Reincarnated Swordmaster

Chapter Title: Dark Heaven Village

"Good machinery is needed, you say?

What's with the sudden talk?

And why do I have to go to the Western Regions?

Zhuge Sa cracked his knuckles as he spoke.

'Right--so, how many copies do you think a novel sells in a year these days?'

'No idea.'

'Even with metal type printing so advanced that the Great Ming Empire churns out over ten million books a year, most of them are classics, scriptures, or the trendy Wang Yangming studies. At least eighty percent help with the imperial exams, and the rest are treated as trash. Novels take up such a tiny share that even a thousand copies a year per title is a stretch—and that's only in big cities. Otherwise, they just gather dust in some old bookshop, never seeing the light of day. Realistically, three hundred copies sold means it's a smash hit. Unpopular ones just get passed around among friends.'

'......'

That few?

'Well, novels were pricey...'

Back when I was an escort warrior, I scrapped together every coin I had just to buy one and read it. Paper and books were precious, and trash like novels was hard to find, Zhuge Sa continued.

'Anyway, sales aside, that won't impress the Great Sage Who Equals Heaven. To move him, rile him up, and get his help, we need massive, visible success. The kind where your novel gets staged as opera in Luoyang.'

'Ugh... that's a bit...'

'Exactly. So we're going big. I plan to revolutionize papermaking and printing. Beyond what current civilization can handle. Explosive printing advances mean more books, easier fame for novels. Show me the Crystal Stele.'

As I pulled out the Crystal Stele, Zhuge Sa fiddled with its surface.

'This stele's exterior holds all alchemy's secrets. Civilization advances with fire temperature, and this records how to reach blue flames.'

'I know. You taught me.'

I nodded, picking up his words.

'Higher temps mean more metals you can smelt and refine easily.'

Fire shifts from red to orange, yellow, then white—and beyond to blue. Blue flames are insanely hot; almost no metal resists melting. I knew this from my alchemy studies.

'Printing ties to fire temperature too. Current tech misses metal and wood type; Goryeo leads Great Ming by about thirty years. I aim to leap two hundred years ahead using the stele's alchemy. Your life this time is likely short, so pushing hard is fine.'

I was stunned by Zhuge Sa's words.

'Two hundred years? Jump printing that far at once?'

'With this stele, five hundred years is doable. It condenses Hermes Trismegistus's divine alchemy secrets and millennia of research. Done right, you could manipulate atoms.'

Excited, he pressed on.

'Paper's easy too. Switch from handmade to automated, ditch rice paper for compression presses, invent new stock via the stele. Solves paper and tech at once.'

Zhuge Sa continued.

'But even I haven't mastered cutting-edge printing. Wasn't my focus—can't create from nothing. So we need advanced machines. Baek Woong, you handle it quick.'

'What do I do?'

'Go west, find the Alchemists' Guild. Learn their top printing tech or steal a machine.'

'......'

'Learning's tough—stealing's more realistic.'

I blinked, then snapped to.

'I'll give it a shot.'

Normally, I'd gripe it was impossible. But after endless adventures, hurdles like this didn't faze me—I'd just do it.

Zhuge Sa said.

'This is bigger than it seems. The Great Sage is moody, thrill him, and he'll shower you with favors. Solid aid plus his blessing could skyrocket our survival odds in Dark Heaven Village.'

'Got it!'

Let's do this!

I left Zhuge Sa to plan.

'Hmm... Visit that 'fake' Saint-Germain first?'

Last life, tracking the imperial alchemist, we found two with the name. Gut said start with the fake—speed things up. Fake or not, he's an alchemist, knowledgeable. Best lead to real alchemists.

Sss

I summoned the Imperial Seal's spirit for search.

'Imperial Seal! Use foresight to find alchemist Saint-Germain!'

[No thanks... you do it...]

'What?'

[No--finding now.]

Did this punk just sass me?!

As I gawked, the spirit reported results.

[Saint-Germain search: two hits.]

'Locations.'

[Here.]

One screen: old Westerner trembling in a shabby room, studying. Other: alchemist dosing a dragonkin with shady potion. I eyed them, then said.

'Precise spot on the old man.'

[Coordinates incoming.]

Whir

My mind locked the 'fake's coords. I could teleport there via Return. No hesitation—I went.

Flash!

The cramped room felt packed. The old man at his desk, quill in hand, spun in shock.

'#&*'%...@&*^&%!!'

Foreign tongue—untranslated. Grimacing, I grabbed a nearby ghost, soul-possessed it for translation.

'Pleased to meet you, old timer. I'm Maurits of Nassau. You a subject of our realm?'

'I-I...'

He stammered, then glared.

'S-soulbinder, are you?! What business here!'

Via Maurits's ghost, I replied.

'You the fake claiming to be Saint-Germain?'

'......?'

