The Split Hammer

Jincheol gave a light shrug, pushed open the door of the practice room, and stepped inside.

"Whoa..."

Dohyeon followed him in and let out a quiet breath of awe. The space was easily the size of two lecture halls put together. Along both walls, forges and anvils stood in neat rows, each one set with a trainee's nameplate.

They even gave us our own stations.

Dohyeon ran a hand over the anvil that bore his name, then looked around the room. There were forges enough, but the ceiling was high and the ventilation well made, and it wasn't as stifling as he'd expected. The hammers and the practice iron had been gathered together in the center.

He walked out into the middle of the room, and his eyes went to the neatly stacked ingots. He lifted the nearest one. You'd have been hard-pressed to find a single impurity on its surface.

This is practice stock?

Even Cheongeun Workshop hadn't handed new hires material like this to practice on. It wasn't high-grade mana-metal, of course, but the purity ran higher than ordinary iron, and the finish was far cleaner.

"Pretty decent, right?" Jincheol grinned beside him.

"Didn't know your family took the education business this seriously."

"Father hates anything that might scratch the Geumha Workshop name."

"Must've cost a fortune."

"So hammer hard, hyung. It's all tax money anyway."

Thud. Thud.

While the trainees were still looking the practice room over, an old man in a modified hanbok stepped inside. The murmuring died at once.

An A-Rank master craftsman. Former master of Baekcheol Workshop. Chief instructor of this training.

Master Choi Gwangcheol.

He ran his eyes once over the trainees, then spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...?"

"If you've come to practice, you put your work clothes on first. Here to sightsee, are you?"

Every eye turned at once to the work clothes piled in the center of the room.

"Ah!"

"Sorry!"

The trainees scrambled into motion, and Master Choi clicked his tongue.

"If you mean to leave a finger behind from the first day, I won't be the one to stop you."

"..."

Dohyeon was just as quick to pull on the work clothes and strap into his protective gear. Only once everyone was ready did Master Choi point to the crate stacked with hammers.

"You see the ingots and the hammers in front of you?"

In the center of the practice room the ingots lay set out in order, and with them dozens of forging hammers, each a little different in size and shape.

"Choose one each."

The trainees watched one another, then crowded in toward the hammers. The first to disappear, of course, were the ones with clean faces and handles still close to new. Dohyeon was about to pick one himself when he glanced sideways at Jincheol, already lifting them.

Jincheol didn't start with how they looked. He hefted a hammer, rolled it lightly in his hand, then took the end of the handle and checked the balance first. He tried several that way, and then chose one without hesitation.

So that's how you check.

He wasn't a B-Rank craftsman for nothing.

Dohyeon was about to lift the hammer in front of him the same way when a familiar dissonance brushed through his whole body.

...Huh?

It was the feeling of his unique skill, something he hadn't sensed in a long time.

Keen Eye was a peculiar skill, one even Dohyeon didn't fully understand. He had no way of knowing what set it off, or what standard decided how strong that dissonance became, and so it had turned into a sore spot—a skill he treated as if he didn't have it at all. Right now, though, the dissonance was stronger than it had ever been.

It's reacting to that hammer?

Trusting Keen Eye, he looked the hammers over from one end to the other, and the dissonance surged from a single one set off in a corner. It was far more worn than the rest. The handle was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠black with grime, and the head was covered in dents and scratches, the marks of long years of use. Call it an antique, if you were being kind. Call it a tool one step from the scrap heap, if you weren't.

What was the person in charge thinking, putting this out?

Is there something to it?

For the first time in a long while, Dohyeon appraised it.

"There's nothing?"

Only half believing the Keen Eye that had stirred after so long, he picked the hammer up. It met his hand with a soft weight. The feel of it closing into his grip was not bad. Better than he'd expected.

No.

It was strangely good. The handle had been worn down and worn down again until it settled into his palm as if it had been made for it. And Keen Eye reacted once more.

Dohyeon's gaze locked onto the head. The marks he'd taken for random gouges began, one by one, to look different, as if someone had recorded a motion in them.

This is...

"A flower bloom on that hammer, did it?"

"...!"

At the sudden voice, Dohyeon looked up. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Master Choi Gwangcheol was standing right in front of him.

"The others are already at their stations. Did you come alone to admire hammers?"

"I'm sorry."

"A good hammer doesn't come find you just because you stand there looking."

Master Choi flicked a glance at the old hammer in Dohyeon's hand.

"If you've chosen, get back to your place."

"Yes."

Dohyeon hurried back in front of his assigned anvil.

"I'll show you how it's done."

Master Choi set an ingot into an empty forge.

"I've no mind to teach you how to read the heat today. When I tell you to draw it, draw it and set it on the anvil."

A moment later he drew the ingot out with tongs, red-hot, and laid it on the anvil.

