I hear the voice of iron
I hear the voice of iron
Before completely changing the method, I needed to identify the root cause of this contamination.
"It's natural for iron dust to fly around in a forge, but that's not just a matter of it flying over and sticking."
Garun hesitated, his hand stopping as he stroked his beard, at my question about how that iron dust ended up stuck to the apron.
Garun opened his mouth, looking at the wet apron with affectionate eyes.
"The process of forging a master sword is a battle between the iron and the blacksmith. We heat it in thousands of degrees of flame and strike it with a hammer to remove impurities. But... it doesn't always yield a good result. There are times when the iron finally fails to endure the weight of that harsh tempering and hammering."
"So the sword breaks."
"That's right. At the moment of shaping its final form, the sword that cannot withstand the limit explodes like a bomb on the anvil. It becomes a broken sword."
Garun tapped his broad chest.
It was the very spot the apron had been covering.
"The fragments of those swords get embedded in the apron made of Wyvern Leather."
"Is that all?"
"Hm?"
"Is the source of the iron dust on that apron entirely just swords that broke because they couldn't withstand the smelting, forging, and tempering?"
"You're not ordinary. You saw even that far?"
Garun gave a bitter smile.
"That's not all. There are also those from which countless iron dust particles fell off during the polishing and forging process. Steel that couldn't quite become a master sword."
"So the hard iron embedded in that apron is the fragments of swords that failed to become master swords."
"That's right. The processes are different, but they all share the same commonality."
Only then did I understand perfectly.
'It was hot...'
'It hurts, I broke. I couldn't become a master sword.'
Those thoughts that were ringing inside the water tank.
The fragments that leaped into the creator's chest as they shattered on the anvil.
They were afraid of being discarded as failures, so they had clung desperately to the blacksmith's embrace.
Garun gave a bitter smile.
"The equipment dwarves handle is imbued with powerful magic. They probably couldn't withstand that, either."
"That's why you said they were Sword Spirits."
"That's right. We forge swords by listening to that sound."
He continued, looking at the apron spinning in the machine.
"Dwarves hear the sound of steel. We forge swords based on that sound. The level of an artisan depends on how clearly we can hear that sound."
Garun's gaze shifted from the washer to me.
"Why are you asking that? Wasn't it all supposed to be over?"
"I heard the voice."
"You heard the voice of the iron dust?"
"Yes."
His beard trembled slightly.
He closed his eyes, as if lost in thought.
"You're not a dwarf, yet you can hear their sound?"
"...Yes, I can."
"What kind of resonance was it?"
"Resonance?"
"I mean the pitch of the sound. I also want to ask about the intensity of the vibration. Usually, we follow what they desire based on the pitch and length of their crying."
Hmm.
That wasn't what I heard.
"What I heard wasn't a cry, but a voice."
"A voice?"
"Yes."
"......You said you heard a voice?"
"Yes."
He had a look of disbelief.
"I don't understand. Those who heard the voice of the sword directly were from a very long time ago...."
Garun, momentarily flustered, opened his mouth.
"What did they say?"
"They said they wanted to be useful weapons too, but they couldn't."
"They couldn't be weapons?"
"Yes."
"Was it a sound made by one person?"
"No. It was many voices."
Garun shut his mouth, as if shocked.
He looked at the apron spinning inside the Magic Resonance Washer.
"They said they couldn't be weapons...? Many voices...?"
Did he think of something?
He kept his mouth shut and fell into thought.
But I, too, had reached a conclusion.
That the contamination on this apron was not something that could be removed in this way.
It was impossible to remove these things with waves.
"Garun-ssi."
"Yes."
"I'll stop the ultrasonic cleaning here."
"Yes? But more than half of the iron dust is still stuck on there...."
"I won't force it off. Because what those guys want isn't to be discarded."
"Discarded?"
I pulled the wet apron out of the water tank.
And I placed the iron dust that had been removed by the power of the washer back onto the apron.
"What is this...! They are things containing Sword Spirits, so if you put them back like that, they'll stick again! Stop at once!"
"Cleaning is my specialty. Please follow my opinion."
"But...."
He couldn't continue his sentence.
"Now, now, customer, drink a glass of cold water and calm down."
Because Elena was calming him down by pouring him a glass of cold water.
"It's a glass imbued with divine blessings. It will settle your stomach."
The ice water was handed over with a professional smile.
In an instant, an additional cost of 300,000 won was added.
Garun, having drunk the ice water, asked me.
"Do you have a plan?"
Was it the effect of the holy water?
His voice had calmed down significantly.
"I'm going to fuse these into one solid piece."
"Fuse them into one?"
"Yes."
Each one was a separate piece of iron.
They were tormenting Garun, who hears the sound of Sword Spirits, by making separate voices.
To him, it must have been an ensemble full of dissonance.
That's why he couldn't properly hear the sound of the steel on the anvil and ended up blowing up his equipment.
That means.
If I can tune them, I can turn that ensemble full of dissonance into a magnificent harmony.
"Is that possible?"
"It is."
There was only one thing they wanted.
The types of metal used and the forging and polishing methods were different, but they all wanted to be swords.
I just need to make that wish come true.
How?
Well.
Wouldn't powerful heat do the trick?
"Understood. Do as the Saint wishes. It means the Saint saw what I could not see....... I will step back."
I placed the wet apron flat on the large ironing board in the middle of the workshop.
A large ironing board made for giants.
As I placed the dwarf's apron on it, the entire surface spread out.
And I covered it with Adhesive Interlining, a stiff special fabric used to hold the skeleton of a garment.