Bewildered, he shot back.

'Fake? Who are you? What's your game? Alchemist?'

'Answer my questions.'

'I am Saint-Germain! No fake.'

He smirked mockingly.

'Maurits of Nassau... Impersonating the famous Dutch independence war dead? Scram! Don't interrupt my research.'

'Curious about you and the real Saint-Germain. Same name coincidence?'

'What? Explain.'

'Anyway, alchemist—you know the Alchemists' Guild location? Or top printing press spot.'

'Eat shit, bastard!!'

Boom

He burst smoke bomb, fleeing—but useless on a master like me. I grabbed his arm, sealed his points at blinding speed. He blacked out. I hit him with Soul Separation to extract info.

'Why impersonate Saint-Germain? What're you doing in this backwater?'

Hypnotized, blank-eyed, he droned.

'Not... impersonating... I am Saint-Germain... Alchemist...'

'Huh?'

'I'm... real... No one else...'

He's real?

I reeled.

'Soul Separation prevents lies.'

Unless like Demon King Byeok Ji-sang faking Miho's charm for fun—immense power. Unthinkable, so I accepted him as real Saint-Germain. Maybe my technique's weak, failed full control—but didn't seem like a lie.

'Alright, assuming you're the real alchemist Saint-Germain... Know anyone who'd impersonate you?'

'Impersonate... that...'

He pondered, then.

'...Decades ago... Homunculus I created chasing Philosopher's Stone... Didn't recover all... Could be one...'

'What?!'

Homunculus?!

Eastern term: superhuman construct! Similar idea—human mimicry, different method. New truth dawning, I pressed.

'Good. Guild location, and west's top printing spot!'

'Alchemists' Guild... Under Druid Elder Merlin... In another realm... Past Mundus... Not this world... No magic or spells, can't reach... Must contact Magic Cabal... West's printing pinnacle: Great Britain Empire... Inventor crossed to New World... Made double-sided rotary press... Likely cutting edge...'

'Double-sided rotary press?'

'Automated, not manual... Prints tens of thousands short time...'

'New World?'

First I'd heard.

Questioning, Saint-Germain said.

'Marco Polo's tales sparked fury... Adventurers heading East... Stumbled on new continent... West... Colonizing now... Hottest curiosity spot... Land of adventure...'

'Hmm...?'

New World? I mulled, then got it.

'The great ocean's midst.'

I'd circled the world but skipped spots. Barely touched Tianzhu continent, [Black Continent] south of west. Knew massive continent across vast ocean—west from west, east from Dongyeong/Goryeo. Westerners exploring it now.

'How to reach New World?'

'Spain's Port Vel harbor... Holy Roman Emperor Charles V recruits adventure fleets nonstop... Sending to New World... At war with Great Britain Empire there... Join a fleet...'

'Good. More questions later—into my pouch!'

Shunk

I stashed Saint-Germain in my item pouch, then teleported via Heaven's Passage to Port Vel. Famous spot—eventually asked passerby, no spirit needed. Got New World map there, checked it.

'Hmm. Damn far...'

Vastly beyond England crossing. Ship mandatory—I pondered. Could I run it?

'...Take it easy.'

Possible, but why? Summoned Imperial Seal spirit.

'Inventor of double-sided rotary press—where?'

[Searching... Done.]

Coords fast. With info, search and teleport. Input, Return—gone.

Flash!

Broad coords, not on him—overlooking his camp from hill. Definitely New World; Western adventurers/troops below.

'Done!'

Circled the globe now!

Just Black Continent, poles left.

'Hm?'

Chill spidered my back.

Something's off.

Whumm

As unease hit, crystal clusters condensed like clouds yonder sky, then dispersed. Glanced—froze solid.

'...!!'

[Ancient Ruler]!

'What?!'

That bone-deep dread, divine power warping space/dimensions—only [Ancient Ruler]! Cloud crystals surely one.

Boom!

More appeared—two, three. Huge eyeballs, eighteen-legged horned freak giant. All [Ancient Rulers].

'Eeek.'

Panic—Return to flee. Failed.

'Shit!!'

Dove into cave, erased presence, played dead. Hope they lose interest, leave. No time for inventor.

Drip

Sweat poured. Beast-like stillness in cave, heart-pounding tension. Held breath, felt like vomiting organ.

How long—

Crept out, confirmed [Ancient Rulers] gone. Scanned area.

Massacre!

Western explorers, huge army—guts and gore everywhere, insides draped like veins. Organs gnawed—unviewable horror. Some twitched, alive.

'Ugh...'

[Ancient Rulers] just feasted on New World adventurers. Thousands slaughtered. Tiger survivor vibes—I shuddered.

'Damn... Summon inventor's soul quick, bail.'

Bitter mutter.

No more scouting here.

New World!

Wild [Ancient Rulers] roam free.

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