Chapter 43

Translator: True Detective

Chapter 43. Rapier (3)

Although my body was exhausted to the limit, my mind was clearer than ever.

Throwing in all the materials I had, I went through a lot of trial and error.

Phew...

Catching my breath and renewing my resolve, I placed the 'Pure Orichalcum' emitting a brilliant light on the workbench.

The materials placed before my eyes were all emitting extraordinary energy.

The Guide announced the start of the work.

Swallowing dry saliva, I put the [Pure Orichalcum] deep into the furnace.

The melting point was much higher than normal Orichalcum.

Inside the furnace, the purple ore hummed as if screaming, then soon emitted a blinding white light.

I took out the ore with tongs and placed it on the anvil.

As soon as it touched the air, the color of the ore's surface changed at a terrifying speed.

To spread this giant ore into the shape of a thin and sharp rapier, it had to be hammered at least thousands of times.

Which means, I had to put it in and take it out thousands of times.

But without hesitation, I gripped the [Orichalcum Blacksmith's Hammer] properly.

In my vision, numerous dots floated over the ore.

The Guide was kindly telling me where and how hard to strike.

I lifted the hammer.

Just as I was about to strike the point marked in red, I paused.

I remembered when I handled the practice Orichalcum.

I struck the points exactly as the guideline dictated.

But the result was disastrous.

—Tick.

With a cheerful popping sound, the sword blades split in half.

I glared at the dots floating dizzily before my eyes.

From a certain point, I had only followed these dots blindly.

And ultimately, it led to the result of the sword breaking.

This won't do.

Ultimately, the one making it is me; the Guide shouldn't be dragging me.

I had to use the Guide.

Having seen it hundreds of times, my body, not my head, remembers.

I closed my eyes and said.

"Guide, please continue the explanation assistance, but turn off the mineral guidelines."

It was a bold choice, but I decided to trust my experience of making things without the Guide's help and my sensation honed by tens of thousands of hammer strikes.

At my words, the Guide remained silent for a moment.

It was a worried question.

But my eyes didn't waver.

Raising the corners of my mouth, I answered.

"Yes, it's fine."

The dots filling my vision disappeared.

Now it was just me and the red-hot Orichalcum.

I raised the hammer high above my head.

—Clang!

Only the sound of the mineral and hammer clashing was heard in the workshop.

Only that clear sound broke the silence.

When the hammer struck the mineral once, red flames and light-purple smoke burst up together.

It was dazzlingly glamorous, but I had no leisure to admire it.

As soon as that short momentary strike ended, I carefully lifted the mineral with tongs and put it back into the furnace.

It was a motion already repeated hundreds, no, thousands of times.

It was a temperature where the flowing sweat seemed to evaporate immediately before even forming on the tip of my chin.

But I had no time to even feel the heat.

My gaze, without an inch of distraction, closely watched the purple mineral heating up in the hot furnace.

If I miss that minute moment when the color changes, everything goes to waste.

'Now.'

The moment the color changed to white, I took it out again and struck down.

—Clang!

Put it back in.

Wait.

Take it out.

Strike.

In the infinitely repeating work, the sense of time had long disappeared.

I was making it relying solely on instinct and sensation.

I put all my soul into a single strike.

How much time passed like that.

The crude lump of ore was slowly taking the shape of a sleek and sharp rapier blade.

It was the moment I finished the last hammer strike and was about to catch my breath.

The Guide, who had kept silent, opened its mouth.

"Huh...?"

I stopped the hand holding the hammer with a blank expression.

"This is all done?"

At the Guide's words, only then did the blade placed on the workbench enter my eyes.

A light-purple blade extending smoothly without superfluity.

It looked rather more natural and sharper than when I mechanically struck following the guidelines.

Because I was concentrating so hard on making it, I didn't even know it was finished.

My heart swelled with the sense of achievement that I did it myself, but it wasn't over yet.

"Huh? Wouldn't it break then?"

I think the explanation earlier said it breaks if forged at low temperatures.

