Rise of the Living Forge - Chapter 60 (Patreon)

“Tip of the sword, toward the left,” Arwin ordered.

The hammer slammed home with a loud clang, and another shimmer faded from the sword as it continued to come together. Arwin could have finished it a good bit ago if he’d been working on his own, but this wasn’t his weapon.

If anything, he was surprised his abilities were still working when he wasn’t even the one technically forging the blade. He certainly wasn’t going to complain, though. With Arwin’s direction, Zeke continued to bring the sword closer to completion.

Every strike made it just a little more whole, and the telltale tingle of the Mesh was already shimmering within the blade. After a few more trips through the hearth and some more work by Zeke, the last of the shimmers faded.

“Perfect,” Arwin said. “Do you have wood for the–”

Before he could even finish speaking, Zeke hurried over to the pile of organized supplies and brought back two pieces of a handle that had already been carved into shape. “Made the handle before I started.”

“Nice,” Arwin said. He nodded to the tang of the blade. “Go on, then. Get it on there. You have anything to fix it in place?”

“Some nails.” Zeke slid the pieces of wood around the tang, then pulled several small nails out of his pocket. That wasn’t the best spot that Arwin could think up to keep loose nails, but he shrugged.

“That works,” Arwin said. “Get to it.”

Zeke held one of the nails above the wood and started to tap away at it with the hammer. Arwin helped by holding the handle in place, and Zeke soon had the nail driven all the way through.

They repeated the process for several more nails, and Arwin then broke off the parts of the nails that jutted out the other end of the handle. Zeke procured a strip of leather before Arwin could declare the sword done and wrapped it around the handle in a practiced pattern.

“Done,” Zeke said, stepping back as Arwin hoisted the sword.

The Mesh agreed.

[Sword: Average Quality] has been forged.

[Sword: Average Quality] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy.

Achievement: [Better Together] has been earned.

[Better Together] – Awarded for crafting your first magical weapon while working with another smith. Effects: One skill in your next Skill Selection has been upgraded to Unique. This achievement will be consumed upon choosing your next skill.

Holy shit. I got an achievement for helping him make a sword? Does that mean…

“Nine Underlands,” Zeke exclaimed, staring into the air above Arwin’s shoulder. “I got an Achievement! I don’t even have a class!”

“Not just that,” Arwin said, directing his eyes toward the weapon in his hands. “You made a magical weapon.”

Sword: Average Quality

[Resilient]: This item was forged by two burgeoning smiths, granting it the fortitude of an army. Its blade has been magically sharpened and it will be considerably more difficult to damage or dull by any means.

Zeke nearly choked as he took in the blade. His mouth hung open and disbelief swirled within his eyes.

“What? How? It was just a normal sword!”

“Not anymore,” Arwin said. He set the sword down on the anvil and walked over to his supplies, ruffling through them in search of something he could wrap the sword with. He didn’t have any more spare leather lying around, so he settled for grabbing a piece of canvas.

Wrapping the blade to keep anyone from realizing the weapon was magic, Arwin held it out to Zeke. “Here.”

“What? I can’t take this.”

“Sure you can. You made it.”

“But–”

“It’s yours, Zeke,” Arwin said, pushing it into the boy’s arms. “You made it. I just helped.”

“There’s no way I’d just make a magical weapon on accident,” Zeke said accusingly, but he held onto the sword as Arwin released it. He clutched the weapon to his chest like a baby, unwilling to release it.

“Perhaps not,” Arwin allowed. “But you can keep a secret, can’t you?”

Zeke’s eyes hardened with determination, and he gave Arwin a sharp nod. “I won’t tell a soul. I’ll take this to my grave, I swear. I’ve never had a magical item before.”

“You didn’t just get this,” Arwin reminded Zeke. “You made it. And I’d prefer you keep the sword until you don’t need it anymore and then hand it off to someone else, not get yourself killed, eh?”

“I’ll do my best,” Zeke said with a laugh. He swallowed, his grip tightening on the hilt of the sword and lifting it into the air. “A magic item. I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a sword,” Arwin reminded him. “Be careful with it. You don’t want to–”

Zeke gave the sword a test swing. The blade flew from his hands and Arwin ducked as it spun across the smithy, striking a pot of grout and shattering it with a crash. Zeke yanked his hands back and froze in place.

Arwin’s eye twitched, but he didn’t let his annoyance slip out. Grout wasn’t that expensive. He just shook his head and walked over to the sword, picking it up and wiping the grout off on a bag.

“I – sorry,” Zeke stammered. “I didn’t–”

Arwin spun the sword around and held it out handle-first to Zeke. “Don’t swing this around until you can actually use it.”

Zeke swallowed heavily. “Sorry.”

“Just clean up the mess,” Arwin said, nodding to the grout. Then you can go show Lillia the sword. She might even show you a trick or two with it – but please don’t swing the damn thing until someone’s supervising you.”

Zeke hurried to comply, not even risking so much as a word. Once he’d cleaned the spilled grout up, he stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot and waiting for Arwin to say something.

“Go on. Git,” Arwin said, making a shooing motion. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t, so wipe that look off your face. You can trust anyone in the guild. You’re part of it too, so long as you want to be. Lillia’s got a hot meal waiting for you in the tavern.”

Zeke’s face lit up and he nodded. “I will. Thank you, Ifrit! I’ll never forget this, I swear.”

