Chapter 50: A Brief Moment of Freedom (1)

Seo Yeom-jeong, the employee from the Clubs Department, turned completely pale.

In the administrative office, everyone present stood lined up against the wall, hands behind their backs, and their posture rigidly upright.

A figure clad in a flowing black silk robe advanced slowly in front of them, the fabric fluttering with each step.

Under the morning light, her hair glimmered like crystal, and two burly assistants followed closely behind her.

‘…The director?’

The director finally stopped in front of Seo Yeom-jeong, whose trembling gaze tried desperately to grasp the gravity of the situation.

The director’s icy eyes bore into her, making Seo Yeom-jeong swallow hard. The more she tried to understand what was happening, the more confused she became.

The cousin of a close friend of the director? That was obviously a blatant lie.

But to claim that the advisor for a simple special student’s club would be the director herself?

Could anyone truly believe that Media the Wise, one of the pillars of the Seven Holy Heroes, would act as a mentor to a mere special student? The idea was so absurd that anyone hearing it would burst into laughter.

Yet here and now, that ridiculous scenario was unfolding right before her eyes.

Seo Yeom-jeong had been working at the academy for almost ten years, but never had she been so close to the director.

With a youthful appearance so striking that one might mistake her for someone in her early twenties, the director’s beauty was remarkable.

But the eyes she directed at Seo Yeom-jeong now held nothing youthful—they were cold, almost glacial.

Feeling a suffocating weight in her chest, Seo Yeom-jeong jolted upright as if waking from a bad dream.

Seo swallowed hard and instinctively stood at attention.

“D-Director!”

Seo Yeom-jeong was the type who bowed to the strong and crushed the weak. She was cold to those she deemed inferior but almost groveling to those of higher rank.

Media’s frown deepened, clearly displeased by Seo Yeom-jeong’s excessive submissiveness.

Then, turning slightly, she glanced at Kang Geom-Ma, who stood calmly with his arms crossed.

In contrast, Media offered him a warm smile.

“I only spoke with you over the phone yesterday, but now that I see you in person, it’s wonderful, Geom-Ma.”

“Sorry to trouble you when you’re so busy.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. If it’s a favor for you, I’ll come running without hesitation. Besides, I was already on my way to work.”

In the tense atmosphere, the director and the special student chatted amicably, while the other employees remained silent, watching nervously.

Seo Yeom-jeong barely dared to lift her head, casting a sideways glance at Kang Geom-Ma.

How could the director of Joaquin Academy, the ultimate authority, treat a mere special student so informally?

And that name—Kang Geom-Ma. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a faint memory stirred. She vaguely recalled hearing that name from a colleague.

Wasn’t that the name of the student who had entered this year as the top of his class…?

The scattered pieces of Seo Yeom-jeong’s thoughts began to fall into place like a puzzle, and her face turned ashen.

Her eyes, trembling with fear, darted toward Kang Geom-Ma.

“Geom-Ma, give me those documents. I’ll handle the remaining procedures as the advisor for this club. It’s already 8:50, and I believe you have a written exam next week? Don’t be late for class. Off you go now.”

“Ah, time’s running short. I’ll leave this in your hands, then.”

Kang Geom-Ma gave Media a slight nod.

Some of the senior employees frowned at his informal gesture, but as soon as the director’s sharp gaze swept over them, they immediately erased their expressions.

“Of course, of course. Leave it to me! Study hard!”

“Yes, see you later.”

Media waved cheerfully as Kang Geom-Ma left the office, maintaining her bright smile until the door clicked shut behind him.

Click.

As soon as the door closed, Media’s smile vanished.

Slowly, she turned to face Seo Yeom-jeong.

“I believe I understand the situation.”

“…”

Her voice was cold and cutting.

To students, Media was warm and compassionate. To employees, however, she was a shrewd and ruthless supervisor.

Media, keenly attuned to the atmosphere, let out a dry laugh.

As befitting her title of the Wise, she quickly pieced together the circumstances with near-perfect accuracy, merely observing the details at hand.

There was no need for her to invoke her unique divine blessing, The Poet’s Blessing.

