Yesterday, Kaguya—since we had decided to forget everything that happened before, I had gone back to speaking politely to her—brought the materials from the blueprint that she could procure, along with an advance payment of fifteen million valis. Looking over what she had brought, I could probably knock roughly seventeen million valis off the price.
When she came to collect it, I told her to prepare around ten to fifteen million valis, then immediately turned my back and began preparing for the work. We had agreed to forget it, but there was nothing I could do about the emotional residue that remained. Perhaps she understood that too, because she simply left after saying, "I'm counting on you."
And today, it was time to make the sharpest sword.
First, before getting to work, I bought candles and washi paper—traditional Japanese paper—from a shop run by Far Easterners.
If I remembered correctly, the very first step in making a traditional Japanese blade was originally a ritual to pray for success in swordmaking. In my previous life, I had felt uncomfortable with a Korean following Japanese rites, so I had deliberately skipped that step even when making traditional Japanese swords. But Kaguya wanted the method of her homeland followed as closely as possible, and I had an obligation to reproduce the Far Eastern—Japanese—way as faithfully as I could, provided it did not interfere with the making of the item.
Besides, what meaning did being Korean or Japanese even have by this point? The Far East here was only "almost" identical to Japan; it was a different place. There was no reason at all to reject a Japanese—Far Eastern—ritual out of anti-Japanese sentiment.
Someone might say there was no need to painstakingly reproduce even a process like this, one nobody could see anyway.
That was true. But for me, there was a need. No matter what one did, the fundamentals and the beginning were the most important. If the fundamentals were not properly established, if one got the beginning wrong, then the ending had already been decided before it even began.
An ending of ruin.
I would not follow the Japanese rite exactly as it was. What mattered most was that I began with a ritual.
First, I temporarily closed the shop. I had hung a sign outside saying that I was working, so no one should come in unless it was urgent. Well, even if they did come in, I probably would not notice.
In the forge, at the place where I had hung the seal of the Hephaestus Familia, I set up a candle and wrote on the washi paper:
"[The Sharpest Sword]"
"[Shikizaki Kiki's Forged Blade: Dull]"
I affixed them behind the candle, like a ritual memorial tablet bearing the names and ranks of one's ancestors.
With my heart solemn, I transferred the flames burning in the furnace to a prepared torch. I then brought the flame transferred from the furnace to the candle standing beneath the seal. It quickly caught, kindling its small flame.
Now it was time to offer a prayer for the successful completion of the sword.
"O Goddess Hephaestus. I pray to you here."
"I seek to forge here the sharpest sword, the fastest sword, the sword that has killed the most people."
"I do not know what changes this sword will bring to this world."
"But I ask that you bless this sword, which shall be born anew, beneath your name."
"The fantasy of a sword that can cut through all things, which nobody remembers any longer."
"Bless it in the names of your anvil, your furnace, and your hammer."
"Allow another fantasy to be born here beneath your flames."
Having finished my prayer beneath Hephaestus's seal, I immediately activated my magic.
"This is an illusion."
"This is my imagination."
"This is our ideal."
"A dream that shall endure forever within fantasy."
"It depicts all creation,"
"And contains all phenomena."
"I forge a fantasy born from strange imaginings."
"All things bless that fantasy,"
"And its form is secured as an idol."
"Everything is for but a single end."
Just as before, knowledge began to be hammered into my mind piece by piece. But something was different...?!
"Oh? So my blade is being born again in another world. Well, well. I cannot possibly sit out something this interesting."
This couldn't be...?! Get the hell out of here right now!
"Do not worry. I am merely a kind of lingering thought that exists for the completion of [Shikizaki Kiki's Forged Blade: Dull]. There is no need to alter history here in any case, and I only intend to quietly help you complete the blade."
...I'll trust you. If you are going to help, do your absolute best in every respect.
"Of course. I may not look it, but I am a smith as well. I pride myself on taking swordmaking more seriously than anyone else."
I had not expected Shikizaki Kiki's ghost to latch onto me, but with the original creator helping directly, I should be able to raise the accuracy of the reproduction.
I removed the paper tablet affixed behind the candle, held it to the flame, and burned it. There was no real need to burn it, but this was a ritual of my own. A ritual to steel my resolve: to burn the illusion written on paper and complete it as a real, tangible object.
In the traditional process of crafting a Japanese blade, iron sand must be used as the main material, which means:
1. Smelt iron sand to make tamahagane, or jewel steel.
2. Break the tamahagane into broad pieces again to separate the wrought iron from the steel.
3. Gather the wrought iron and steel separately, wrap them in washi with ash, place them in a kiln, forcibly raise their carbon content, and turn them back into a single mass.
