Chapter 119 - 41: [Forging Competition]

Chapter 119: Chapter 41: [Forging Competition]

CLANG! CLANG!

Hammers smashed against red-hot metal, sending orange sparks flying in all directions.

Dozens of blacksmiths and casting technicians gathered in the square in front of the Caster’s Hall. A dedicated furnace and forging tools were set up in front of each competitor. Dozens of hammers swung up and down, striking repeatedly. The clashing of metal, ranging from heavy thuds to crisp chimes, rose and fell like an industrial heavy metal band composed entirely of percussion instruments.

A tall, burly competitor finished shaping his piece. After confirming the blade was perfectly straight, he wiped his sweat, raised the red-hot iron blank, and pushed aside the large oil barrel meant for quenching. Using thick, charred leather gloves and iron tongs, he carefully turned the blade horizontally, aligning it over a wooden cold-water trough.

"What is David doing?" the audience cried out. They watched as he focused entirely on controlling the immersion, dipping only the blade’s edge into the water. Once the edge quenching was complete, he plunged the entire blade into the oil barrel.

"Differential quenching. This gives the edge and the spine different levels of hardness and toughness. The edge becomes much sharper, but it doesn’t sacrifice the overall structural integrity of the blade just for sharpness," explained a short-bearded brown dwarf clinging to a nearby crate.

"That is, provided the water quench is successful." Another human casting technician standing next to the crates in the crowd steadied the towering stack and shook his head. "There are too many impurities, and the forging time was too short. The carbon wasn’t beaten out cleanly. It’s not suitable for a water quench."

Competitor David lifted the cooled blade blank from the oil barrel. He frowned as he inspected it for a long while, and slowly shook his head. A hairline crack had formed along the edge.

Although the audience was too far away to see the details, David’s expression made it clear that things had not gone well.

"He rushed it," the dwarf caster perched on the stack of crates said with a chuckle. "Look at Albert. He’s the third person in the past twenty years of the Caster’s Festival to try demonization quenching during the competition. I bet he’s going to fail."

"Oh, then I bet he succeeds. Not that I have that much faith in Albert, I just want to bet against you," the human caster beside the crates grinned. "If he succeeds, you’re buying the drinks tonight. If not, they’re on me."

"You’re on!" The dwarf caster shifted his numb legs on top of the crate pile.

Competitor Albert had just hammered his sword into its basic shape. Before refining it further, he set down his heavy hammer and opened a small wooden box at his feet. Amidst the gasps of the surrounding crowd, he grabbed a large handful of expensive demonization materials and tossed them straight into the furnace.

The fire inside the furnace instantly flared up, emitting a roaring WHOOSH as the surrounding air was sucked into the chamber. The orange flames immediately transformed into pale Demon Fire. The mouth of the furnace looked like the gaping maw of a fire-breathing monster, spewing pale flames.

Albert grabbed his iron tongs, clamped onto the sword hilt, and shoved the entire blade straight into the roaring, pale furnace.

The pale flames were fleeting. Once the demonization materials burned out, the fire returned to a soft orange, and the spewing tongues of flame slowly retracted back into the furnace. He lifted the scalding iron blank from the forge; the blade now bore faint, frantic blue patterns that shimmered slightly in the shadows beneath the sunlight.

"Beautiful. It actually worked." Relying on his elevated position on the crates, the dwarf caster reached over and punched the human caster on the shoulder. "The drinks are on me tonight. Drink to your heart’s content."

The human caster laughed heartily.

Time was up. The priests on the high platform of the Holy Hall raised their hands and struck an anvil, signaling the end of the competition. The competitors placed their finished works on their anvils and stood quietly before them, waiting for the judges to come down to inspect and evaluate them. The priests, dressed in deep crimson robes, wove through the anvils, conversing with each other from time to time as they passed their judgments.

"Did I miss anything exciting?" Samael pushed through the crowd, his armor going CLANG CLANG as he trotted quickly back into the audience surrounding the forging competition. He lowered his voice to ask Yaki Yevir, who was standing among the spectators.

The small wooden puppet hanging from his neck dangled and swung, CLACKING gently against his breastplate.

"Demon quenching. Albert’s demonization quenching on his blade was a success," Yaki answered enthusiastically. "David chose water to quench the edge and oil for the spine, but his differential quenching failed. Jacqueline’s work deformed during tempering; the curved blade will probably cost her a lot of points."

"Oh... Seems I missed some of the interesting parts." Relying on the towering height of his Nether Copper Armor, Samael craned his neck over the crowd, trying to get a clear look at the judges’ scoring in the distance. "When will the results be announced?"

"No need to rush. After the competition, they’ll read out the evaluation and score for every single piece." Yaki turned his head, looking at Samael with his squinted eyes. "By the way, what were you doing just now?"

"I took a stroll around the Caster’s Hall to see if there were any other entrances," Samael replied in a low voice. "It doesn’t look like there are. There’s only one main door in the front that leads inside."

"You want to enter the Caster’s Hall? For what?" Old Duke, the leader of the Exile Tribe, poked his head over from the side.

The old geezer gripped an onion-and-meat-stuffed baked flatbread he had bought from a street vendor. Wrapped in sizzling, greasy parchment paper, he was chewing on it with great relish.

Baked flatbread was one of the Ederic Empire’s specialty foods. A minced meat filling, made from a blend of salted and fresh meat, was mixed with chopped onions and solid chunks of fat. When baked on an iron tray in a large iron forge, the fat chunks would melt, turning the simple baking process into a half-fried, half-baked delight. Every bite oozed with sizzling onion oil.