“I am the director of this academy, and yet we still have people so ignorant working here? I bet they’ve been gossiping about his background. That too…”

The air in the room grew even colder. The curtains on the windows rattled violently.

“⎯About the cadet Siegfried and I chose as our successor.”

Cold sweat streamed down the backs of the employees like rivers.

Some struggled to believe what they were hearing.

Seo Yeom-jeong was so shocked she raised her head, a blank expression on her face.

With a tilt of her chin, Media signaled to one of her assistants, who promptly removed the chair Seo Yeom-jeong had been standing by.

Seo Yeom-jeong remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together, frozen in place.

Media sank into Seo Yeom-jeong’s chair with a heavy thud and crossed her legs in a deliberately provocative manner.

Resting her chin on one hand, she fixed Seo Yeom-jeong with a cold stare and spoke.

“I won’t waste words. You have five minutes.”

The moment Media finished speaking, Seo Yeom-jeong snatched up a pen and paper and began writing her resignation letter.

Her hand trembled as she tried to hold back tears, scribbling quickly.

Even the thought of making excuses felt like an act that would cost not just her job but her very life.

***

That Afternoon

After finishing classes, I returned to the administrative office and received the notification that the club creation request had been accepted.

Of course, we still needed one more member to meet the minimum requirement, so official approval was pending.

In other words, as soon as I resolved that, the club would be formally established.

There was no need to rush, so I decided to recruit the last member after next week’s written exam.

However, I noticed something curious the desk of the employee who had blatantly ignored me that morning was completely empty.

Additionally, the other administrative office employees were treating me with overly kind words, even offering me refreshments with extreme politeness.

This has Media’s touch, I thought, though the sudden shift in their attitudes made me a little uncomfortable.

Still, considering that I’d likely have to return here for club-related matters, I decided not to take it too personally.

Shaking off my thoughts, I hurried to the smithy within the academy.

***

“Ahjussi, I’m here!”

Volundr, drenched in sweat as he worked with glowing hot metal, turned toward me when he heard my voice.

Using a soot-covered rag, he wiped his sweat and tried to catch his breath, still slightly winded.

“You’re here to pick up your weapon, right? Just give me a moment.”

I nodded silently in response.

With a peculiar expression, he walked toward the storage area to retrieve Murasame, the weapon I had commissioned.

From the tunic he wore, his defined back muscles were clearly visible. I watched his retreating figure for a moment before pulling out a chair and sitting down, leaning into it.

The heat radiating from the forge was scorching, making my skin sweat even more.

It was only the start of summer, and the weather was already turning warm. Seeing the blazing flames of the forge only made me shake my head in resignation.

I loosened my tie and let out a deep sigh.

‘How can anyone work in a place like this?’

I didn’t know how Volundr viewed me, but to me, as a former player, he had always been a figure I both loved and hated.

As a low-budget player back then, I had no real reason to resent him.

…Though, after what happened recently, the “hate” side had grown a little stronger.

Volundr the blacksmith. One of the main NPCs responsible for everything weapon-related.

He was also a polarizing figure, infamous for ruthlessly devouring players’ resources.

From his dialogue in the game, he came across as a greedy character, but his brazen personality made it hard to truly hate him.

At least, that was how I felt as a budget-conscious player.

For high-spending players, however, he was relentlessly criticized in forums, earning him nicknames like “Cursed Volundr,” “Volundr of Doom,” and even “Volundr the Money-Snatcher.”

Although Miracle Blessing M was considered generous for its standards, it was still a Korean mobile game.

And in such a world, the blacksmith responsible for upgrading and forging weapons couldn’t escape the ire of players.

To be honest, I’d also felt immense rage when he downgraded Murasame from a B-class weapon to E-class.

Even so, I wanted to believe that he was at least trying his best…

I needed to hold onto that belief—otherwise, I’d just get angrier.

Regardless, despite the criticisms, players still invoked his name before trying their luck with the upgrade system, pleading:

“Please, Volundr, just this once!” Some even placed his image on their screens while praying.

