s not much of a consolation.” “Then what do you want? Do you think there’s some magic spell that will bring you comfort, make the hammering easier, and refresh your happiness every day? Consolation isn’t really comforting by nature. It’s just that it becomes more challenging without consolations, so that’s when we hand them out.” “F-fuck, it’s tough...” the Viper mumbled, his voice quivering. The sky thickened as the clangs echoed through the clouds, its color shifting from a bright midday blue to a deep evening crimson. The merchants began unpacking their evening stocks, adding to the metallic clangs with their medley of other noises. The Viper was panting hard. “Huff, huff!Haaaaaah... Huh, haa...” “Okay, let’s go eat.” The Sylvan blacksmith was in his neat, clean suit, looking freshly groomed. The Viper had no idea when the blacksmith had washed himself. It seemed that his Sylvan blood was strong. They were only going out to grab a bite, but the blacksmith still dressed himself stylishly. The Viper wiped off his sweat and followed the blacksmith. On one side of the old street, a group of dancers were performing. Though only a few people were watching, they looked amused by the show. “Wow, mister! Look over there! I think that shop hired a Cavefire troupe for promotions! That’s quite costly. They’re going all out to break even in business.” “Ahh... Is it like hiring a singer?” “Let’s go check it out! It’s free!” the blacksmith shouted. It seemed that both the Countess and the Sylvans liked free stuff. With this in mind, the Viper grinned as he dragged his weary body toward the performance. The performers on stage appeared to belong to a small, struggling Cavefire troupe composed of only very young or elderly actors. Their dances were less about power and more about moving in sync, sharing simple love songs instead of tales about war’s horrors. The soft music coursed into the sunset through the actors’ aura. The Viper crossed his arms as he took a spot in the first row. The sunset blazed a particularly bright shade of red, as if infused with the blood of workers who worked all day. The rooftops, pillars, dirt roads and stone floors—every gap of theirs absorbed the sunset, transforming the streets into a crimson hue. “Ug, ug, ug, gorrrrr.” “Tu, tu, bruuuuu, tu, tu.” This was... this was also quite good. It was strange. The Viper had witnessed grand Cavefire plays multiple times already. The warriors of the Fire Water Council performed in perfect synchronization. Their movements were desperate yet solemn, both moving and sorrowful. There were moments when he even shed tears. But why? The snake in his heart flicked its tongue despite staying silent in such majestic Cavefire plays before. “Oh, they’re dancing,” the blacksmith murmured. The Viper looked around. It was true. The others in the audience were moving their shoulders in excitement or holding their partners’ hands, urging them to dance. “Red Brew at your service! You won’t get a price anywhere else!” A Sylvan clerk came out from the store to sell Red Brew, a traditional grain wine of Goru that was similar to beer. “I have bottles of Red Brew that have been kept cooled in ice until now! Ah, thank you! Thank you!” The clerks navigated through the customers like eels in a stream. Upon a closer look, it seemed the store primarily offered simple snacks and Red Brew. As the sounds of buying and selling Red Brew mingled, the actors’ music intensified. The blacksmith raised his hands, bouncing up and down. “Me too! Over here! Two glasses of Red Brew, please!” “Yes! Here are two glasses! Enjoy!” “Hehehe.” The blacksmith grinned and handed a cup of red wine to the Viper. “This is the beauty of a hard day’s work. Consider yourself lucky, Mister. You even get to experience a Cavefire play for free. Drink up. Your work today was meh, but I’m investing in your future. No one excels at something from the start, right?” Feeling a swirl of emotions in his heart, the Viper drank the Red Brew. The wine flowing down his throat was... refreshing. With each sip, the invigorating scent of wheat rose from his throat and the cool, spicy aroma made his nostrils flare. “Gosh! Whoa!” the Viper exclaimed. “How is it? Isn’t it great? I come to this bar often, and their Red Brew is simply amazing. There are many good Red Brew stores in Goru, but I think this one is the best in terms of cost-effectiveness. Woooow, Mister! You know your way around liquor, don’t you?” “Hey, uh, another round of beer!” “Beer? Why are you suddenly asking for beer? If you want beer, you need to go somewhere else. Anyway, Mr. Clerk! Another glass of red wine here, please!” The world transformed into vibrant colors. The sunset sky resembled a landscape painting with a red-hued palette, while the guests chatting, drinking, and dancing under it looked like angels. The sounds of music and dancing echoed around the walls of Viper’s heart, making him feel tingly all over. The Viper murmured, “What? I do like alcohol, but um... not this much... Seriously, what is going on?” “I don’t know what I’m saying.” “Oh, you’re drunk. I thought you were a good drinker when you downed your first cup. God, two glasses of Red Brew knocked you out already? Come on, wake up, Mister. Maybe you’re worn out from work. Usually, if