Chapter 98: Pain and Gain
After one of the few talks that had actually stirred him since birth, Seo-jin sat alone in his quarters, replaying every word like a ritual. The aftertaste of the deal still clung to him. Thragdur wasn't just stubborn—he was sharp, a man who could smile while skinning you alive. For a moment, Seo-jin had thought the forge work would come as a gift. Instead, he'd walked out owing more than he'd planned before the first strike of the hammer.
The price wasn't steep, just precise—an artifact from each realm, grade irrelevant. Simple on paper, heavy in meaning.
He ran through the numbers in his head. Once the Network started flowing again, the artifacts would come easy. Trade, steal, kill...didn't matter. The old dwarf wanted to dissect other worlds' craft, not own them.
"He wants their methods. When we get back, remind me to have John dig up anything on foreign forging. Even if he can find scraps, they'll make a decent chip to trade."
[Crafting knowledge is usually closely guarded. Any findings will be shallow at best.]
"Still worth trying."
[Noted.]
He leaned back on the cot, hands laced behind his head, the rough fabric pressing into his shoulders. The faint smile that wouldn't leave his face felt strange, alien.
"I know it's childish… but I hope it looks good."
Most of the night spent with Thragdur had been him laying out how he fought, how his body worked, bare bones, no extras. He'd held back what mattered, the things that made him dangerous, but it was enough. Thragdur had said the forge could bend with will; that if the smith saw the warrior's image clear enough, the metal would follow. Seo-jin hadn't understood it, not really, but the idea had sounded powerful in the forge-light.
He dropped his gaze to his bare feet hanging off the cot's edge. Doubt crept in, quiet and sharp.
"You think I picked right? Maybe should've gone for gauntlets or boots. Probably gonna look like an idiot."
[Considering how much your arms and legs distort during transformation, armor there would cripple your movement. Function over vanity.]
He grunted.
"Yeah. Guess so."
Regret still itched under his skin. Butcher's Wrath made the choice final, anything over his forearms would shear off the moment he drew the blades. He sighed and stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight settle in. Nothing left to do now but wait and see what the forge birthed.
Laying there for a moment, engulfed in the stillness, Seo-jin scanned his room again, trying to trace the cause of the quiet that had crept under his skin. The stone walls, the heat, the distant hum of forges, it all felt… safe. Too safe. His body had finally eased, muscles loose, heartbeat steady. Even his Corruption stayed still, a dull ember instead of the gnawing burn it usually was.
He hadn't expected that. When he'd first spoken with Thragdur, he'd kept count, worried about how long he'd stayed near them. An hour was the mark—by then, their minds should've started to twist, eyes to glaze, sanity to leak. But the dwarves stayed clean. Not a tremor. Not a hint of taint.
The system had chalked it up to their ale. If they were drinking the same brew that had nearly burned his throat raw, then maybe that was enough to keep the corruption at bay. Either way, it meant one thing—here, for once, he didn't have to measure his breath or watch his shadow crawl.
He let his thoughts drift. The idea of working with the dwarves, shaping something lasting with Thragdur and Brundar, almost felt pleasant. He pictured shared drinks, plans, the sound of the forge. The image made him grin.
"When I make them my slaves, that'll make it all the sweeter. The looks on their faces... fuck, that's gonna taste good."
[If you skipped the manipulation kink, you could probably have them working for free before long. Once you evolve, the forgemaster won't stand a chance.]
"Not everything's business. You have to enjoy the process."
[...Noted.]
The day burned away like that, quiet, restless, crawling. He cracked one of his soulstones halfway through, the drain to his soulmass was unavoidable without something to kill. Afterward, the silence came back. By nightfall, it was an itch he couldn't shake, scraping at the inside of his ribs.
"Bored...."
He kicked the piss pot over, metal clanging against the floor, and pushed to his feet. The door to his room groaned open, spilling him into a long dirt tunnel lit by glowing stone. Brundar waited just outside, motionless as a wall.
"You been standing there the whole time?"
"Yes."
Seo-jin stared, jaw tight. He should've sensed the dwarf before he even touched the handle. That meant they'd sealed the room—dampened his awareness without him noticing. The thought scraped like sand in his chest.
He buried it under a calm voice.
"If you're forging weapons, you must have somewhere to test them. A training hall, maybe? Take me there. I need to move."
Brundar studied him for a breath, reading the tension in his face, then nodded and started walking.
"Not much to see."
Seo-jin followed in silence, steps heavy, thoughts turning sharp.
'Did you catch anything?'
[Nothing.]
'I walked out blind, they could've slit my throat before I fucking knew it.'
The truth hit harder than he liked to admit. He'd gone soft, too calm, too sure of himself. Comfort had dulled his edge. He could feel it now, every slip, every mistake stacking on the last.
Same story as with Gregor. Same as Grimm. He let emotion steer him, let the world pull him by the throat. Weakness, plain and simple. Something that needed carving out before it rotted him deeper.
The itch was starting to gnaw worse than ever. It wasn't pain, more like static behind his eyes, a white noise he couldn't shut off. It scraped the inside of his skull, constant, unending.
He caught himself spiraling and forced a breath through his teeth, steadying. His gaze cut toward Brundar.
"How old are you?"
The dwarf thought on it, his answer flat.
"In human years? Over two hundred."