The developer was the real culprit behind squeezing players dry, but since Volundr was the one burning through their money as fuel for his forge, he bore the brunt of their wrath.

Now that he wasn’t just a lifeless NPC but a real person I was doing business with, my feelings toward him were far more complicated.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?”

His voice snapped me out of my reverie. When I looked up, he was already standing beside me, holding Murasame in his hands.

“Ah, it’s nothing important. I was just thinking you remind me of someone I know.”

“Then that person must be as handsome as I am.”

He stroked his soot-blackened beard with a smug air and let out a carefree laugh.

I couldn’t help but smirk wryly as I accepted *Murasame* from his hands.

He then grabbed a peach-colored drink and downed it in one gulp, as though quenching his thirst.

The fermented smell wafting from the drink reminded me of makgeolli (T/N: a traditional Korean rice wine).

Although Volundr’s character origin was Scandinavian, seeing him drink makgeolli so contentedly was oddly amusing.

As I watched, our eyes met.

“Want a drink?”

“…Are you offering alcohol to a minor?”

“Kid, if you’re going to talk like that, you should act like one! Why do you sound like someone who’s lived a whole life already?”

“…”

Muttering something under his breath, he swirled his cup. Ignoring him, I focused on inspecting Murasame in my hands.

“Not to brag, but this work is flawless. Of course, the high-quality materials from those magical beast parts helped a lot.”

As he said, it seemed he had truly put effort into it this time.

The blade, once riddled with cracks, now radiated an icy chill, and the scorched handle had been restored to the refined texture of paulownia wood.

‘Volundr.’

As I admired the upgraded Murasame, I thought about the status window in my mind.

A notification flashed before my eyes, opening a status screen.

== ==

Beep—

[Blessing of Pain Insensitivity]

The sensation of pain is completely removed.

Duration: (40 → 50) seconds.

[▷ NEW! With the increased number of blessings, the activation time has been adjusted as follows:]

[※ Activation time: (40▶50) seconds, cooldown: 12 hours.]

== ==

It seems the condition for leveling up the Blessing of Pain Insensitivity wasn’t just manifesting it frequently but doing so in real combat situations.

Since I’d always focused on the Blessing of the Sword God, I had nearly forgotten about it, but this was good news.

Even if it was just 10 more seconds, the improvement was welcome. Thinking about the dungeons ahead, I knew those extra seconds would be invaluable.

Despite my initial complaints about this blessing, I now recognized it as a solid mid-to-high-level skill.

Smiling with satisfaction, I scrolled further down to check additional details.

== ==

[Murasame]

Type: Kitchen Knife

Description: Once known as the “Sword that Retains Dew,” this weapon has now been reborn as a high-carbon steel kitchen knife, imbued with the skill of a master craftsman. Although small, its performance may vary depending on the user.

[Blade Length: 35 cm]

[Width: 6 cm]

[Features:]

[Destructive Power: C]

[Range: E]

[Durability: E → C]

[Growth Potential: A]

[Rank: E → D]

[▷ NEW! Additional functions unlocked.]

== ==

Since the blade was based on materials from Buffalo, a C-level magical beast, I hadn’t expected much. The rank improvement wasn’t dramatic, but considering the effort I put in, it was reasonable.

I also had materials from the ‘Bull King,’ a level A demonic beast, so I thought it might reach level C… but, well, things don’t always go as one hopes.

Even so, it was quite encouraging that [Durability] increased by two levels. In the future, there will be moments when Murasame will unexpectedly have to handle an aura, and it would be problematic if it couldn’t withstand the strain and broke every time.

Besides, I feel a bit sorry for this drunken blacksmith.

‘…Hm?’

As I scrolled further down, I noticed a line written at the end. Instinctively, I tapped it.

Beep—!

== ==

[With a successful enhancement and the weapon’s growth potential, up to three special abilities can be granted.]

[1) ⎯⎯(Empty)⎯⎯ ]

[2) ⎯⎯(Empty)⎯⎯ ]

[3) ⎯⎯(Empty)⎯⎯ ]

[※ Special abilities can only be granted using Magic Stones and are activated randomly.]

== ==

‘…Volundr?’