Translator: CinderTL
Whoosh...
Roland finally exhaled deeply as the "whispers" of the materials around him gradually subsided.
He rubbed his throbbing temples and instantly activated his Focus trait.
Fueled by his formidable mental attribute of eighteen points, his thoughts raced at an unprecedented speed.
In mere moments, he had fully digested and absorbed the vast knowledge granted by his Enchanter class.
Engraving spell patterns, imbuing elemental attribute... Is this the true power of an Enchanter?
As he gazed at the highly condensed mental power swirling at his fingertips—like an invisible chisel and hammer—Roland marveled silently.
Without pausing, he immediately picked up the nearby hammer.
The rhythmic clang of metal echoed through the workshop.
Soon, with a hiss of steam, Roland retrieved the roughly forged blade from the quenching pool.
Grinding, polishing...
Before long, a flawless iron sword lay gleaming on the anvil.
Feeling the impeccable balance of the sword in his hand, Roland's lips curved into a faint smile.
The combination of Elemental Imprint and Material Empathy had not only enhanced his Enchanter abilities but had also propelled his forging skills to new heights.
"The affinity between earth and fire element..."
He murmured softly, stroking the smooth, icy blade of the sword.
Without hesitation, Roland's gaze sharpened.
In an instant, his mental power materialized into a tangible force at his fingertips.
Focusing intently, he recalled the knowledge he had just acquired, steadily hovering his finger over the sword's spine.
Hiss!
With a soft hiss, the mental power at his fingertip sliced through the resilient metal like a hot knife through butter, instantly carving a delicate groove into the surface.
The groove lengthened as Roland's finger moved, and intricate, patterned lines slowly emerged across the sword's surface.
During this process, Roland clearly sensed the elemental particles in the air—those previously free-floating, shimmering motes.
Particularly the scorching fire element and the heavy earth element were being drawn in through the dragonbone bracer on his left wrist, flowing continuously into his body, converging at his right fingertip, and precisely channeling into the forming patterns.
These element, once as elusive as spirits, now flowed with remarkable docility through the carved mana channels, surging, leaping, and even subtly churning in response to the patterns' guidance.
The conductive properties of iron, however, were ultimately limited, causing the flow of element to feel somewhat sluggish.
In stark contrast to the effortless flow of element, the act of engraving the spell pattern itself was immensely draining for Roland.
Fatigue crashed over him like relentless waves, each surge pounding against his consciousness.
His powerful mental power was continuously being drained, sweat streaming down his forehead like a small river. Within moments, the ground beneath his feet was already soaked.
Yet Roland gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with unwavering determination, and refused to let his hand falter.
After what felt like an eternity, when the intricate spell pattern finally covered the entire sword's spine, forming a complete arcane structure, he abruptly stopped.
As if he had just emerged from a fierce battle, Roland gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he greedily sucked in air.
"It's done!"
Regaining his composure, Roland shook his slightly dizzy head and raised the iron sword high above him.
Visually, the sword appeared no different from an ordinary standard-issue iron sword.
But with the combined enhancements of Elemental Imprint and Material Empathy, Roland could clearly "feel" two distinct Elemental forces surging within the cold blade.
Though their attributes were utterly incompatible, they flowed in alternating currents like inseparable partners, creating a strange equilibrium.
"This is... simply miraculous..."
Under the moonlight, the sword's blade gleamed with a chilling, cold light.
Roland suppressed the urge to test the sword immediately, set it down, and turned to push open the workshop door.
It was already late at night.
The Blacksmith's Guild, which had been bustling with activity earlier, was now deserted, with only a few flickering lamps casting dim shadows.
After carefully surveying the guild to ensure no one else was present, Roland retrieved the iron sword and strode down the dimly lit corridor.
Soon, he stopped before a massive wooden door.
Pushing open the heavy door, he lit the torches on the wall.
The leaping flames swiftly banished the darkness, illuminating the testing ground—a chamber adjacent to the furnace, separated by thick stone walls.
This area was specifically designed for testing newly forged weapons and tools.
The floor was stained with years of accumulated grease, and the air hung thick with the metallic tang of iron and the damp scent of wood.
In the center of the room stood several battered test-cutting posts, with buckets of cooling water placed nearby.
At the far end of the testing ground stood a row of straw targets riddled with arrow holes, with clear distance markers etched into the ground.
In one corner, a heavy, curved anvil was bolted to the floor, next to a testing dummy whose armor was covered in dents.
A layer of metallic powder floated on the surface of the massive quenching trough against the wall, while a thick wooden testing bench nearby was scattered with whetstones, small hammers, and other tools.
Clang, clang, clang!
The muffled sound of leather boots striking the stone floor echoed sharply in the silent night.
The footsteps abruptly ceased. Roland, iron sword in hand, stood before an almost perfectly intact iron stake forged from scrap metal.
Huff...
He took a long, deep breath, deliberately relaxing his body and suppressing all combat instincts.
Then, with a swift motion, he raised the sword high above his head.
Swish!
A flash of silver light sliced through the air, carrying a cold wind as the blade descended in a powerful arc.
Yet the expected dull clang of metal against metal and the violent recoil never came.
The sensation...
It felt as if the blade had struck not a solid iron pillar, but a soft straw man.
The sword sliced through it effortlessly.
Bang!
Only when the iron pillar before him shattered into two halves did Roland snap out of his astonishment.
He lowered his gaze to examine the severed surfaces, finding them remarkably smooth and faintly crimson.
In some areas, the metal had even melted into molten iron, dripping slowly downward.
Hiss...
As a wisp of scorched-smelling white smoke rose, the astonishment in Roland's eyes was swiftly replaced by intense elation.
"Just an ordinary iron sword, imbued with an elemental attribute, could produce such an effect? And..."
He recalled the sensation of wielding the sword, instinctively clenching his left fist.
"The element within the sword's spell pattern aren't inert... they seem to respond to my will, even... drawing ambient Elemental energy from the environment and continuously channeling it into the blade..."
As Roland marveled, a faint humming sound reached his ears.
Following the sound, Roland saw the newly forged iron sword—which had felt remarkably well-crafted in his perception—now covered in a dense network of cracks that spread rapidly along its intricate spell patterns like a spiderweb.
Before he could react, Roland's right hand suddenly felt lighter.
Looking down, he saw the blade had shattered inch by inch into countless iron fragments that clattered to the ground.
"This is..."
Roland quickly reviewed the entire forging process, confirming he had made no mistakes. Then, with a sudden realization, he nodded slowly.
"It seems ordinary materials simply can't withstand the surging elemental strength within... Using it even once was already its limit..."
Understanding the reason brought no discouragement.
If iron, with its poor mana conductivity, could unleash such power when imbued with elemental properties, what could materials with better conductivity achieve?
Moreover...
He instinctively touched the Mithril Longsword at his waist, his gaze drifting to the few arrows scattered across the nearby target. A faint, upward curve tugged at the corner of his lips.
(End of the Chapter)
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