Seo-jin's brow twitched. Compared to that, he was a newborn. The thought only sharpened the urge to move, to fight, to bleed something clean out of himself. If he wanted to stop being an idiot, he needed to learn from one who'd lived long enough to make every mistake first.
"What were you before the break? Always a warrior?"
Brundar's fists tightened, the motion deliberate.
"All dwarves are shaped for battle, same as for the forge. But before, I led golem production. Now I kill snakes and spiders to feel useful."
Seo-jin filed it away. They reached a wide pair of stone doors, each etched with cracks and scorch lines. Brundar pushed them open with one hand. Seo-jin's eyes swept the space...bare, empty, dull.
He spoke as they stepped inside.
"What would you say to making a trade with me?"
"I can't speak for my people—"
"Not with your people. Just between us."
Brundar gave a snort, eyes narrowing like he'd just been handed filth. Seo-jin ignored it, disappointment souring the air. The hall was a graveyard, wooden dummies splintered to sticks, piles of mud for targets, boulders pitted with old strikes.
'Not what I hoped for. At least it's wide enough.'
He turned back to the dwarf.
"No tricks. No soul bargains. Just a straight trade between two warriors, far from home."
Brundar laughed once, then spat on the floor.
"No tricks from a demon? That's like fucking without a dick. Doesn't exist. Besides, what could I want from you? What could you even offer?"
"I want you to spar me. Point out flaws while we fight. Keep doing it until I'm clean of them. In return, I'll make getting your golem forges running again a top priority."
Brundar's expression twisted, disbelief sliding toward fury.
"That kind of work takes time, you idiot! We don't have any before the battle starts, and I'm not—"
"This isn't about now. After the island's yours, I'll keep coming back. You will keep teaching me."
The dwarf rubbed the side of his head, teeth grinding loud enough to hear. His stare hardened, full of the kind of hatred only earned through sense, like he was looking at the devil and realizing he'd already shaken its hand.
"Slick-tongued, addle-brained—fine! But if you don't improve, I walk. I'm not chained to your ass for life."
Seo-jin clapped once, grin sharp enough to cut.
"Perfect. I'll draft the—"
"No blood magic. Just keep your word, or I'll cave your skull."
Seo-jin's grin widened. He watched the dwarf stride to a bench, shedding gear with slow, deliberate motion. Cranky, stubborn, carved from stone, but solid. The kind of man you could rely on right up until you broke him. That thought made the coming ruin of him taste even better.
"So, how do we start? Hand to hand? Or straight to weapons? You've got wooden blades for sparring, right?"
He glanced around the hall and frowned. Nothing. Not a single training weapon in sight. When he turned back, his stare caught on the dwarf's body, and froze.
Brundar stood bare-chested, muscle stacked tight over even more muscle. His torso was a map of old burns, skin blackened and warped in places, lighter scars crossing over the deeper ones. The worst burn wrapped his entire waist like something had tried to saw him in half.
The dwarf saw where Seo-jin's eyes lingered and clicked his tongue.
"Prototype golem. Faulty one. Grabbed me straight from the forge the moment it woke."
Seo-jin's gaze traced the faint, circular pattern...finger marks burnt deep into flesh. He didn't need to imagine the rest; he knew the damage ran under the fabric, into the thighs, maybe higher. His throat tightened despite himself, the thought crawling down to his groin.
Brundar's glare cut him clean.
"My cock's fine. Now shut up and summon your weapons."
Seo-jin blinked.
"Already?"
The dwarf hefted his axe and stepped into the arena's center, aura thick as heat off molten steel. War fit him like a second skin.
"I want you to try and kill me. Then we'll see what you're worth."
Butcher's Wrath tore its way out of Seo-jin's arms, muscle splitting open to birth the twin cleavers. The sound alone was wet enough to make the dwarf flinch. It wasn't just a weapon, it was agony made visible.
Bloodlight poured from Seo-jin's skin in thin, writhing threads as he stepped forward.
"You sure about this? Would hate to have an accident."
Brundar spat, stance tightening.
"Don't worry, demon. I won't hurt you. Just try not to harm yourself."
A thin, vicious smile cut across Seo-jin's face as he raised his blades. The itch under his skin began to fade.
Then the hall exploded into noise...steel, flesh, and rage colliding like thunder.
----
Blinking through the blur, Seo-jin's vision crawled back into focus. Stone pressed against his ribs. He was half-buried in the wall, blood running from his nose, head ringing like a split bell. For a second, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there—just motion, then black.
He tore himself free with a snarl, dust and stone crumbling around him as his feet hit the ground.
"Always defend, even when you strike."
Brundar's voice came from somewhere ahead, steady and unhurried. The dwarf didn't even sound winded.
Seo-jin spat a thick rope of blood onto the dirt. His jaw ached. His pride worse. He hadn't landed a single hit. Not one. He hadn't used a skill, hadn't leaned on the system, but still, he hated how easily the dwarf had broken him apart.
Heat rose in his chest. His vision narrowed. He was about to charge again when something heavy hit the ground between them. A dull thump.
A pouch.
"Maybe try that on before you get your ass kicked again."
Thragdur's voice rumbled from the doorway.
Seo-jin froze. The Forgemaster had been there long enough to watch. He hadn't sensed a thing. Didn't matter. His eyes locked on the bag, breath caught in his throat. The weight of it pulled at the air, metal faintly humming inside.
His armor.
He stared down at it, the blood still warm on his lip, pulse beating heavy in his ears.
"Finally."