Why Become Human? (1): The Sword That Gained a Soul
Why become human?
Weapons are good.
It was something that every man would agree with. Every man was once a dreaming boy. And is there anyone who doesn't dream of holding a weapon among the dreaming boys?
The smell of oil and gunpowder vibrating in the gun is good.
The heavy body and powerful firepower of the cannon is good.
Giant weapons that seem to come out of imagination, or humanoid robots are good too.
But among them, what I like the most is the cold weapon.
'Even imagining it is the best.'
Some people might belittle cold weapons as just simple, transparent, and brutal pieces of metal.
Or say it's just a relic of the past that was pushed to the background with the advent of guns and gunpowder.
But what can I do? I fell in love with that cold relic of the past at first sight.
'When I found a wooden branch that looked like a knife, I swung it as if it was a real sword.'
Anything was fine: wooden branches, small stones, toys. From childhood, if there were things that looked like cold weapons, I went wild with joy.
Anyone of that age would mostly do the same, but I was different from most boys. Even as I grew older, the heart that revered metal pieces didn't die and burned even more fiercely.
I wanted to touch the real sword, not a wooden one, steel spears, bronze maces, national bows, twin blades, fan blades, Japanese swords, large shields.
I wanted to hold them in my hands and swing them.
And not just swing or own them───
Clang!
───I wanted to make them myself with these two hands.
The relics of the past, the brutal pieces of metal, those things that are useless in modern times.
I wanted to carve them myself, shape them, build the framework, and forge them!
Just for that will, I graduated from university and went directly into a workshop in Korea that were few in number. I learned from intangible cultural heritage holders, became an apprentice of a craftsman who makes everything by hand one by one, and observed the process of being made through mechanical processes.
However, in modern society dominated by capitalism and advanced weapons, cold weapons were ultimately just for play and viewing. They are displayed in museums, consumed as strange spectacles through YouTube or SNS, and that's all the intangible cultural heritage artisans do is to put food in their mouths.
Can blacksmiths make money? The answer is no. And in a capitalist society, only that determines the social position of the blacksmith profession.
But even so, I liked all those processes. Whether I make money or not doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if it's not a job recognized in society. The cold weapons I made with my own sweat and blood were like my children, and each one was lovable.
And I had that dream. In Korea, everyone would laugh at and think that dream unrealistic.
Clang! Clang!
"……Whew."
I was only reproducing it with the body of a 12-year-old child.
Holding the handle of the iron tongs with small hands wearing thick gloves. Even though I wrapped a cloth soaked with water on my forehead to protect my eyes, my eyes naturally closed from the scorching heat.
I looked at the forge where sparks fly, and with all my might, I stomped on the bellows sticking my head into the forge. Because my body is still small, I couldn't do it with one foot, so I had to jump with both feet and stomp down.
Whoosh! Hiss!!
Through the bellows inscribed with wind magic, the air injected stoked the flames of the forge, and the fire-setting stone stimulated it, increasing the flames. Then, the long rod inside it rose with intense light, not red but bright, and heated up.
I counted the time, and without time to wipe the sweat flowing like rain, I quickly pushed the iron tongs to pull out the rod.
"Again……!!"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
With one hand fixing the steel rod with the tongs, with the other hand swinging the hammer to bend and straighten the red-hot rod. In the process, the steel rod spewed out slag like debris.
People often think that a strong blacksmith is good, but actually it's not. In hammering, it's not about striking hard, but about repeating the same position with the same force thousands of times.
The steel that heated up in the forge is malleable after just a few hammer blows. In this state, if you hit one side just a little more, the steel starts to bend. Even a difference of 0.2mm in thickness on both sides breaks the balance, and during quenching, the difference widens. The cold weapon made that way becomes useless junk.
So, while removing the slag, I had to hammer the steel rod evenly and uniformly. But is there a law that the body follows what the head knows? I only started to grasp the sense after making junk dozens of times.
So, I repeated the process of hammering the steel, putting it in the forge, pressing the bellows, and hammering again.
"Ha, ha……."
Sweat flowing into my eyes, wetting the work clothes, forming a puddle on the floor. The sweat that had accumulated slowly evaporated in the heat of the forge, creating faint steam from the ceiling.
Sweating is fine. However, sweat must not touch the steel. Remembering only that fact, I repeated the process over and over.
Thus, when my throat became parched, my eyes red from heat, and my mind hazy from sweating too much.
Clang!!
"……Done."
Finally, I removed all the slag from the steel rod. The rod now had a beautiful and elegant sword shape.
I had removed impurities from the steel, shaped it, made both sides parallel, and didn't bend to one side. For the first time in several years of attempts, I had reached this point.
Now, the only thing left was quenching. The superior water spirit blessed it, and I looked at the water bucket containing Mingzheng Water said to be made by gathering only clean clouds from the academy above the sky.
And, at that moment, I hesitated.
'Is it really okay?'
If I put this red-hot steel sword blade into that Mingzheng Water, there's no turning back.