4. If it does not seem to have worked out, heat it again.
Those were the steps one had to go through.
But this was Orario, overflowing with superior materials and technology. There was no need to use something like iron sand for the material; I would use the Lower Floor orichalcum ore Kaguya had brought and a wrought-iron ingot from Kalban Mountain. And as for technology, there was no need to mention it. I was from the modern age, and I had more than enough equipment to reproduce modern techniques.
So I would compress all four processes into one and refine the orichalcum ore.
First, I struck the orichalcum with my hammer as hard as I could, knocking away the impurities clinging to its surface. It was not as though this thing would shatter just because it got hit by my hammer, so I could strike without restraint.
Bang
Bang
Bang
Bang
Bang
Bang
Most of the chunks of stone had been knocked off. But I would not put it straight into the furnace. First, I needed to shape the wrought iron that would serve as the inner core, then hammer out the orichalcum that would cover its exterior.
I put the wrought-iron ingot in and waited for it to heat thoroughly. Being wrought iron, it heated to a workable temperature faster than steel. When the right moment came, I grabbed it with my hand and took it out. By eye, the amount I needed for the core this time was roughly half the ingot. In that case...
I took out a steel chisel, set it against the middle of the thoroughly heated ingot, and struck it with my hammer. One blow drove about halfway through. I struck with all my strength once more, and it split cleanly in two.
I left the half I would use on the anvil and placed the other half on the iron table where I kept my tools.
Before the ingot could cool, I hammered it while filling it with fantasy, shaping it.
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
How long had I hammered? The fist-sized wrought-iron ingot had become a long, narrow strip of iron, a little over seventy-five centimeters long and roughly three centimeters wide. This iron bar would serve as the core, the shingane.
Then it was time to make the hard exterior, the hagane, from orichalcum. Honestly, this was my first time hammering Lower Floor orichalcum. If my skill failed to earn the "recognition" of Lower Floor orichalcum, I would fail. If it recognized me, I would take another step closer to the supreme realm.
I put the orichalcum into the furnace and watched. Even with the magic-stone bellows maintained at maximum output, it still would not heat up. In that case, all I could do was wait until its time came.
Come to think of it, why was Shikizaki Kiki being so quiet?
"Because there is no part for me to interfere with yet. I will begin giving proper advice when you layer the shingane and hagane together, and when you work on the hamon."
Why?
"What, do you want me to interfere with every single step and tell you what to do? You know you will never grow that way. The parts I teach you are only the areas beyond what your current skill and knowledge can easily reach. Right now, I am merely serving as a sort of guide, with the knowledge given to you overlapping with the lingering thoughts of Shikizaki Kiki."
...I understand.
And for a long while, then longer still, I watched the furnace. More precisely, I watched the orichalcum inside it. This extreme heat resistance was incredibly convenient. My eyes were protected from the heat as well, so no matter how long I stared into the furnace, the light only made my eyes uncomfortable; they did not burn.
I blinked once, and the orichalcum vanished from sight amid the flames.
I blinked twice, and it appeared again, still not heated.
I blinked three times, and it was suddenly glowing red within the flames.
Without missing the moment, I thrust in my hand and pulled it out at once.
I placed the red-hot orichalcum on the anvil, activated [Smithing] while filling it with fantasy, and began hammering immediately.
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
The hammer trailed by red mist moved up and down, scattering sharp sounds in every direction.
But as if displaying its stubborn nature, the orichalcum refused to change shape. Then all I could do was keep hammering harder.
Hammering.
Hammering.
Hammering.
Whenever the temperature dropped to the point where I could no longer hammer it, I put it back into the furnace, waited, took it out, and hammered it again.
By the time Smith had fallen into a state of selflessness and continued hammering, by the time even Shikizaki Kiki was captivated by those hammer strikes in which Smith had forgotten himself, the stubborn orichalcum finally bent its will and gradually began to change shape.
But Smith, who continued hammering, had no time to rejoice. All that remained in his mind was the need to hammer.
As the orichalcum yielded its stubbornness and changed shape, sparks flew in every direction with every strike, while the impurities hidden within it were also flung away.
After hammering for what felt like an eternity, when the hammering finally stopped, the fist-sized ore had gradually taken on a rectangular form.
