The next day, Richard went to the forge which was located nearly at the sa place as the base floor.
For so reason he was being ignored by other prisoners...maybe because they got the word that soone from the administration ca to et him? Might be possible.
But, well, he didn't build any connection on this floor, so he didn't particularly mind their behaviour.
"Woah..." Entering the chamber, Richard was surprised to see the difference between the forge on this floor compared to the one back on the base floor.
The workshop where Richard has to remould swords is a small, enclosed space, filled with the warmth of burning coal. The forge sits at the centre, its flas glowing bright, casting light around the room. In front of the forge is a sturdy anvil, marked with years of use.
Tools like hamrs, tongs, and chisels hang neatly on the walls, ready to be used. Nearby, a large grinding wheel waits to sharpen the swords once they're shaped. Buckets of water sit close by for cooling the hot tal. The room is simple but equipped with everything Richard needs for his task.
There were more tools for the smithy and enough space for Richard to lie down from ti to ti to relax. There was fresh drinking water available as well, along with a small cabin if Richard wanted to rest for a few minutes.
'This surely is not the original design of the forge...' He could tell, that the administration was trying to provide him with facilities so that Richard could spend as much ti as he could in this place.
"I wish they would add a lunch counter as well..." Heaving a sigh, he rolled his sleeve and drank a potion which he bought from tokens.
Yes, this floor has a potion shop.
Wearing an apron he picked a sword which was bent in a 'L'. It was fairly easy to remould swords which are awkwardly bent.
Going through the sa process which he recently learned, he first raised the temperature of the tal by several folds and brought it upon the anvil. He never felt the need for safety goggles, so he went on with hamring the sword back in shape.
His eyes carefully calculated the heat required at regular intervals to keep the blade hot enough to adapt to changes but not lose its form.
*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*
Hamr hitting the blade which was now returning to its original shape, sounded like a harmonious lody to his ears. He loves the way his craftsmanship allowed a wasted piece of tal to regain its formal glory.
Once he was satisfied with the shape and length he dipped the whole weapon inside water while holding its handle.
Flas no longer burn him as much and truth be told, this whole process was quite comforting.
Once the blade cooled down, Richard brought it to sharpen.
The grinding wheel was large and worn from years of use, turned by a wooden crank. Richard settled the sword carefully, angling the blade just right. With a firm press of his foot, he began to turn the crank, the stone wheel coming to life with a steady, low hum.
Sparks flew as the edge of the sword t the spinning stone, casting flickers of light into the workshop. Richard's hands moved with practised precision, guiding the blade along the wheel's coarse surface. The rough grind smoothed away any remaining imperfections, slowly honing the sword into a sharp, deadly edge.
It took him exactly eight minutes and a usable sword was in his hold.
Richard inspected the sword he just forged, trying to discern what actually made them so interested in him.
Holding the sword with both hands, Richard tried to swing it—only to halt when a familiar person entered the forge,
"I would not recomnd you doing that," It was Blaze once again, who mysteriously appeared before Richard.
"Why do you say so? Not like I will damage your equipnt or anything..." He nonchalantly said. Richard has trained with swords in the past so he can fairly manage it.
However, Blaze had a different opinion, as he slowly extended his hand toward the sword and said, "Generally, nothing much would happen with a simple swing. However, "As he said, suddenly the backside of the forge was parted and a massive hall ca into view.
Richard watched in awe at how precisely ti-space magic was manipulated to change the structure of the Endless Hold.
Blaze stepped toward and held the sword with both hands, as he said, "But if you know the trick,"
Without warning, Blaze swung the sword with a swift, powerful motion. The air around the blade seed to ripple as it sliced downward. In an instant, a fiery burst of energy erupted from the blade, creating a massive vertical slash in the air. Molten lava spewed forth from the crack, flowing like a river of fire.
The ground shook as the lava hit the concrete surface, lting it on contact. Cracks ford and spread, the molten liquid tearing through the solid ground with ease. The once firm floor crumbled, dissolving into fiery rubble as the heat continued to rise, smoke billowing upward.
With a smirk, Blaze finished, "...you can do much damage to whatever is in front of you."
Richard looked at the scene with his mouth parted agape.
He, not even in his wildest dreams, could have thought that he would end up making such a monstrous thing with his re one-week experience.
Blaze stepped forward and rested the tip of the blade on the ground.
Looking at Richard he asked, "Do you know about weapon infusion or enchantnt?"
Richard slowly nodded, "Yeah...I had those back in the Duchy." The tal batons, to be precise.
"Yes, you must have one. Given the rarity of those tools I can expect only the Duchess to get her hands on one."
Taking a long breath, Blaze said, "This process involves imbuing a weapon with mystical properties, enhancing its abilities beyond the limits of re steel or wood. You can add magic to a needle and make it more deadly than a scythe."
"I am aware, but why are you telling that?" Richard asked.
"Because you, my friend, just enchanted not only this but many other swords without even realizing."
Richard raised his brows. It's not like he wasn't expecting that response, but still, it was baffling to know that he learned magic imbuing without any prior training or explanation on how it's done.
Blaze added, "Only a few selected dwarves from ancient tis were able to add magical elents to their weapons, and they seldom sold them to anyone. That's why there are so few enchanted weapons in existence as of now."
"True...and those which are available are expensive enough to make one spend all their life worth of fortune."
Blaze nodded, as he said, "You have a gift for enchantnt, Richard. And that's what makes you so special. Continue to build more weapons, and don't limit yourself due to any reason."
Gesturing toward the forge, he said, "This is your playground so let loose and show what you have-"
"Where is the prisoner?"
Blaze blinked in confusion and awkwardness, being interrupted like this.
He allowed his hand to return to his side before inviting Richard, "Co with ,"
Outside the chamber, a single prisoner could be seen currently kneeling on the floor with his face covered with a black fabric.
Richard's left hand was enveloped in flas, as wordlessly he stepped forward and stabbed the man in the chest, making his death as quick as possible.
There was no fighting back, and the strangest part was that the other prisoners, who were having lunch just a few ters away, seed like they didn't even notice their comrade getting killed just now.
Richard glanced at the death counter, and fortunately, it went up by one.
Richard heaved a sigh and got back up. Fortunately, there was no trickery in this.
Although this thod was like a cheat shortcut, if he could reduce the ti of returning back ho through this, then Richard was not going to ask for anything else.
"Anything would you like to ask or complain about before I leave?" Blaze asked, to which Richard said,
"If possible arrange a lunch-"
"Ah, it's already there." Blaze pointed inside the chamber.
Richard turned around, and indeed, there was a familiar window for food ordering that could be seen.
"Than-" Just the mont he turned around to thank the man, he found that there was no one standing there.
Richard shrugged and returned to the forge.
Washing his face with freshwater he turned towards the bunch of swords piled up in a corner as he muttered,
"Let my imagination go wild huh..."
If he can really enchant his weapon then what if he makes sothing from the scratch?
But there was sothing that kept him bothered since yesterday.
For what do they want these many deadly weapons? What are they planning?
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A/N:- We will see a ti skip in next chapter. Thanks for reading.
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