A week later, Wedan, Hoen, Orry, and other blacksmiths in the adjacent workshops fell into a trance as a subtle but piercing melody found its way through the walls and through the doors. Forging the wood on his underworldly anvil, the singing blacksmith was surrounded by an orchestra of instruments.
Floating in the air and playing themselves they were accompanying his demonic patter with hypnotic tunes. Mouth agape and her eyes widened in shock, Sivri witnessed such a scene for the first time. She swallowed at the sight, and old habit from when she still had a mortal body.
She had thought she had seen the extent of his capabilities when he forged the Armor of Lunacy, but this was on a whole nother scale, as even her mechanic heart couldn't help but race. It was as if she could feel the presence of a demon god stroking across her metallic body.
This was a tremendously different style from the way Forgebrand used to work. Even in his later years, when he slowly... The workshop had never seemed to have been so filled with madness and chaos that was somehow spun into an unnatural order by the guidance of the voice and the beat of the anvil.
As demonic power shaped dark runes in the air, they were forged into the golden wood, turning it a dark brass color. While the song rose and fell, part of the wood became darker and darker and slowly gained a distinctive shape. A corpus resembling a mix of lute and violin but bigger than either and so dark it resembled the night, only a dim golden sheen reminding of the stars. The next was a wheel so black it seemed to swallow all light.
Smaller parts followed, keeping a brighter gold. A crank, golden keys, stringholders, tuning pegs and other parts the golden dwarf could not identify, She had learned a little, watching over the past days, but not a lot.
The concert of creation went on for hours, with Sivri unable to take her eyes off the anvil and the parts that slowly accumulated on the workbench beside it. She shuddered when the instruments in the air, one by one stopped playing and sank to the ground. The play came to an end. The last to fall silent was the blacksmith's voice that had grown to sing with unprecedented power and eerily terrifying beauty.
In the silence that followed, Sivri suddenly felt an unexplained fear. A longing so strong that it felt like her world would break apart at the thought that the music had ended and she may never hear it again. It was just an inexplicable short moment, but it thoroughly shorted the golem's mind. She had just stood aside and listened, and suddenly felt such a disturbing emotion.
While she was confused about her own state, the blacksmith finally put his hammer aside and let out a deep sigh. Only now, that the tension was gone, did it become clear how tired the craftsman was. He was not just drenched, a small pool of sweat had formed under his feet and he was leaning onto the anvil for support.
" Fuuuu- finally done," he let out a long breath and sat on the floor.
"Are you okay?" Sivri finally came to it and walked over to ask.
"I'm fine, more or less;" Seth said with a tired look.
The reason this time's ballad had taken a toll on him, was the nature of his audience. There were a few demons that were known for their music, like Phenex or Amducias, but for a legendary instrument, Seth had chosen someone special.
Not least because it was necessary to have a noticeable effect on a legendary material with a strong connection to life. The patron he had channeled this time was the Pale King, Paimon. He was not just one of the strongest order of demons, but also a connoisseur of fine arts and music. The bard had to give his absolute all, even creating an orchestra using
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Now he was utterly exhausted, having spent almost all his mana and mental power on the performance and crafting. It was not without reward as a few of his skills had improved. His
Using the relic-rated wood from the guardian tree, he had managed to raise
The blacksmith's knees were still shaky from the pressure he had endured through channeling. The presence of an actual demon king was something else, especially when life and death depended on not messing up a single note in a song, while simultaneously infusing energy into the crafting materials and forging precise mechanical parts.
Seth could only hope the effect of the ballad was worth it. The book said that the ballad could imbue Paimon's power into an instrument which would then improve the power of the music played on it, similar to the set effect of his armor.
He had started in the morning, so it was time for lunch when he was ready to finish to break. He took his time and enjoyed a meal, before returning to assemble the project. Orderly lying before him on his workbench were the parts he prepared.
Twelve Strings with
More or less feeling better after his break, Seth started assembling and properly fitting them together, reworking and refining parts as he went along.
This was the item Oz had suggested to him when he found that the string made of
Oz called it a hurdy-gurdy, or a wheel fiddle. The wheel and keys eliminated any need to pluck the strings himself, keeping the durability of his gloves intact. Being held similar to a guitar, it also wouldn't be hard to play it wearing his full armor.
Not to mention, that Seth had become intrigued with its possibilities after testing some of the ones he made to practice beforehand. Especially with the capabilities to add the drone and bourdon strings and trumpets as background to melodies, it was a little like he became a little solo orchestra.
With all these details, it was obviously a little harder to deal with everything when he wanted to really use everything it was able to. To solve it he could raise his
The best solution was adding an ego soul, the way Oz and Gleobem were. With an ego, he could leave it to the instrument itself to tune and play some of the lesser functions in conjunction with him.
As much as he wanted one, even Tano'Mol was unable to get him something like the legendary ego soul of a bard. Bard souls in general were rather rare, it seemed. Oz was best suited for his lyre and Gleobem didn't deserve to become the ego of such an instrument.
This was why intended to do it the same way as Legion, to use the Basic Automaton Core enchantment on a soul and have the ego slowly grow over time. This way the hurdy-gurdy would become much more attuned to Seth, than using some unfamiliar ego.
Finally, the instrument was mostly assembled. The bard was now almost down. He just needed to string and tune the hurdy-gurdy and make sure all keys and tangents fit well and worked before creating its soul mirror image to insert.
There were no enchantments to engrave or poems to etch. The only decorative thing he added to the instrument after finishing its body was his master mark. In stark contrast to the dark golden sheen of the corpus, it shone with the wood's original golden hue.