[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 451
The grades that can be seen with the Eye of the Divine Craftsman obtained from the Hall of the Blacksmith are fundantally divided into various tiers.
Starting from scrap grades that are practically unusable, then Normal, Rare, Unique, Legendary, Epic, and Divine.
There are many types, but in truth, up to Unique is within a range that can be produced without much issue.
From Legendary and above, however, it’s not just skill—whether the materials are available becos a major factor, so it inevitably requires far more effort.
In particular, even that level could be reached with blacksmithing ability alone, but if the Machine God’s Heart—which can alter the structure of materials—were to assist, then it goes without saying that the material’s grade would rise even further.
Before starting the work, I had received participation docunts from the administrators at the entrance of the royal castle of Dragon Forge.
“What the hell is wrong with this sword!? Material, luster! Durability! There’s nothing it falls behind in!”
“Tch! Your eyes are rotten! Cause a disturbance and you’ll be thrown out, so keep that in mind!”
It was quite noisy, with people grappling and arguing over why the weapons they made had been rejected.
I casually swept my gaze over a silver iron sword lying between a craftsman and a dwarf who were scuffling in the administrative departnt.
[Internal corrosion in progress]
[Rapid durability loss confird]
At best, that thing would destroy itself within a few months.
It was certainly durable, but it was obvious that they had forced things too much in order to make it look like a high-quality sword.
“What!? You’re saying my sword is weak!?”
“Why don’t you clash it with the others over there right now? I guarantee it won’t last more than a few exchanges before breaking.”
Though it was a simple iron sword, it still contained the know-how and techniques of nurous craftsn.
“I told you, I was short on ti! If I just had more ti—”
“What, you think everyone else had ti to spare to make theirs? Rejected!”
Watching that scene was actually quite entertaining.
When I returned holding the minerals provided by the administrative departnt, Luna—who had already co after I contacted her—was waiting for .
“Kyaa!!”
Elpiria was there too, flailing her arms and trying to jump into my arms the mont she saw .
“Elpiria!”
“Kyahaha!”
As I caught her, she seed delighted, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck and giggling.
Fortunately, the Unique rattle that had once driven everyone in the Cascadia estate into exhaustion was nowhere to be seen in her hands.
“You’re working here?”
“Yeah. It’s not the workshop I usually use, but the dwarf old man who owns this place said it used to be his son’s.”
Saying I’d gotten lucky, I rubbed my cheek against Elpiria in my arms, and she laughed happily.
Soon after, Grivy appeared, covered in dirt, carrying a skirtful of soil that emitted a strange glow, showing it to .
“Father! The thing you ntioned!”
“Good work, Grivy.”
“Hehehe. Then can Grivy go eat snacks now?”
“Yeah. Go have snacks and play.”
“Yes!”
Grivy, excited, ran off in a hurry, and soon after, Sur—who had been waiting for in front of the furnace—applied heat to the charcoal placed inside, igniting it and completely containing the heat.
Even though the flas flickered, it wouldn’t be strange for the entire workshop to heat up—but astonishingly, not a single bit of Sur’s heat leaked outside the furnace.
“This place. It’s filled with a lot of affection.”
“I’m not sure, but for soone who said he wasn’t a craftsman, that old man maintained it pretty well.”
Judging by it, the old man wasn’t soone without skill.
No—he seed to be soone with better technique than most.
“Where did the dwarf go?”
“No idea. He just left after entrusting the place.”
Elpiria, still in my arms, reached out toward nearby tools, flailing.
“Kyaa! Ahh!”
“No. Elpiria. Hot. Hot.”
When she looked at with a dissatisfied expression and began to whimper, Luna quickly scooped her up and soothed her.
“Leon. Anything I can help with?”
“Not really. I’m just loosening up anyway. Help later.”
“Do your best. I will look into more information about adamantium in the anti.”
She smiled softly and stood up.
And just like that, after Elpiria and Luna returned through the gate installed in my quarters—
I began working together with Sur.
“Let’s begin, Sur.”
—Piiik!!
Sur raised the temperature to exactly what I wanted.
To be honest, the facilities here weren’t very good.
Because of that, even raising the furnace’s heat properly was difficult.
The temperature I was about to reach was a staggering 4,000 degrees.
Considering that iron lts at around 1,600 degrees, it was an incomprehensible temperature—but it was necessary.
“Exactly 4,032 degrees. Can you do it?”
—Piiik!
Sur snapped into a salute and rapidly increased the heat.
From the mont it surpassed 3,000 degrees, the flas inside the furnace were no longer comparable to those of a normal workshop.
To even reach close to 3,000 degrees, one would need sothing like the central furnace of Dragon Forge.
The tal I would use now was nothing more than iron.
The various soils Grivy brought were only for use in processing—they didn’t alter the material itself.
That said, I wasn’t going to use the Machine God’s Heart to change the internal structure of the iron ingot either.