"Making a shape is not the aim today. First you'll learn, in the body, where the hammer falls."

He made sure every trainee's eyes were on him, then took up the hammer.

"Today you'll strike this one piece of iron, and keep on striking it."

Disappointment flickered across a few faces.

"But this is an equipment-crafting class..."

Someone muttered it under their breath, and Master Choi's eyebrow twitched once.

"Would it be permitted to use mana?"

"A man who hasn't learned to walk, asking first how to run."

At the chill in his voice, the trainee who had asked scratched his head.

"Grip the hammer. Lift it. Bring it down on the same spot. That is all you will do today."

The trainees' expressions turned odd.

"All day?"

"You dislike it?"

"No, sir."

Master Choi answered even as he raised the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hammer.

"Watch well."

He brought it down lightly. Clang—! A clear, solid ring of steel filled the practice room, and Dohyeon's eyes widened a fraction.

...What?

It hadn't been a hard strike, and the hammer was no fine tool either, just old issued gear. Yet the sound alone was loud enough to set the wide room ringing. Master Choi raised the hammer again. Clang—! The second mark landed exactly atop the first. Clang—! So did the third. Clang—! And the fourth. However many times he brought it down, the place the hammer fell never changed.

"No need to hit it hard."

Master Choi set the hammer down.

"Think of nothing but striking the same spot."

"If the iron cools, don't force the blow. Put it back in the forge. Today I'm looking at your form, not your speed."

He flicked his eyes as if to say begin, and the trainees looked at one another, tense. Among those still frozen by the blunt order to simply start hammering, Jincheol was the first to set an ingot into the forge. Like chicks after the hen, the others began to do the same.

"Set the ingot in deeper."

"Don't draw it yet. You draw it when I tell you to."

Dohyeon put his ingot in with the rest and stared quietly into the forge.

Pretty.

Bright red, the heat rolling and shimmering over it—there was a real pleasure in just watching.

"Draw it now."

"Yes, sir."

At Master Choi's word, Dohyeon carefully set the ingot on the anvil. Taking his cue from Jincheol, who had just started hammering, he raised his own.

Clang! A dull sound, and the center of the ingot caved in. Clang! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The second strike glanced a little to the right. For a first try it could be called decent, but the force behind this blow was different from the first—different enough that even Dohyeon could tell.

Harder than I thought.

Enchanting was work for the hands, too. Etching fine circuits was more delicate than hammering, and Dohyeon had made his living at that sort of enchanting for five years; he had confidence in his hands. He'd thought the hammer would come to him just as quickly. But putting real strength behind it while still trying to guide it fine—that simply would not settle into his grip.

Clang! The third strike landed even farther off.

"Ha."

A hollow laugh slipped out of him. As he reset his stance to start again, his eyes drifted of their own accord to the old hammer in his hand. The marks of countless blows. The wear of the hands that had held it. The paths it had fallen along, toward iron.

Keen Eye, which had gone still, stirred again.

Wait.

The first time, the dissonance had come only from the head. This time it came from the whole hammer.

Things no one had ever taught him came into his head, one after another.

Like this?

Dohyeon eased the strength in his fingers and lifted his arm. Then he simply let the hammer fall along the path where it would drop most naturally.

Clang! His eyes went wide. This strike sat far closer to the first than any before it, and the force was nearly the same. Got it!

Clang!Got it.

Clang!Take a little force off, and it'll be closer to perfect.

Clang—!No. I used my wrist at the end.

Clang!My shoulder moved.

Clang!Good. Locked it.

It wasn't perfect. Even knowing the method, failure still came for him. And yet, strangely, every time he failed he could see why. His body simply couldn't keep up. He felt he knew what the problem was.

How long had it been? His palms were already stinging. Even so, he had no thought of setting the hammer down.

This is fun.

It was like the first time he'd learned to enchant. The feeling of one messy line drawing, little by little, closer to the shape he wanted. The pleasure of seeing what he hadn't been able to see.

That was when it happened.

Ding—

A notification chime he'd long since stopped expecting sounded by his ear. Blue text rose before his eyes.

"...?"

New lines followed.

"...Crazy."

It slipped out small, before he knew it.

"What's crazy?"

"...!"

Master Choi had come up beside him at some point, and was looking straight at him.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing, he says."

Master Choi's gaze went to the hammer in Dohyeon's hand.

"I won't tell you to pay for it, even if it breaks."

"Sorry?"

Not understanding at first, Dohyeon followed that gaze down to his own hand.

"...!"

The head of the hammer—old, but whole a moment ago—had split wide open.

"A shard may have flown. Take the glove off first."

When Dohyeon pulled the glove off, he felt the weight of Master Choi's gaze. Fortunately, there was no wound.

"Wash your hands and fetch a new hammer."

"Yes..."

Was this what it felt like to be possessed? Without another word, Dohyeon started for the washroom.