"Hooo..."
Roland let out a long sigh of relief as the "whispers" of the materials around him finally quieted.
He rubbed his aching brow and instantly activated his [Concentration] Trait.
Supported by his Spiritual Attribute of eighteen, his thoughts raced at an unprecedented speed.
In just a few monts, he had completely digested and absorbed the vast and complex knowledge granted by his new [Enchanter] Profession.
’Engraving Spell Patterns, imbuing items with Elental Attributes... So this is the power of an Enchanter...’
Gazing at the highly condensed Spiritual Power at his fingertips—like an invisible chisel and hamr—Roland marveled inwardly.
Without the slightest pause, he imdiately grabbed the hamr at his side.
The CLANG of hamring echoed through the workshop.
Soon, with a SIZZLE, a cloud of white steam rose as Roland pulled the newly forged blank from the quenching pool.
Grinding, polishing...
Soon, a brand-new Iron Sword lay silently on the anvil.
Feeling the nearly flawless Iron Sword in his hand, the corners of Roland’s mouth curled up slightly.
The combination of [Elental Imprint] and [Material Synesthesia] didn’t just affect his [Enchanter] Profession; it had also caused his Forging Skills to improve by leaps and bounds.
’An affinity for the Earth and Fire Elents...’
He whispered softly, caressing the smooth, cool blade.
Then, without a hint of hesitation, Roland’s gaze sharpened.
In that instant, Spiritual Power so dense it felt tangible condensed at his fingertips.
He focused completely, recalling the knowledge he had just acquired as he held his finger steady above the spine of the blade.
SSST!
With a soft hiss, the Spiritual Power from his fingertip cut into the tough tal surface like a hot knife through butter, instantly engraving a fine line.
The line extended as Roland moved his finger, and complex, orderly patterns began to slowly erge on the body of the blade.
During this process, Roland could clearly sense the elental particles in the air—once free-floating, like tiny specks of light.
The scorching Fire Elent and the heavy Earth Elent in particular were being drawn in. They flowed ceaselessly into his body through the Dragonbone Bracelet on his left wrist, finally converging at his right fingertip to be channeled precisely into the newly ford patterns.
These Elents, once as elusive as sprites, were now exceptionally docile. They flowed and leaped smoothly within the engraved channels of Magic Power, even faintly surging in response to the guidance of the patterns.
However, the Magic Conductivity of iron was limited, which still made the flow of the Elents feel sowhat sluggish.
Yet, in stark contrast to the effortless flow of the Elents, the act of engraving the patterns itself was imnsely taxing on Roland.
Fatigue crashed against his consciousness in waves, like a surging tide.
His imnse Spiritual Power was being continuously drained away. Sweat poured from his brow, and in just a few monts, a puddle had ford at his feet.
But Roland clenched his jaw, his eyes resolute, not slowing his hands in the slightest.
He lost track of ti, only stopping abruptly when the fine patterns finally covered the entire spine of the blade, outlining a complete arcane structure.
As if he had just finished a grueling fight, Roland gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he greedily drank in the air.
"It’s done!"
Once he’d caught his breath, Roland shook his dizzy head and raised the Iron Sword high.
Compared to a standard-issue Iron Sword, this one looked no different on the outside.
But with the combined effects of [Elental Imprint] and [Material Synesthesia], Roland could clearly ’feel’ two distinct Elental Powers surging within the cold steel.
They had different, incompatible attributes, yet they flowed in alternation like the closest of partners, creating a strange equilibrium.
’This is... absolutely incredible...’
Under the moonlight, the blade gave off a cold glint.
Roland suppressed the urge to test the sword imdiately. He set the Iron Sword down for the mont and turned to push open the workshop door.
It was late at night.
The Blacksmith Guild, once filled with the low murmur of voices, was now completely empty and silent. Only a few lonely lamps flickered in the gloom.
Roland did a careful sweep, confirming that no one else was in the guild. Only then did he turn back, pick up the Iron Sword, and head down a shadowy corridor.
A few monts later, he stopped before a massive wooden door.
He pushed open the heavy door and lit the torches on the wall.
The flickering torchlight quickly dispelled the darkness, illuminating the Testing Field, a room adjacent to the forge and sectioned off by thick stone walls.
This was the area specifically designed for testing newly forged equipnt.
The floor was covered in years of accumulated oil and gri, and the air was thick with the tallic tang of iron and the sll of damp wood.
In the center of the field stood several scarred sword-testing posts, with buckets full of cooling water beside them.
At the far end was a row of straw targets riddled with arrow holes, the ground before them etched with clear distance markers.
A heavy, curved anvil was fixed in one corner, along with a test dummy clad in dented armor.
A layer of tal dust floated on the surface of the massive quenching trough by the wall, while whetstones, small hamrs, and other tools lay scattered on a heavy wooden testing bench.
CLOMP, CLOMP, CLOMP!
The heavy thud of his leather boots on the stone floor sounded exceptionally clear in the dead of night.
The footsteps ca to an abrupt stop. Roland stood before a nearly pristine iron post forged from scrap tal, Iron Sword in hand.
HOOO...
He took a long, deep breath, relaxed his body, and deliberately suppressed all his combat instincts.
Then, in one fluid motion, he raised the blade high over his head.
SWISH!
A silver gleam flashed as the blade cut through the air, bringing a chill wind as it swung straight down.
However, the expected dull clang of tal on tal and the powerful shock of the impact never ca.
’That feeling...’
It was as if he hadn’t struck a solid iron post, but a soft straw dummy.
The blade passed through it without any resistance.
BANG!
Roland only snapped out of his astonishnt when the iron post before him cracked and fell apart in two halves.
He looked down to see that the break was astonishingly smooth and tinged with red.
Parts of it had even lted into molten iron, which was now slowly dripping to the floor.
SSSS...
As a wisp of white smoke rose with a scorched sll, the astonishnt in Roland’s eyes was quickly replaced by intense delight.
’An ordinary Iron Sword, made from common materials, can do this just by being imbued with Elental Attributes? And not only that...’
He recalled the sensation as he swung the sword and subconsciously clenched his left fist.
’The Elents in the sword’s patterns aren’t inert... They seem to respond to my will. They even... guide the free-flowing Elental Energy from the surroundings, continuously channeling it into the blade...’
Just as Roland was marveling at this, a faint humming sound reached his ears.
Looking toward the source of the sound, he saw the Iron Sword—the one he had just forged and had perceived to be of excellent quality. Now, a dense network of cracks was rapidly spreading across its blade like a spiderweb, following the arcane patterns.
Before he could react, his right hand suddenly felt light.
He looked again to see that the blade had shattered, crumbling into countless tal shards that clattered onto the ground.
’This is...’
Roland quickly reviewed the entire forging process. After confirming he hadn’t made any mistakes, he nodded in sudden realization.
’It seems ordinary materials can’t withstand the Elental Power surging within them... A single use was its absolute limit...’
Understanding the reason for this, Roland didn’t feel the least bit discouraged.
’If an iron weapon with such poor Magic Conductivity can be this powerful after being imbued with Elental Attributes, what about a material with better Magic Conductivity?’
’Besides...’
He subconsciously stroked the Secret Silver Longsword at his waist. His gaze drifted to the few arrows stuck in the target off to the side, and a slight smile touched his lips.
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