one had a tough day, the drinks hit them harder.” “I’m not knocked out... I just like—” The music played, and the Viper’s heart raced. He got up from his seat. No, perhaps that wasn’t quite right. It was his heart that stirred first. His limbs followed so he could get up, for the heart that couldn’t rise on its own. His mind and his spirit were the last to catch up. “God, you surprised me! Mister, what are you... Ah, do you want to dance?” The Viper beamed. “Yeah!” He wasn’t sure when he had last laughed this freely after the start of his seclusion training. The Sylvan blacksmith chuckled and skillfully took the hand that the Viper held out. The Viper had to bend down due to the height difference between a Skian and a Sylvan, but his face still radiated joy. “This is my first time dancing with a Skian...” “This song is fantastic! Whoaaaaa!” the Viper cheered. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter.” The Viper led his partner while humming. His spirits were occasionally lifted even further, so he praised the Cavefire troupe whenever that happened. Soon, the troupe became more energized and began to stomp their feet harder. With each stomp, their aura matched the rhythm, and music resonated alongside the aura strings. “Great dance and song!” The other people in the audience joined. Regardless of whether they could use aura or not, they downed their drinks and stomped their feet together. Even children clapped along happily. The rhythmic clapping and stomping to the Cavefire troupe’s music gradually resonated from the front of the shop toward the street, all the way to the intersection. “Red Brew in stock! It’s really refreshing!” “I like the actors’ stomping! The rhythm is addictive!” Smoke billowed from chimneys throughout town, signaling people to come home from the war zone known as their workplace. When the workers spotted the rising smoke, they headed for their homes. Every street teemed with people in one, two, three, four, five rows. The shabby bars lining the outskirts and the small troupes sold drinks to customers who didn’t get to wear stylish clothes. They played music and enjoyed themselves while dancing. It was sort of like an outdoor club. No pricey tickets were needed; just a glass of Red Brew from the nearby store was enough. With that, one could watch the performance of these old troupes. There was no need to wear formal clothes either. Some customers were still in their work clothes, while others put on a coat for style points. Some even showed up shirtless, as if still at work. Various new customers gathered, every one of them with a glass in their hands as they hummed and danced along. “Ah...” The Viper tightly grabbed the blacksmith’s hand, which was the size of a rabbit’s paw, as he looked around to take in the scenery from every angle. “It’s beautiful.” “Song? No, not the song... The people are drinking, laughing, singing together, and enjoying themselves...” “Wow... you’re really drunk, Mister. I can’t even follow you anymore.” “Beautiful. How can the world be this beautiful?” The Viper was shedding tears. It wasn’t just him. The snake in his heart was crying blood. Tears flowed from his heart through his veins, reaching his tired calves, knees, back, shoulders, forearms, palms, and eyes. The Viper guided his partner with his hand. “Because work is hard and it feels like we’re going to die, everyone wants to die.” Tears were flowing from his heart and pooling in his eyes, but his smile couldn’t be brighter. The area in front of the store had transformed into a small square of its own. Drunk spectators surrounded the Cavefire troupes. “One more Red Brew here!” “Yes, coming right up!” All those voices rang with joy, resembling music instead of mere noise. “That’s why we drink. To live and find joy. We drink and dance to get energized. When the music resumes, we dance again.” The Viper picked up the small Sylvan and twirled him around. “Oooooh!” nearby spectators exclaimed, but the Viper and the Sylvan in his arms were oblivious to them. The Viper continued, “Once more, we dance, work, and feel as if we’re going to die. Then we dance and have fun again. It’s beautiful. Another day comes by and we work again and feel like we’re about to die. Then another day. We work day after day, feeling as if we want to die, but life becomes fun again.” “Ah, I think I get it now,” the Viper hummed. “People work with everything they’ve got, so of course, it makes us feel like we want to die. We want to die, so we find enough fun that we won’t actually die. Yes, we have no choice but to dance.” “We sing out of exhaustion, we drink to forget how tired we are, we eat together because we’re fatigued. We dance because we feel like dying. Yeah, there is no such thing as music existing without a purpose. Music exists for those who work so hard that they want to escape from their usual lives. Only to those, music exists by itself. It means nothing to those who live without a day that they want to forget.” “You’re babbling... Mister, does your personality change when you drink?” the blacksmith asked sourly. The Viper replied, “I’m happy. Hammering was freaking hard, and yes, tomorrow will be a damn challenge too. But, Blacksmith, aren’t you happy right now? Life is a bit enjoyable at