"Ouch!"

Ding

|Cracked Pine Ring. Useless (F-)

Note: Ugly and rough. Pure scrap!|

Midnight sucked at his bleeding thumb and harrumphed the detestable message. There was no need for the AI to announce his mishaps. No, it did it in a gleeful manner no less! Although its voice was the same - unreadable, genderless, monotone - he somehow could tell that it was giggling right now. It was definitely enjoying the show while sipping some wine and smoking a cigar.

Another failure. That makes it the third in a row. Hah, I underestimated the difficulty of carving...

He seized up his lamentable model and narrowed his eyes. The surface of the wood was uneven. It was rough and covered in sticking-out splinters. One of the said had just punctured his thumb, drawing a drop of dark crimson blood from its tip. To add oil to the fire, the thickness was not very consistent, resulting in a deep crack that broke it in two.

Is it a problem with the wood of my choice?

He examined the prototype and rubbed his smooth chin. Inside Euclex, his half-ling body never grew stubble. It was both strange and refreshing that he could skip shaving himself.

No, Pine is considered a softwood, and softwood is easy to carve. My choice was correct. If the wood is beginner-friendly then I can only blame my lack of practical skills...

At first glance, carving seemed simple. Paired with his native dexterity it should have been like drinking some tea. Yet, the item he was trying to make proved a bit tricky.

To save on materials and reduce his work later, the prototype had to be the precise size, thin, hollow, and finely detailed. The sole light in the tunnel was that there was no need for further embellishments. The rest could be done after the cast.

Slightly exasperated, he used his finger to tap on the table and think.

This time around I wasn't too careful. I thinned more of this part and it caused the wood to crack later. Then, should I make it a bit thicker? As long as the inner size is correct I can always scrape the excess metal...

Ten seconds later, he came up with a vague idea, nodded his head, and unceremoniously threw the wooden object into a faraway shadow. Out of sight, out of the mind. This one was unusable and he had to switch gears. What mattered the most was to concentrate on his future attempts.

He took another piece of the wood. It was purchased from Anna at half-price; a special offer she made for his apparently lovely cute self. Then, steadied his hands, and slowly, carefully, began working. One step at a time, one tiny nibble after another.

After three failed attempts, he began gaining proficiency. Perhaps, it was a matter of the mind, or his racial dexterity finally kicked in, but his hands seemed to shake less and his actions grew confident.

First, he used a seesaw to cut the plank into appropriate pieces and then took his dagger to trim the excess. After more than ten minutes, he had a piece similar to a thick and slightly large coin.

Or is it a token? Anyway...

He flung the dagger back on the table and reached for a chisel instead.

Using the rusty old dagger for the rough preparation was fine, but its tip was too blunt and its size was too large for his childish hand. With it, he lacked the proper precision. In fact, most weapons found in the General Store were as such. They weren't kid-friendly. Even sadder was that this depressing reality applied to everything else, not solely the weapons. Tables, chairs, beds, cutlery... It was as if the whole village discriminated against his poor species. Which, was not entirely false. In the Southern Empire, everyone excluding the humans was viewed with less or more prejudice.

In contrast, his smithy was different. The table and the conjured chair were perfect. He could work without stretching his neck, his shoulder and back didn't hurt, and his feet didn't have to dangle above ground. This alone was enough to compensate for the pain and the bad fate he suffered while gaining the skill.

With the chisel in hand, he put the token flat on the table, lowered the tool, and carefully punctured a hole. Then, with the pace of a snail chipped at the opening. A few minutes later, when he was halfway done with the job and the hole seemed large enough to fit something, he took the metal ring sizer and pushed it inside. The ring passed smoothly and stopped at a marking.

It needs a bit more. If I leave it this size, it won't fit on an adult man's hand. Not to mention some strange monstrosity species... Sigh, the world may discriminate against my persona, but I can't discriminate against possible customers. This is the fate of a craftsman~

With a hum, he returned to his work and reduced the wood more. Finished with the inside, he made further outer corrections and glanced at the table. Reaching out, he took a certain piece of sandpaper. Its course surface scraped at his hand, but remembering its price directly injured his heart. Going in circles he was once again broke.

What's left are the finishing touches!

Ding

|Wavy Pine Ring. Common (C+)

Note: Was it intentional or is the craftsman just drunk? If you don't believe me, just roll it!|

"..." He silently read the description and bit at his lip. After fighting himself for a second, he couldn't bear this injustice and snapped at the system. "Do you need to be such a spiteful jerk all of the time? I am the type that works better when showered in compliments! Cut me some slack!"