"I'm going to create a skeleton to hold the center from now on."
I sprayed water evenly over the apron with a spray bottle.
-Hummm.
The sounds of iron ring out anxiously.
I took out the iron.
"Are you going to do it with that?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you use mysterious equipment earlier? Is that also equipped with some special device?"
He shone his eyes as if wondering if there was some amazing magic device inside the iron.
An artisan, indeed.
"It's not like that. This job doesn't require high-end equipment."
"Not required?"
"Because these guys have different symptoms than the other equipment or clothes I've cleaned so far."
The iron emitted heat.
I said it was an ordinary iron, but it is a bit special.
It's one with a much higher temperature limit than a regular iron to press flame-retardant equipment.
Other than that, there was nothing special about it.
Hiss-!
The moment the iron touched the fabric, a massive amount of steam was released.
At the same time, a heavy vibration traveled through the handle of the iron to my fingertips.
-Hot! It hurts!
-I don't want to break! I don't want to be discarded!
-I want to be a sword. I want to be a beautiful sword.
The thoughts of the Sword Spirits ringing in my ears.
The fear from when they were shattered on the anvil, continuing from hundreds of years ago.
The desperation they felt as they dug into the apron for fear of being discarded came rushing in vividly.
I put my weight into the hand pressing the iron and pressed down with all my might.
"I won't discard you."
At my quiet utterance, Garun flinched and shook his shoulders.
"Saint, you just...?"
But my gaze was directed only at the iron dust under the iron.
"You endured the hottest fire and withstood the heaviest hammering. Just because you broke at the end doesn't mean the intense time you went through becomes fake."
High-temperature steam, which even presses flame-retardant equipment, wrapped around the entire apron broadly and heavily.
The work of pressing the entire surface steadily.
It was the laundry shop's hammering, applying constant warmth and heavy pressure over a wide area to strongly bind the scattered fragments into one.
-Hum, hummm.......
There is a recoil.
I can feel in my hands the resonance of the Sword Spirits that didn't want to fall off, that couldn't become swords.
I can feel in my hands the will of the iron dust that resists my power, my ironing.
My hand trembled as if it would bounce off at any moment.
Hundreds, thousands of voices hit my ears like noise.
The moment I made contact with them, the voices of the iron dust, aged over many years, burst out from all sides.
The countless sounds of splitting.
In the wailing, tears, and screams, there was only one thing they wanted.
-I want to be a wonderful finished product born from the hands of an artisan.
Yes.
I will make what you wish for come true.
Each one is just a worthless piece of iron dust.
But if they are fused into one, it might be a little different.
"I'll make it so you can become real."
I turned the steam output to the maximum and clearly conveyed my will to them.
"So stop clinging to the leather now and move over here. I'll fuse you into one solid piece."
The force resisting my ironing disappears.
-Hummm!
The resonance gradually fades.
The iron touched the fabric.
And I pushed the iron slowly and heavily.
I could feel the iron dust loosening its bond from the leather and rising on its own wherever the heat and pressure passed.
"You will be able to become the most excellent and useful weapon you so desired."
[The thoughts of the cleaning target perfectly resonate with your will.]
[The contaminants are loosening their bonds on their own and taking on a new form!]
-Hummm-!!
In an instant, the iron sound, which had been like a scream, changed into a clear, resonant sound full of joy, filling the workshop.
Whoosh-!
The steam cleared, and as I lifted the iron, a dazzling silver light poured down.
Garun's apron, made of Wyvern Leather, regained its original bright brown color.
And on the Adhesive Interlining I had covered it with, a thin, silver-shining steel plate was attached.
It was the appearance of the black iron dust that had been stuck to Garun's apron until now, combined into one.
It was the result of the Sword Spirits, which even the dwarf's rough hammering couldn't remove, letting go of their lingering attachments on their own.
One purpose.
Steel that had become one under the purpose of wanting to be a finished product.
It was top-grade steel created by hundreds of years of tempering.
A top-quality Wyvern Leather apron that had shed hundreds of years of dirt and become as light as a feather.
And the soul of steel that had gained a new form and was shining clearly.
"Oh, ohhh......!"
Garun, who had been watching the marvelous sight, knelt on the spot.
"Th, this is possible....... Th, this is a result I've never heard of before!"
His eyes were not looking at the apron that had shed hundreds of years of dirt.
He was captivated by the new soul of steel shining brilliantly in silver.
"This is the first time I've seen steel that makes such a perfect sound. I've touched countless steel ingots so far, but this is the first time I've seen an alloy that makes such a beautiful sound."
Thick tears dripped down the cheeks of the old dwarf who had touched steel all his life.
"To think I tried to throw away steel that could make such a beautiful sound......."
He touched the silver steel plate with trembling hands.
His eyes, looking at the steel plate, reached me.
"Saint....... Eungong-nim, you really were a Saint."
It was a voice that came from a much deeper place than when he was admiring good equipment.
"This is the first time I've been this happy. Living for hundreds of years, I thought there would be no artisan better than me....... Today was a day where that thought was completely overturned!"
His tone toward me changed.
"You can delay your retirement a little longer now."
"Retirement......? I cannot retire. Having seen this level, how could I retire......."
Garun, who had already raised his tone toward me, touched the steel plate.
"I think I understand a little bit about what it feels like to hear the voice of steel. Saint-nim."
Garun, who was touching the steel plate, said to me.
"Could you give me the opportunity to make a tool for you, Saint-nim?"
"A tool?"
"These are saying it. They are saying they want to be held in your hands."
Garun's eyes, holding the soul of steel, shone brightly.
"Please allow me to make your tools with these."