the moment, isn’t it?” The Viper didn’t belong to the Righteous Faction in the first place. The Sylvan wasn’t born to be a blacksmith. “Yes, of course it is. That’s why I love the moments when I’m not working the most,” the blacksmith answered. Many people never truly belonged anywhere in the first place. The run-down shops, the chilled Red Brew, the busy store clerks rushing about, the people whose collars were stained with fatigue—every street and intersection were flooded with people drained by work. This moment was their brief indulgence: a drink, a tasty snack, a chat with a friend. To somehow cast off the feeling of wishing for death, a feeling that lurked within them today, people carved and scooped out this never-ending lethargy within them as much as possible before returning to work the following day. That was why they danced. “Everyone is alive. Life is so hard that it makes you want to die, but when you make it through a stressful moment, you have a brief opportunity to catch your breath.” The Viper wished to protect this moment. His righteousness was about calling the ordinary people’s happiness beautiful and telling those who had a long day of hard work to get some rest. It was the joy of drinking wine, dancing and singing, especially for those who had come to unwind after work. “Blacksmith,” the Viper blurted out. The Viper gently tapped the blacksmith on the shoulder, staggering away from the mini square filled with song and dance. “Live a long life. Be careful of accidents. You, me, all of us... Let’s live long lives.” As he got out of the square, the Viper’s Skian shadow slowly enveloped everyone else’s. The Sylvan blacksmith remained behind, watching the Viper fade into the sunset. The Viper began to run. “Yeah, I wore fancy clothes to quietly enjoy the music of Cavefire plays, so no wonder I couldn’t feel anything, even though they were excellent plays.” He kept running. As he released the aura that had been sealed for half a day, his blood rushed through his veins, and his vision sharpened. He swiftly leaped up from the ground and landed on a rooftop. As he glided over from rooftop to rooftop, the passersby on the street pointed at him, exclaiming, but before their fingertips could catch up to him, the Viper swiftly leaped again and vanished onto another rooftop. The Viper breathed heavily. “Life is supposed to be so hard that I feel like I’m going to die. Only then can I hear the music and begin to dance, to forget and endure. It’s not to seek happiness. We’re trying to be happy so we can survive. To survive...” “We do this to survive.” At some point, every time the Viper took a step, aura vibrated around him, even when he burst his aura mid-air, a metallic clang started to ring out. It had now been four hundred ten days since he left the cave. The Viper visited a Shellmount family’s farm as a guest and lived with them for two years, working hard in the fields alongside them. One day, his plow broke as he dug through the hardened earth. On Day 1,503, the Viper worked in a Sylvan bank. Since he kept his identity secret, his superior often smacked him in the back of his head, unaware that the Viper was the god of Skians. On Day 2,874, the Viper entered a mine run by the Skians and swung a pickaxe. The mining industry had improved significantly compared to when the Shellmounts used slaves. Even so, it was still a very tough line of work. The Viper used a wet towel to cool his face and drank water to hydrate, though he still swung the pickaxe with difficulty. Day 22,400. He didn’t belong to the Righteous Faction in the first place. Though he was lonely, his skill didn’t match that of a lone-wolf, undefeatable swordsman. From the very beginning, the role of a protagonist didn’t suit him. Standing atop the mountain, the Viper inhaled deeply. The sensations from his arms, shoulders, back, waist, thighs, calves, and even the soles of his feet... the world he inhaled transformed into blood that circulated throughout his body before he exhaled slowly. In the far distance, he could see a colossal turtle monster surfacing from the depths of the sea and approaching the land. The monster seemed formidable, as if he aimed to obliterate the world. However, the Viper merely glanced at the creature, his focus solely on the people of this world. “Come on, Kim Gong-Ja.” Finally, he shed his Skian shell after wearing it for a long time. After so long, he finally swung his own arms around. Most importantly, he spoke with a voice that came from his own heart as he punched the air. “Here is the Righteous Faction.” “Fighting is our work.” “Work is supposed to be tough and challenging.” “Fighting against you is exceptionally fucking hard. I feel like I’m going to die from overwork.” “After we’re done with this job...” “... let’s head somewhere with good music and chug down some drinks!” The Five Prestigious Clans lay buried in the snow, and the Nine Sects and the Beggar Gang had vanished in the snowstorm. Not even the Murim Alliance leader could fight anymore. Now, the Demonic Heaven had transcended the confines of the world and was wherever the people chanted the prayer of whish. Right now, the last man left in the Righteous Path of the snowfield, the OJP Sect Master, stood up with a smile on his face.