Quenching is the stage that looks the simplest but is the most difficult. If the temperature of the water and the steel don't harmonize, the sword will crack during the cooling process. If put in too quickly, the steel will become malleable, and if too slowly, warping will occur. Moreover, all this varies depending on the type, size, weight, etc. of the weapon.
Therefore, there is no clear formula for quenching. It's just that the blacksmith has to trust his own sense.
In that sense, thinking about the effort and cost put into this sword, it was enough for me to hesitate.
'The Ardeum Steel, which is the hardest but has the most impurities, took days just to remove the slag. The wind magic inscribed bellows had used up its usage count, the tools were crude, and the forge was hastily made, so it was extremely unstable.'
Moreover, it would not be an exaggeration to say that I poured all my assets available at the moment to prepare all of that. Thinking that the result of all that effort, sweat, and money could be ruined by just one action, I couldn't help but waver.
But after staring at the sword blade glowing red with a beautiful figure, I hardened my heart.
"Let's go."
What was the reason I did this grueling thing at such a young age? What was the reason I continued the work while receiving countless gazes.
To prove it? To repay? To lift my nose?
No. I just.
"I just want to make the best weapon."
I want to make the most beautiful and powerful weapon in the world, which can be called my life's masterpiece.
With that pure will, I brought the tongs holding the sword blade to the Mingzheng Water.
Chiiieek───
"……!!"
As soon as I saw the sword blade touching the Mingzheng Water and cooling down, I forcibly stopped the shaking of my hands. I couldn't shake now. I had to quench carefully and surely, without any small cracks.
Holding my breath, focusing my vision only on the Mingzheng Water and the sword blade, I didn't blink even once at the rising steam.
After the longest and shortest 30 seconds of my life, I slowly pulled out the sword blade.
"……Ah."
Beautiful.
The shoulders that were gracefully indented, the full and elastic forte (lower half of the blade), and the beautiful line that seductively lured the pommel (upper half of the blade) were enough to make saliva gulp down unconsciously.
Masterpiece. Literally a masterpiece. It's more excellent, beautiful, and fantastic than any weapon I've made so far.
"I don't want to be reincarnated for this taste."
I often wondered why protagonists like to reincarnate into this world in web novels. Even in a fantasy world with magic or something else, why like living in a medieval fantasy world without smartphones, internet, air conditioners, or civilization?
But today, I understood. Because this is a fantasy world, and because I was born as a noble, at only 12 years old, I could make a blacksmith and try forging.
It was often called a second life. Although I died in an accident, thanks to being reincarnated in this world, I could live an optimal life to make the best weapons without wasting childhood!
However……There is exactly one problem.
'It's too lewd……?'
Is there any man who wouldn't get excited seeing this bewitching and lewd appearance? I barely overcame the rising pleasure and put the sword blade into the forge heated to a lower temperature for the tempering process.
The steel right after quenching is hard but brittle. In simple terms, it means it's not flexible. In this state, it can break from a large impact, so I had to heat it to a lower temperature to add flexibility to the steel. That's what tempering is.
However, even while tempering and slowly polishing, saliva kept flowing.
'I'm going crazy.'
Just touching the sword blade to sharpen the edge, my body trembled with excitement. Crazy, can a sword be this lewd? Isn't this a crime?
They said a beauty that could topple a country is not to be taken lightly. Then this sword would be enough to topple a country. A beautiful sword that seduces all men and makes them stand up.
While enduring the seductive temptation of the sword somehow, I finished polishing and sharpening, then combined the pre-made handle and the sword. Like it was asking to be touched, I inserted the crossguard into the tang that stretched out, and inserted the grip and pommel that would act as the handle, finishing it.
Finally, with a light hammer blow to fix the pommel……
"……Hoo."
Finally.
At last!
"Hoo, hoo. Hoo hoo ho ha ha ha!!!"
I did it! Damn, I finally did it!
How hard it was to survive in this unfamiliar world and reach the minimum age to do forging work.
Even though my body was just over 12 years old, it was enough. After failing for a long 7 years, I finally did it! I did it!!
"Wow, it's so cool."
The full body with a narrow waist. And the beautiful lines that are beautiful like a tail.
I couldn't hold back anymore as I was about to hold my life's masterpiece in my hands.
Uwoong!
"……?"
Bright light suddenly started to emanate from the sword.
Kung!!!
Something.
After the illusion that something, something like a very large hammer was looking down on this place and striking down as if forging.
The light soon enveloped the entire sword, and began to take on a new form.
And that form was that of a human female.
"First time meeting you, Creator."
"……Eh?"
"I am your sword. And your creation."
As the light faded, a blonde woman without a single thread on her body looked at me with a gentle and kind smile. The woman's blonde hair was long enough to reach her waist, and she had earrings shaped like swords on her ears.
While I was at a loss for words looking at her appearance, the woman who clasped her hands on her chest bowed her head to me with a voice full of emotion.
"Thanks to the Creator, my cold metal has gained life. I now have a soul and will live as a species like the Creator……Creator?"
"Ah, ah."
"Cr, Creator? Why all of a sudden?"
"Aaah!!"
My, my sword!!
Take back my sword!!!