Hearing the Guide's words, I took out the [Remnant of Orichalcum Golem] from the inventory without delay.

The description says it's fibrous, but outwardly it looked closer to ore.

Grinding it hard, a powder shining brilliantly like gem powder was completed.

I brought the cooled blade back to the entrance of the furnace.

This time, not high temperature, but 200 degrees.

Minute temperature control was the key.

When the blade began to take on a subtle red light, I quickly took it out and placed it on the workbench.

And I sprinkled the prepared powder softly over the blade.

—Sizzzzzzle.

As soon as the powder touched the blade, it permeated like melting snow.

It was the process of coating a film with flexible elasticity over the surface of the Orichalcum blade that was only hard.

I lifted the hammer before the powder completely permeated.

I tapped lightly, spreading it so the powder would dig deep inside the blade.

The elasticity of the Golem remnant was being added to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the hardness of Orichalcum.

While waiting for the blade to cool sufficiently, without time to catch my breath, I picked up the next material.

[Ebony Wood]

It was a black piece of wood that looked like pitch-black darkness hardened as is.

Placing it on the workbench, a heavy weight was transmitted.

"I have to carve this?"

I closed my eyes and thought, and the sensations I measured while holding Cassia's arm last time entered my head.

A small but firm hand.

The position of the calluses embedded inside the palm from swinging a sword for a long time.

The length of the fingers and the thickness of the knuckles.

It was drawn clearly in my head like a 3D blueprint.

"Phew..."

I took a deep breath and applied the carving knife blade to the Ebony Wood.

A resistance that made my wrist tingle was felt.

But I didn't stop and pushed with force.

—Scrape.

Black sawdust fell to the floor like snowflakes.

I slowly carved down the crude piece of wood.

I had to create ergonomic curves so that when she gripped the sword, it would fill her grasp without gaps.

The place where the thumb touches was slightly hollowed out to increase grip, and the part where the index and middle fingers wrap around was designed with a gentle curve to make it easy to apply force.

"Just a little more... delicately."

I held my breath and carved the surface in 0.1mm increments.

Beads of sweat formed on my eyelashes, blocking my vision, but I didn't even blink.

As the rough outer surface was carved away, the unique inner flesh of Ebony Wood was revealed.

Surprisingly, the inner flesh was a darker black than the outside, but when light hit it, it had a silver luster.

—Scrape scrape.

When the shape was somewhat formed, this time I went into the task of refining the surface.

Instead of rough sandpaper, I rubbed it with leather coated with very fine whetstone powder.

The more I rubbed, the more the surface of the Ebony Wood changed.

The surface that looked cold and hard like metal changed to a smooth and soft touch like silk.

But it wasn't slippery despite that.

"This is it."

I gripped the finished handle.

The snug feeling the moment it touched my hand was exquisite.

I took out an awl heated in the furnace.

I aligned the red-hot tip of the awl to the exact center of the handle.

—Sizzzzzzle!

Along with a burning smell, the awl dug deep into the Ebony Wood.

Smoke rose, and a hole was drilled.

I quickly pulled out the awl and checked the inside of the hole.

It was drilled cleanly without splitting.

With this, a perfect handle just for Cassia was born.

The last thing remaining was the production of the handle guard, called the flower of the rapier.

I picked up the [Crystal Carapace of Giant Spider] I had placed on one side of the workbench.

The touch on my hand was cold as ice.

Shining it under the light, a rainbow-colored radiance shimmered inside the transparent carapace.

It was beautiful.

But simultaneously, it was a material harder and trickier to handle than any metal.

"Vibration, huh...."

I lifted the [Orichalcum Blacksmith's Hammer].

Designing the striking face narrowly when making this hammer was a godsend.

I started tapping the exact center of the carapace with the tip of the hammer.

It wasn't striking down with force, but a task of continuously giving vibrations with a constant rhythm and speed.

The carapace, which showed no change at first, slowly began to react after hundreds of minute strikes.

