Chapter 78
Reconstruction (4)
Sehyun pushed open the heavy door before him.
At once, a scene buried within Do-young’s subconscious memories appeared.
A scruffy little child.
And beside him stood a woman.
The long hem of her long skirt fluttered in the wind.
“Is that what Grandma looked like when she was younger?”
He never imagined he’d see Grandma’s past self here.
Though if it really were Grandma, he would’ve expected her to be wearing something like a hanbok.
Sehyun stroked his chin as he watched the woman.
Just then, young Do-young, who had been walking hand in hand with her, tripped and fell.
— Ouch!
— Are you okay?
She turned back, offered her hand, and helped the boy up.
The moment Sehyun saw the woman’s face, his expression hardened.
“…What the hell?”
Why are you here?
— Come. I know a place where you’ll be safe.
With a gentle smile, she helped the little boy to his feet and walked toward a dim place.
“With what face… are you acting so warm and kind?”
Sehyun unconsciously grit his teeth.
He knew this woman far too well.
The person he hated most in the world.
He stared at her with a stiff expression.
She held the child’s hand and walked toward the workshop.
— It’s all right. You don’t have to be scared.
She kept soothing the trembling child.
Sehyun bit his lip.
The woman he remembered was nothing like this.
Cold like someone who wasn’t even his parent, a person who seemed to know neither emotion nor warmth.
He had no good memories of her.
Even the faintest sense of familiarity had long lost all color.
“Yeah. Ever since the day you left.”
A memory from when he was seven resurfaced.
His father clung to her clothes, sobbing.
His mother walked out the door alone, not even taking a suitcase—
as if there was nothing in this house she wanted to take.
Young Sehyun watched through the crack in the door.
“Back then, I actually felt relieved you were leaving.”
Even before she left, he already saw her as a distant stranger.
“You never once held my hand. Never stroked my head. Never patted my back.”
Like he was some disgusting creature she couldn’t bear to touch—
like he’d infect her with something if she did.
For seven years, young Sehyun endured the look of a mother who lacked even the slightest maternal affection.
Children feel that kind of thing more keenly than adults.
So he was glad.
He believed he would finally have a peaceful home with his kind father.
But reality wasn’t so kind.
“After you left… Father lived like someone whose soul had vanished.”
From that day on, conversation vanished from the house.
Father met no one and buried himself only in work.
The ones who cared for suddenly-alone Sehyun were In-ha and her father.
“Thanks to that, I grew up fine even without you. Even without Father. But Mom…”
His lips trembled and stopped.
Even though the word was the first any child learns.
He thought he was over it, but even now it was hard to speak.
“You’re the one who turned me into this.”
So why—
why was she showing warmth to a child who wasn’t even her own?
While Sehyun was lost in thought, the scenery continued.
A group of men rushed toward the entrance of the workshop.
They wore black coats like assassins from the Joseon era.
— Young lady! Are you truly planning to go?
— Don’t call me that. I’m nothing but a traitor who destroyed the Legacy Stone.
— A successor who abandons her duty… earns only death.
The assassins’ words made Sehyun frown.
“Successor…?”
Then the woman’s voice echoed.
— Close your eyes.
When little Do-young squeezed his eyes shut, she reached toward her empty waist and clenched her fist.
Ssssss—
A hidden sword materialized in her hand, and a blue dragon-embroidered royal robe draped over her shoulders like a cloak.
— Drop the sword! This is your final warning!
Ignoring them, she took a ready stance.
A dark blue dragon aura wrapped around the blade, then shot forward, slicing a man in one stroke.
With only her lone body, she charged into more than a dozen men.
But she cut them all down effortlessly, as gracefully as a dragon swimming through the sky.
When the fight ended, she flicked the blood from her sword, and both the blade and the robe dispersed into the air.
She approached little Do-young, who remained crouched with his eyes shut, and placed a hand on his head.
— You can open them now.
The boy slowly opened his tightly shut eyes.
— Let’s go.
She took his hand and disappeared into the deep darkness of the passage.
“……”
Sehyun’s mind was tangled.
Of course it was.
This was an inner world.
Not even his—
this was Do-young’s inner world.
“Hah…”
He exhaled slowly, calming his emotions.
Seeing his mother here was unexpected, yes…
“But that woman is an issue for later.”
He forced himself to think rationally.
He’d been thrown off for a moment, but he wasn’t going to break down like a child over old feelings.
There was no time for that.
Grandma was losing her life by the minute.
Even if she slowed it by petrifying her body like an old tree, it didn’t change the fact she was dying.
Saving Grandma took priority over everything.
“She must’ve met Grandma at some point too. I can ask later.”
“For now, I just need to keep going up.”
He looked down at the hammer in his hand.