Glaring at no one in particular, he put the ring on the table, and with a casual flick pushed it forward.

Roll Roll Clank

It pretended to roll but soon gave up, wobbled unsteadily, and fell on its side; the wood clinking against the mirror-like surface.

Pursing his lips, he reached for the item and brought it close to his eyes. Indeed, as the AI had said, the surface was a tiny bit wobbly. Ok, it may not have been as tiny as he was hoping. Otherwise, it wouldn't have toppled after barely a circle or two.

He put the prototype back and tapped on the table.

It isn't too bad, but it isn't up to my mark. I can't correct the small misalignment as well. Any further modifications may lead to another unfortunate fracture. I'd rather keep it as a spare if I can't produce anything else...

Heh, if I had chosen to use wax, carving would have proven much simpler. However, wax burns upon casting. Such models aren't reusable. Sparing the effort now will lead to a headache in the imminent future. Yes, there is no need to increase my work later. Am I not learning? Mistakes are inevitable! I have enough wood to go one step at a time.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He took another small piece of the Pine and resumed the same process. Annoying or not, he chose to stick to his three principles.

The first one was to never give up or shirk on his efforts.

No matter how many failures or how much time he had to spend on the negligent work. No matter how boring and monotonous it seemed. He had to persist and never prostrate to despair. Only by pushing himself, again and again, could he improve and grasp the intangible sense of proficiency.

To craft was to slowly fill up a bucket by using only your tears and sweat. Every small drop was important. Every mistake was a chance to learn and improve.

His second principle was to strive for the best possible outcome.

Carving the prototype was just the tip of the iceberg. What would follow was much more important and countless times more difficult. Yet, he felt that accepting anything less than the best would put a fullstop to his budding career. Not only wouldn't he craft a better-grade item, but this sort of mentality was a poison.

A craftsman who succumbed to compromises regarding the quality was not a good craftsman. Nor would they ever become.

The third and last rule in his notebook was to always find joy in his work.

It seemed like a stupid and childish matter, but, to Midnight, it was the most important of all.

If he lost the pleasure of crafting, reaching the ultimate goal would change nothing. He would continue to live in a dark gloomy entrapment, even inside of Euclex. This wasn't the escape and the freedom he wanted. It was just a change of the background surrounding his cage.

As he worked slowly, the prototype finally took a beautiful shape. It was the correct size, the thickness was ok, and he couldn't see any notable waver.

He halted his breath, put the ring on the table, and rolled it.

Roll Roll Roll Roll Clang

The small object kept a good speed, reached the far side, and even toppled beyond.

Yes! Let's see how you will degrade me this time!

He pumped his fists and ran to pick up his precious small baby. If he lost it right now, he would probably pull his hair in tears.

Ding.

|Fine Pine Ring. Common(B+)

Note: A miracle! A miracle happened! The blind one must have glimpsed at the light!|

He put the ring safe in his lone intact pocket and rolled his eyes at the message. "I wonder who of us has the cat shapeshifting skill. Like a feline you never fall on your back, do you? The lack of ability to praise others is a sign of your immaturity and inner complexes... Or so I read in a book..."

While he chided the AI without expecting an answer, he circled the table and under the mysterious light of the star, collected the conjured items for his next endeavor. Making a model was the first step of his work. To cast the metalwork later, he had to create a few molds.

With the happiness of his first tiny success as his fuel, he dropped the items on top of the table and took a head count.

I already have the prepared wet sand. I did it before I began brainstorming designs. I hope it had enough time to infuse the water correctly...

A sieve, a water dispenser, the tiniest iron mold frames, a small hammer, a brush, the smaller bag with dry sand, and all the wooden items I need are all here. I shouldn't waste time. Let's proceed with the next step while I am still brimming with energy...

Man, I hope this goes better than the carving...

In the end, all handicrafts had similarities. It wasn't surprising that Blaze was the god of them all. For example, preparing the 'ingredients', was the basis of smithing, cooking, sewing, and apothecary alike.

He snapped his notebook open and reread a particular page. It contained notes on his next step. It seemed surprisingly straightforward but the carving didn't look difficult either. He couldn't count the eggs yet.

Closing his notes, he put the book down to the side of a heavy wooden dark board. Then, with the board as a basis, he grabbed half of a frame and placed it on top, paying attention to the conjoining side facing the ground.

Next, he took the model out of his pocket, gently kissed its smooth surface, and with extreme care and love placed it inside of the frame. After some contemplation, he nudged the ring gently and centered it in the middle.

When this was done and he felt some satisfaction, he reached out, grabbed the bag of dry sand and the sifter, and diligently covered the inner side of the mold with fine particles. He used the water spray, in honor of his superb skill that let him imagine an item unbefitting the continent's setting, and sprayed some water on top...