The surface that was stiffly hardened shimmered like a wave.

The Guide shouted.

I tapped the edges with the hammer to form a round cup shape.

The hard carapace bent like taffy, becoming a dome shape wrapping the hand.

But this alone wasn't enough.

A spiral structure was needed to induce the opponent's blade to slide along the cup and bounce outwards.

I had to engrave the pattern while the carapace was still vibrating minutely from the aftermath of the vibrations.

I held my breath and applied the tip of the carving knife to the transparent surface.

A sound like scratching glass occurred.

I started engraving complex geometric patterns on the surface of the dome-shaped guard.

I designed it so that a grid pattern embodying a spider web densely supported each other, yet overall looked like swirling petals.

I boldly cut out unnecessary parts.

It looked like it had holes poked all over, but in fact, it was a design reducing weight while maintaining structural rigidity.

It was concentration that felt like my eyes would pop out.

Because it was a transparent material, the carved depth wasn't clearly visible, so I had to rely solely on the sensation in my fingertips.

Every time the carving knife passed, transparent powder sparkled and scattered.

Finally, I rubbed the surface with polish to clean it.

The minute scratches created during the processing disappeared, revealing a surface as smooth as glass art.

I lifted the finished guard and shone it under the light.

A generously sized cup guard covering the entire ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand.

But thanks to the transparent material, it didn't look stuffy.

The spider web and petal patterns engraved on the surface sparkled glamorously every time they caught the light.

"Perfect."

Now only the final assembly of combining these into one remained.

On the workbench, the three parts were laid out side by side.

The Orichalcum blade emitting a cold light-purple radiance.

The black and heavy Ebony Wood handle.

And the crystal guard shining transparently between them.

Now it was time to combine these into one.

I calmed my trembling hands and picked up the blade.

The tang part at the end of the blade that would go into the handle still had heat remaining.

I held my breath and stood the blade up.

And aligned the tip of the tang to the hole of the transparent crystal guard.

I pushed it in very slowly and carefully.

It went in smoothly as if pulled by a magnet.

Through the transparent guard, the light-purple blade could be seen.

At the point where the curve of the guard and the straight line of the blade met, not a single gap could be found.

Next was the Ebony Wood handle.

I slightly heated the tang in the fire.

This was to make the wooden handle and metal tang adhere perfectly.

With a sizzling sound, the tang dug into the hole of the Ebony Wood.

Not a burning smell, but a fragrant woody scent spread out.

I held the hammer and tapped the end of the handle.

The deeper the handle went in, the more I felt the sword's center of gravity shifting towards the hand.

Finally, when the sound of the guard and handle perfectly interlocking occurred.

And that moment.

—Vwoooom!

The air in the workshop settled heavily.

The entire sword began to resonate, making a low vibration sound.

The purple mana starting from the Orichalcum of the blade passed through the transparent guard and flowed along the Ebony Wood handle.

And it flowed back, wrapping the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠entire sword.

As if a blocked blood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vessel had opened and blood was circulating, the three materials fused perfectly into one.

A dazzling purple flash filled the workshop.

—Ding!

The light subsided, and before my eyes floated an unbelievably beautiful sword.

I gripped the sword as if possessed.

The grip feeling caught in my hand was perfectly chilling.

But perhaps because it was a weapon exclusive to Cassia, it felt strangely awkward.

"Wow... Crazy...."

My mouth wouldn't close.

I swung the sword in the empty air.

Not even a whoosh sound occurred.

It felt like the sound was following belatedly because it was so fast.

The burden transmitted to the wrist was close to zero.

"With this much... she'll be satisfied, right?"

She might faint beyond being satisfied.

Grinning, I carefully put the finished Rapier into the inventory.

My whole body was drenched in sweat and exhausted, but pleasure dominated my whole body rather than fatigue.

I wanted to show it to her quickly.

The image of her weaving through the battlefield holding this sword was vivid in my eyes.

Dragging my staggering legs, I opened the workshop door.