He hurried out the door, closing it behind him. Arwin expected to hear him sprint away but was instead rewarded with the sound of Zeke picking the lock shut behind him. Grinning, Arwin shook his head as he heard Zeke’s hurried footsteps fading in the direction of the tavern.

That puts me at two Achievements that upgrade my skills upon my next level advancement within my tier, as well as the improvement to the next helmet I make. Pretty damn solid, if I do say so myself.

Zeke got himself a pretty good enchantment on that sword, but it makes me wonder. I feel like some of the stuff I’ve made with similar material and less knowledge turned out better, and I refuse to believe that was entirely due to luck.

Was it because Zeke was the one forging it instead of me, so my abilities didn’t activate as much? Perhaps that’s for the best, as it would have sucked for him to make a magic weapon with a nasty detrimental trait.

Arwin shrugged to himself and made his way back over to the bag he’d left at the door. One way or another, Zeke would be a good addition to the guild. The kid had his head screwed on right, and his lack of a class was hardly an issue.

Maybe we’ll go try to get him one after the Wyrm’s babies are dealt with. I don’t think it would be safe for him in either the dungeon or the forest right now.

That would come when it came. For now, Arwin had another goal in mind. He needed to make more armor, and he had to replace his chest piece. He had more than enough metal to work with between the remaining two pieces of Brightsteel and the three ingots of the new metal the Mesh had given him.

Let’s see. The Brightsteel absorbs shock really well, so it would be a pretty good material to use on the inside of the armor. Maybe I could layer it with the harder metal that the Mesh gave me? I don’t see why the technique wouldn’t work on armor if it works on a sword.

Before I even start with that, I don’t want to just walk around wearing a heavy breastplate with no padding. I should get some leather for the inside and for any parts I need to attach without metal clasps.

Arwin took a moment to do an inventory of his smithy, then headed out for the markets at a brisk pace. It was already late in the evening, and he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to get started on his new project.

Fortunately, Arwin was able to find the leather he needed for ten gold. It ended up taking him considerably more time to walk over to the markets and walk back than it did to actually buy the materials.

Now stocked with everything he needed, Arwin tossed an ingot of Brightsteel into the forge. Once it got hot enough, he took it out and set it on the anvil. Arwin then summoned Verdant Blaze and got to work hammering an ingot of Brightsteel out into a sheet. Time flew by, and it didn’t take long before Arwin set the large sheet to the side, brushing the flakes of metal off it, and got started on one of the ivory bars.

Every strike he delivered with Verdant Blaze seemed to do twice what it should have and pouring [Soul Flame] into the weapon only increased his forging speed even further. The metal seemed to absorb the heat from the hammer strikes, staying hot for longer than it should have.

It didn’t take long for Arwin to have two large sheets of different metals ready and waiting for their next step. He paused for a few moments to consider the design of what he was going for, then used his chisel to separate portions of the sheets away.

Once he’d gotten them to workable sizes, Arwin overlaid the sheets of metal and started hammering once more. Flame coiled at the head of his hammer, flowing around Arwin with every strike.

Sweat poured down his skin as the temperature in the smithy rose, but Arwin was too focused to stop now. His hammer rang out through the night, each strike bringing him closer and closer to his goal.

Even though the materials he was working with weren’t magical, Arwin could still feel them guiding his motions. The metal sensed his desire and matched it, aiding his blows with faint shimmers of energy only visible to him.

As the hours ticked on, the front of a breastplate took form. Arwin still had absolutely no idea if his folding of the two metals had worked, but the faint ripples running through the metal seemed to imply that it had.

Even if it hadn’t, he wouldn’t truly know until his work was done. Once the front of the breastplate was in roughly the right shape, he moved on to the back half of the armor, repeating the process.

I should bring everything to the spot where it’s nearly finished, then wrap it all up at the end. That’ll give me more room to modify things if I need to.

In that manner, Arwin continued his work. The back half of the chest piece took form, followed by both pauldrons. He brought every part of the armor to the point where it was the rough shape that it needed to be so he could envision the project as a whole, but he made no moves to put finishing touches on anything.

But, as Arwin studied all the pieces of what would be his armor, he frowned. The base was there – of that, there was no doubt. But… for all the effort the was putting into it, the armor was strikingly plain.

It was beautiful, but it didn’t have any flair. And, no matter how much Arwin would argue against it, he had a bit of a flair for the dramatic. Strong armor couldn’t just be effective. It had to be cool.

There was definitely something to be said for making a beautiful set of plain armor, but the silvered-ivory mix of metal he had before him was screaming for something more. Arwin’s eye caught on a glint sticking out of his belongings and his frown slipped away.

He still had some of the green crystals from the dungeon left over – not to mention the purple gem he’d taken from the orc shaman. Arwin hurried over, scooping some of the crystals up and snagging the circular gemstone. He brought it back over to the armor and set it down on the anvil before holding up one of the gemstones to the pauldrons.

“What do you think?” Arwin mused to himself. “Good extra layer of protection. Maybe a few per pauldron? I don’t want to be too shiny.”

A dull, warm hum ran down his fingers, nearly making him drop the crystal. Arwin scrambled, catching it an instant before it could hit the side of the anvil. He stared at it for a second, then let a slow grin cross his lips.

It’s my Title, [Stonesinger]. The crystal approves, huh? Well, far be it for me to stand in the way of your destiny. Let’s turn you into some armor.