Making a mold was indeed simple.

The idea was to create a negative impression of the positive prototype. There were many ways to achieve this, but all required impression materials.

In this case, Midnight was forced to use sand. It wasn't the best option, and if he could he would have preferred modern-age high-temperature silicones, but unlike equipment, he couldn't imagine materials in this space. Nor, could he buy anything similar in Lesotte.

When the sand particles became wet, promising finer impression details, he took the already prepared bag of wet sand. Careful, so that the model wouldn't shift in the process, he scooped some with his hands, and stacked it into the mold. Deliberately, he put quite a bit of an extra, overfilling the mold. It wasn't a mistake but a simple necessity for what was to happen.

Humming a tune, he took the small hammer and began compressing the sand. A few minutes later, the structure looked firm. Changing to a wooden ruler-like object, he scraped the excess and finished it by closing the lid.

Less done, more to come...

The next step was rather important.

He grabbed his creation and the board underneath and sharply flipped the whole thing.

Pa

He took the board down and studied the visible surface. More than half buried in the sand was his beloved model. It gazed at him silently as if begging to be taken away.

"Wait a bit more. We are not just about done."

He winked at it gently, cleaned the grooves from the piled-in sand, and took the other half of the mold. Conjoining them, he repeated the process. Sifting fine sand, spraying with water, wet sand with excess, hammering, scraping, and closing.

In less than five minutes, he completed the actions, pulled a coarse cloth and wiped his moist forehead. He loved this strange smithy, but the temperature was a bit over the top. Was there a need for the furnaces, forges, torches and even the glaring sun to always be lit?!

What follows is a bit tricky. It's not an exaggeration to call it the moment of truth. I need to stay calm. Not too fast, nor too slow either. Let my motions flow like the river above the realm of immortals~ Let my hands be steadier than the steadiest Mount!

Suppressing the slight tremble in his sweat-ridden fingers, he bent down and grabbed at the frame. Gently, as if hatching a birdling, he moved his hands upward and disassembled the mold.

Phew

A heavy breath of relief escaped through his lips, paired with a few sweat droplets that rolled past his sharp chin.

The prototype was revealed, and it still asked the same question. The surface around it was smooth, and the same applied to the opposite half of the mold.

It was successful!

Jumping on place, Midnight bent near the prototype and whispered to it, "Darling, don't urge me. I'm on my way to your rescue. In a second or so I will pull you out of this cold and wet prison! And if you dare betray me and the sand collapses, we are as good as done. I will instantly call my lawyer and demand a divorce!"

More excited than nervous he joked with the wood, and gently dug it out of the sand. What he had now was the promised negative hollow bearing its form. It looked very well done, with only a few tiny sand particles scattered around.

Very good. The wet sand had settled in time and the compression was rather successful. Could you imagine it? It may actually work!

Envigorated, he grabbed the brush and cleared the surface before spraying more water just to be safe.

Ah, I feel accomplished and I am not even done with the job. Why do I have the bad feeling that this overconfidence will pull the carpet under my feet?

Heh, thankfully, my Forge doesn't have carpets!

He lampooned inwardly and returned to his work.

He seized up the newest indention and calculated a couple of matters. When he felt ready, he took a small wooden post and pierced a hole a few centimeters away. The newly formed tunnel wasn't directly connected to the impression, but it reached all the way to the lid.

Next, with a small chisel, he dug a shallow groove and connected the two negative forms before he switched to forming an additional chamber. Unlike the long passage, this chamber wasn't supposed to reach the frame's lid. Doing so was a mistake that could even ruin the true casting.

As for why he had to add these important details: The first two additions were meant to lead the melted alloy into the real impression, while the chamber had a different purpose per se; it was a space to collect the excess metal.

When casting, he had to pour a scorching hot liquid into the mold and wait for it to cool down. He couldn't pour less or the impression wouldn't be filled. And pouring more without the excess chamber was just as detrimental to the ending result.

Done with the main task, he cleaned the dislodged sand particles and closed the two sides. A smile crept on his lips and he couldn't help but swirl a tiny folk dance.

I did it just fine! Now, I have to do a couple of these... Yes, I have to choose an alloy, refine the raw ore, calculate and create the alloy, finish the casting, cut, and polish a pair of gems, carve the ring's surface, attach the gems to the metal, polish everything up, and...

Suddenly his dance halted and he felt a headache knock on his head. Wasn't he just at the beginning of the beginning of the beginning?

His stomach grumbled in unhappy agreement.