If I did that, it would beco sothing that could no longer be called iron—and then it would essentially beco sothing made of an entirely different material.
Naturally, from the perspective of the supervisors overseeing this commission, they would have no choice but to judge that I used sothing other than the designated material.
Then there was only one solution.
Leave the iron as it is.
Preserve that aspect of “iron,” while completely overturning everything else.
“Still, maybe it’s because this is Dragon Forge. The quality of the iron is really good.”
High-quality iron was quite a favorable condition.
I shoved the iron ingot into the crucible of heat that Sur had contained.
And then—pulled it out the mont I put it in.
The heat hadn’t even fully transferred, but traces of exposure to overwhelming heat faintly remained.
Kang!!!
Gripping it with tongs, I lightly struck it once, twice with a hamr.
It wasn’t a simple hamring.
The aura of the Divine Craftsman flowed along the surface of the hamr, seeping into the interior of the iron ingot like a shockwave.
After that, I waited until it completely cooled, then pushed it back into the furnace.
This ti, I took it out a little later than before.
After striking it two or three tis, I used Sur’s power to absorb all the heat attached to the ingot.
And then—again, instant heating.
Quenching.
Cooling.
I repeated that process over ten tis.
Afterward, I examined the iron ingot held in the tongs from various angles.
The surface had taken on a bizarre shape, as if it had lted and been pressed together, but strangely, the interior had not been affected at all.
“Ha… What exactly are you doing?”
When I turned my head, the dwarf old man was looking at with a bewildered expression.
In his hands was a carefully prepared dish.
“You’re back, sir.”
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
“No, I’m asking—what are you doing right now? If you do that, the iron ingot will beco unusable.”
“It’s a bit of personal know-how.”
Answering calmly, I tossed the iron ingot into the furnace and sat down on a nearby chair.
“Co to think of it, I’ve never heard your na, sir.”
“Hah… you little— That furnace… I don’t know what you did, but that fla is far hotter than iron’s lting point…”
“That’s right. Roughly around 4,000 degrees.”
“Blacksmithing isn’t sothing where hotter fire solves everything.”
“Of course I know that.”
At my calm response, he looked at blankly, then let out a hollow laugh.
“Right. Well, it’s your business. You asked my na, did you? I’m Dobog Iron.”
“Dobog Iron… I see. I’m Leon. Leon Cascadia.”
At my reply, he nodded.
It seed he didn’t know who I was.
“But… didn’t you say 4,000 degrees? Then why is that iron…”
“You asked what I was doing earlier, right?”
“Uh… yes?”
“I’ll show you now. What I’ve done.”
The heat of heated iron can be judged by its color.
But to both Dobog’s eyes and mine, the ingot’s color only appeared to be that of perfectly heated iron.
I took out the ingot.
At the sa ti, as it left Sur’s crucible of heat, trendous heat swept across the surroundings.
“Ugh! What trendous heat… Strange. At that level of heat, the iron shouldn’t hold up…”
Instead of answering, I placed the ingot on the anvil and brought the hamr down.
Piiing!!!
It was a mystical sound.
At the bizarre sound that could not be thought of as iron colliding with a hamr, he froze.
“What is that sound…”
“Oh. That worked well.”
Leon smiled faintly and raised the hamr.
Piiing!! Ping!!
The strange sound echoed through the workshop.
* * *
The young man hamring in front of Dobog’s eyes was human.
Dwarves, proud of their own skills, usually had little interest in items crafted by humans or elves.
But to him, who had lived a long life, the scene before him was extrely unusual.
The young man still seed inexperienced.
Just a dream-filled youth—and looking at him reminded Dobog of his dead son, so he had brought him into the workshop.
His skill didn’t matter.
Just seeing a young man with a similar build to his son hamring would allow him to vividly recall his son from long ago.
Perhaps that was why—he had put unusual effort into cooking, and if the youth seed stuck, he had even thought of lending him so knowledge.
Though he had said he wasn’t a craftsman, Dobog had once been a fairly renowned artisan.
Now, after losing his son, he was rely a retired old man in the back room.
And so, when he entered the workshop, what he saw was entirely different from what he had expected.
A furnace heated to a level that shouldn’t be possible for processing iron, yet appearing perfectly fine.
And the youth casually inserting and removing iron, hamring it in a bizarre way before putting it back in.
He couldn’t understand it.
From the perspective of soone who had honed skill and know-how for a long ti, what the youth was doing was nothing more than ruining the material.
Was he just an ignorant fool overflowing with reckless spirit?
That’s what he had thought.
But there wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in the youth’s eyes.
As if saying—this is correct.
To be honest, from the perspective of a forr craftsman, it wouldn’t have been strange to get angry and call this an insult to craftsmanship.
If it had been another dwarf, they might have thrown a hamr outright.
But he didn’t.
Seeing the youth’s eyes reminded him of his son.
The eyes of a son who lacked skill but was full of passion.