At this point, I put the orichalcum back into the furnace. This time, however, I used the chemical I had used before to help bond metals together, temporarily attaching an iron bar to the orichalcum before placing it in the furnace. I could have held it with my bare hands, but it would be difficult to fold the orichalcum using the forge-folding method with bare hands, so I folded it with an iron bar attached.
After waiting a long while as before, I took it out the moment I saw that it had heated up and hammered it.
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
After hammering for a while without disturbing its rectangular shape, I placed the middle of the now-lengthened orichalcum against the edge of the anvil. Holding the portion resting on the anvil with one hand, I struck the protruding portion with the hammer in my other hand using the proper force. Too hard, and the internal structure would be damaged. Too weak, and it would not fold. It was crucial to strike with the proper force—the most difficult measure in the world.
When it had folded slightly past ninety degrees, I took it from the edge of the anvil, turned it so the bent section faced upward, and began hammering it until it folded completely. Then, before the heat could fade, I hammered the folded portion again to fuse it perfectly.
Once.
Once it had bonded completely, it was no different from before. I simply put it back into the furnace and waited. When the orichalcum in the furnace glowed red, I pulled it out again by the iron bar.
Just as before, I hammered it into shape and folded it. Before the heat faded, I struck it with the hammer so it could bond again as if it had always been one piece.
Twice.
I waited for it to glow red, took it out, hammered it, folded it, and hammered it again.
Three times.
Take it out, hammer it, fold it, hammer it.
Four times.
Hammer it, fold it, hammer it.
Five times.
Hammer it, fold it.
Six times.
Stop. This was enough. Folding it many times was not inherently good, nor was folding it only a few times inherently bad. A smith had to trust only his own eyes and judge where to stop.
"Mm-hm, you are pretty good. You have talent!"
...Let's take a break. After doing this much, I needed to compose myself. It was about time to eat, too. Normally, I would have fallen into a trance while making it and kept forging without eating anything, but now I seemed to be able to control myself to some degree... probably.
I filled my stomach with some preserved food from the workshop and returned to the furnace. I had started in the morning, yet it was already nearing evening.
Now it was time to join the hagane and shingane and complete the full blade.
"It is my time to step in! Now, the important thing in this process is to get the ratio between the center and both sides juuuust right. First, shape the hagane, heat the shingane, and put them together!"
I put the orichalcum to be used as hagane back into the furnace, took it out as soon as it heated up, and hammered it. This time, though, I would not fold it anymore. I only needed to increase its length and width. The orichalcum hagane was completed as thin as a sheet of iron, with a length of over seventy-five centimeters including both the tang and blade.
Then I put the hagane back into the furnace. After a long while, rather than taking it out again, I put the shingane into the furnace as well and heated it the same way.
I had not simply thrown it in. I had calculated the heating times of the hagane and shingane, adjusting them so that both would be fully heated and ready to take out at the same time.
And when both were fully heated, I quickly took them out and set them onto the mounted anvil I had made recently for this work, its interior carved into a concave shape—hagane on the bottom, shingane on top. I took out a small hammer and struck them so they would bond properly. Once they had joined perfectly within the concave mold, I placed them on the original anvil and, slowly, slowly hammered them, folding them completely and shaping the blade. Should I make it in the kobuse style, or the makuri style? I had to decide quickly...!
"When I made it, I used makuri."
Then I needed to carefully wrap the back with the hagane so the shingane would not slip out as much as possible.
"Pause for one beat, two beats, three beats there, then hammer again. You have to hammer after the heat escapes through the vent holes, or cracks will form inside."
"Hmm, since the hagane is a single solid piece anyway, you do not need to worry about jitada."
"When you join the spine again, be careful not to leave any trace. The tiniest trace can lead to an enormous crack."
Taking Shikizaki Kiki's advice echoing in my mind into account, I shaped the blade. I hated to admit it, but this bastard's skill was the real thing. Every piece of advice he tossed out made it seem as though I could glimpse the edge of a new horizon. It was enough to make me believe he had laid the foundation for altering history through swordmaking alone.
By the time the blade had completely cooled, the form of the sword had fortunately been completed as well.
All that remained was to apply yakibatsuchi clay and quench it to create the hamon.
To create the hamon, I needed to apply the special clay called yakibatsuchi, heat the blade, then quench it again... But it was late now, so I should get some sleep before beginning the hamon work. I had definitely started in the morning, so why was another morning sun already rising...? Even if I had no major physical problems, Hephaestus had repeatedly told me that mental fatigue needed rest. So I slept for a reasonable amount of time before returning to work.
Now, finally... I was only halfway done.