Grandma’s soot-blackened hammer.
A new divine tool forged to mend the Celestial Seal—
a hammer that had to be shaped within Do-young’s inner world.
It was something Do-young should’ve carried.
“And you left this with me… and reverted to your younger self?”
In the real world, he’d somehow endured.
But emotions were honest here.
Wanting someone else to take responsibility—
that desire had manifested in this form.
“Hah… When we get out of here, I’m going to beat the hell out of you.”
Step, step—
Sehyun walked in the direction Do-young and the woman had vanished.
After some distance—
“Hic… hic…”
He heard someone sobbing.
“No way…”
He hurried forward and found young Do-young standing alone, quietly crying.
The boy lifted his head when Sehyun approached.
“Mister… who are you?”
Of course, a child made from memory would speak.
“Well, I guess that’s not strange.”
Everything in this scenery symbolized Do-young’s emotions.
Some memories couldn’t interact.
Others were “real” figures with different appearances.
“Like you—who looks like a kid but isn’t.”
He looked seven, but within him was a man in his mid-twenties.
Honestly. Even escapism has limits.
“I told you, idiot. You have to make the seal.”
“H-huh? Mister, what are you—”
“Meaning…”
He raised the hammer high.
“W-what are you doing, mister?!”
Ignoring the terrified boy, Sehyun swung the hammer downward.
“AAAAARGH!!!”
BOOM!!!
The hammer pressed heavily against the child’s chest.
A jolt of energy surged between the hammer and Do-young.
“Kh…!”
The boy gasped and wrapped his small hands around the hammer pressed to his chest.
“Sehyun… ssi?”
“You awake?”
“What do you mean awake? Where even is this…? And why do I look like—”
Do-young looked around, then down at his own body—
the body of his seven-year-old self.
“Why else? This is your inner world.”
“My… inner world?”
Sehyun gave a short explanation.
The inner world—
a sanctum only those possessing their own myth could have.
Memories internalized into experience, refined into a story—
a realm allowed only for those who had achieved great feats.
Do-young, who hadn’t even completed his training, shouldn’t have been able to create this.
“We forced it open. To awaken you as an Artifact Maker.”
“Ah… so that’s why.”
Sehyun had undergone this process in a past life too.
After receiving Ha Il-hwan’s proposal.
After learning the basics of forging from Grandma.
To become someone capable of creating artifacts, one had to enter the inner world.
That was the “one who stands on the boundary” that Ha Il-hwan spoke of.
Neither awakened nor unawakened—
a unique state.
And the requirement was simple:
Possess no astral power, yet hold a personal myth.
Do-young was ideal.
He had no astral power because he wasn’t a Player.
And he had experience forging divine weapons at Baekdusan.
“Well, at first I was worried when you didn’t appear… but you finally showed up.”
Even if he manifested as a child because he belittled himself,
he had at least stepped forward.
“And that—does it feel heavy now?”
“Oh… now that you say it…”
Do-young was holding the hammer lightly against his chest.
In the real world, overwhelming astral pressure had made it barely liftable.
He must’ve found some kind of answer within himself.
Sometimes you don’t need a grand turning point—
just facing yourself is enough.
“If you’ve found your answer…”
“Answer…?”
“The answer to why you’re locked away making weapons.”
It probably began with gratitude toward Grandma.
He had received kindness and naturally accepted her teachings.
But what came after mattered more.
Anyone can start.
But continuing—without letting the spark die—
takes resolve.
“With someone better already there, why do I have to make weapons?”
Without an answer, the fire of creation would die.
“You ran from the question at first. Left the hammer with me.”
“…”
The one who repaired the divine relic.
The one Grandma acknowledged.
Admiration, jealousy, inferiority—
they twisted into a warped idol.
Do-young had put Sehyun in the place he should’ve stood.
“But well, at least you appeared now.”
“…Is that so?”
“Of course.”
If he hadn’t shown up, Sehyun would have smashed the hammer into the scenery and ended everything.
Entering the inner world only to gain nothing.
And worse—
Do-young might have been crushed by guilt and never touched the hammer again.
“That’s why it’s good. You acknowledged your younger self and came forward.”
“…I see.”
Fwoosh—!
Their conversation continued as they reached the celestial basin.
Instead of a clear lake, flames roared upward like they were burning the sky.
Do-young looked down at the lava lake, eyes reddened.
“You said the inner world visualizes my emotions, right?”
“Right.”
He stared quietly into the molten lake.
Still searching for an answer.
Emotional burdens materialized here.
So what did it mean—
that he had thrown his hammer into this lava?
At last, as if making a decision—
Whoosh—
He walked forward and leaped into the lava, hammer in hand.
Embracing every burden—
yet wearing the most peaceful expression he’d ever shown.