Eyes brimming with confidence.
It was slightly different—but it felt similar.
So he thought this:
Since eting like this must be fate… perhaps he should take him in as a disciple and teach him.
Just as he was about to say that—watching the youth toss the iron ingot into the superheated furnace—
Sothing unexpected began to happen.
The iron ingot, which should have lted, endured while emitting a beautiful red glow, as if it were at just the right temperature.
And when the youth took it out and struck it with a hamr—
At a sound he had never heard in his life, he stood there blankly, watching.
After that, Dobog could only stare blankly at everything the youth did.
Even seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn’t understand it.
Normally, that shouldn’t happen.
The ingot should have cracked and shattered.
Why did the red-hot workpiece not lose its glow when subrged in cooling liquid, but instead burn even brighter?
His mind filled with confusion.
‘What is this… am I dreaming?’
The strange hamring sound soon turned into a clear, resonant tone.
No iron had ever made such a sound when struck.
‘That… is that not iron? No… it should be iron…’
As he stood there in confusion, he realized that quite so ti had passed.
The youth’s actions carried a sense of leisure.
In the first place, unlike other workshops, this one had no rental ti limit.
Eventually, when he smoothly pulled out the sword that had been subrged in oil, he saw that strange, rune-like characters had been engraved on the blade’s surface.
That wasn’t simple engraving.
Those patterns resembling characters had all been hidden within the blade like a Damascus sword and had now erged.
“Sur. Cover the blade surface at exactly 2,250 degrees.”
—Piiik!
As the mysterious bird opened its beak, invisible heat wrapped around the sword.
Seeing that, Dobog felt a chill.
‘That… is that an iron sword? Or sothing else?’
As if possessed, he stepped closer and examined the sword up close.
In his eyes flickered an indescribable obsession—and madness for blacksmithing.
“The weapon is complete… now I just need to make one piece of armor?”
If both passed, then next was to prove skill in handling the special minerals provided by Dragon Forge.
With that in mind, he made a decision.
“W-Wait a mont!”
He hurriedly ran off and soon returned carrying a large iron sword.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary iron sword, but in reality, it was made of black iron known for its hardness.
While he was fetching the sword, Leon had already finished his blade and was smoothly grinding the heated surface to sharpen the edge.
“Your… your hands are alright?”
“Ah, yes. No problem. This much is nothing.”
Seeing him hold the red-hot blade with his bare hands made Dobog feel as if his own hands were burning.
He had thought he was just an empty-headed fool—but that wasn’t the case.
“If… if it’s not too much trouble, may I take a look at the sword?”
“You, sir? Well, I don’t mind.”
At the calm reply, he stared intently at the cooled sword.
Like an appraiser evaluating a gemstone, his sharp gaze swept over the entire blade.
The weight.
The balance.
The condition of the edge.
The state of the blade surface.
Everything else as well.
Then, as if entranced, he drew the black iron sword.
“May I swing it?”
“That… isn’t that black iron sword expensive?”
“It’s fine. It’s one I made long ago.”
“You said you weren’t a craftsman.”
Without answering, he fixed the black iron sword in a vise.
Then—he grasped the sword Leon had made and raised it high.
“Hup!!!”
Swoosh!!
With a chilling sound, the solid black iron sword was cut cleanly in a single stroke.
“My goodness… my masterpiece from my pri… You… just who are you?”
“What do you an? I told you earlier. Leon Cascadia.”
“Hah… I can’t believe it even after seeing it with my own eyes. I’ve never heard of such a processing thod. It’s clearly an iron sword… it is iron… but its strength, ductility, and edge retention feel as if it’s not iron at all.”
“That’s not wrong. It is iron. But it’s been processed into a special kind of steel.”
“Special steel?”
Looking puzzled, he cleared his throat.
“Ahem! My apologies. It seems to be a secret technique. I’ve asked too much.”
“No, it’s nothing special. Just like mixing iron to make a blade strong against tension and impact, I twisted the grain of the ingot and then twisted it once more.”
It was an answer he couldn’t comprehend.
“To put it simply, you can think of it as having mixed with aura to beco the strongest steel.”
Iron so strong that it couldn’t even be sharpened without heating.
That was sothing Dobog had never heard of in his life.
“This… is a treasured sword. Not an ordinary one.”
“A treasured sword…? It’s just an ordinary sword made of iron.”
“You… you call this an ordinary iron sword? No, that won’t do. The sword you’ve made must carry that level of value! At the very least, give it a na! Give it a na!”
“A na? Hmm… then let’s call it Black Night Sword No. 3.”
“Black… Night Sword No. 3?”
The third successor to the swords that had broken while going back and forth between No. 1 and No. 2 had finally appeared—but Dobog couldn’t understand.
Nor could he comprehend just how trivial the value of those Black Night Swords No. 1 through 3 was to the man nad Leon.
[Translator - Night]
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