Let me talk about one of my pet peeves. The sentence, "Magic and Science don't mix, they are opposites of one another," is the most unscientific statement one could ever utter. Sorry, Kazuma Kamachi [1].
Allow me to explain. Back on Earth, people (and scientists) dismiss magic because there was no evidence of its existence despite centuries of attempts to prove the contrary. Therefore, Earthlings can state that "Magic does not exist" with a high degree of certainty. Anything beyond that is speculation. All it would take was an event to be repeated once to throw all that out the window. Like casting the same spell twice with similar results (within reason).
We were not in Kansas anymore. Or on Earth, to be precise.
Here in Yznarian, Magic existed. Period. It interacted with everything, permeated every aspect of the world. It was true before an invasive foreign super-magical-computer (see?) that somehow was full of Earth data (and probably was made there) promoted people to super-humans. Even at low levels, what people could do with System assistance was mind-boggling. A level 20 [Warrior] was stronger than an Olympic Athlete. But I digress.
Magic followed the laws of thermodynamics. Just like all the physics experiments with, let's say, gaseous systems and exchange of heat assumed a closed system, these same laws back on Earth assumed there was no external Force outside of the big four. "Magic does not exist", remember? Well, magic destroyed that assumption, so we need to bring it to the equation. Just like those adiabatic expansions didn't work if the theoretical system leaked gaseous matter, magic threw a wrench on classic physics.
Let's add a magical "dimension" to our set of natural laws. Here in Yznerian, we had an energy type called mana permeating everything. The System quantified the amount of mana gathered inside a person's body as MP. This MP, with System assistance, could be expended to cause a magical phenomenon. Let's say, cast a {Firebolt} spell. The energy from the fire came from this MP. The transformation had a very low-efficiency ratio, as a fine-tuned System user could create the same phenomenon, with all the same parameters, using less MP. For example, between Marisol and I, we used disparagingly different amounts of MP for the same spell.
Even when magic was "subverting" the laws of physics, like when levitating an object, it actually wasn't. All that happened was that the spell applied a force opposite to the gravitational pull. How? I had no fucking idea. But the observation remained. For example, I could levitate a toy canoe and put a marble inside. Tilting the canoe made the marble roll downward. Gravity still worked inside the canoe. The levitation spell on the canoe was counterbalancing the canoe's weight. Once removed, the canoe would fall to the ground, with the marble just as classic physics dictated. The external force disappeared, just as if invisible strings were cut.
Let's not get started on gravitational magic (which I was sure existed but the Gods blocked for some reason).
Magic could even affect the forces inside an atom's nucleus. Infusing a heavy isotope with magic stabilized the nucleus, allowing the atom that would decay in an infinitesimal fraction of a second to endure normally. After I did some calculations, the carbon isotope that people called "Carbonium" had a nuclear mass of around thirty. Compare it to the stable "mundane" isotope at twelve, and you can see why it is insane. Six protons, twenty-four neutrons. Yet it existed. I even denatured a sample to test.
Okay, rant mode off. But it was necessary to understand the next discovery I made. Which brought us to my current dilemma.
I had a lot of this "blue iron" alloy to play with. It behaved exactly like what one would expect from unforged iron and it was blue. Since it contained so much carbon, I forged a sword with it and attempted to harden the weapon by quenching it.
The results, however, were catastrophic. The metal fractured and broke into small pieces like tempered glass, sending a shower of metal shards everywhere. Fortunately, nobody was hurt. The alloy reacted badly to the sudden change in temperature and hardened too much. Examining a fragment, I could see striations. Detailed analysis under a microscope and using my pseudopods to eat from different stripes revealed that the metals separated as the alloy cooled.
I needed another method of hardening with a small rod. After deactivating some of my Abilities that improved tensile strength and malleability, I tried cold hardening by deforming the alloy past its tensile limit (like when you try to break a wire by twisting it. The twisted portions are harder than the rest of the wire) but it just broke after I hammered and bent the blue iron rod. It didn't separate in striped phases and the material immediately next to the break proved to be extremely hard. It scratched hardened steel.
Obviously, I was almost there but not quite. I needed another method of hardening. I visited Helger and asked my father what he thought.
"I talked to the minotaurs about this blue iron, but they usually throw away the thing. It's too soft and quenching caused it to explode. They mostly use it as a joke material to haze new smiths."
I frowned. "No, I think there's something. See this broken piece here? See how hard it is."
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I let him examine the broken rod. He poked it, bit the metal, then sighed, "You're right. It is quite hard. But we can't… wait a second."
He placed the broken rod in a crucible and put the crucible in the forge to smelt. We talked about life in Dungeon city and how the dwarves wanted to mine the shit out of the nearby tunnels, but they would soon face the Dungeon denizens once they dug into a tunnel connecting to the labyrinthine nightmare.
"Yes, I think you're right. For training, and accessing the deep Dungeon, this place is fine, but mining beyond the reach of the Dungeon Core is foolishness," he concluded.
We removed the crucible from the forge and dumped the material in an ingot mold. The hardened part, however, didn't melt. I fished it out with a pair of {Force Tongs}.
"Now, this is interesting. Let me try with a hotter forge."
We went back to my workshop, and I fired the piece in the hottest forge the {Shadow Workshop} could create. It was thousands of degrees hotter than the coke forge Helger used. While the metal simmered in the ceramic crucible, I invited Helger to "move-in" with me.
"Speaking of which, I upgraded this Perk after my rank-up, father. You can work here with me and gain the same Proficiency bonuses I do."
"Nah. A dwarf's anvil is like his wife! Suspect the dwarf that borrows one!" He guffawed. "I'm fine, daughter. This," he pointed at the giant vats chock-full of demon carapaces, "is too crazy for me."
I laughed with him.
We removed the searing hot crucible and dumped the contents. The parts less hardened melted under the relentless heat, but part of it didn't. I removed the twisted and ridiculously hard fragment of metal and checked it with {Appraise}.
> High Carbonium steel fragment.
>
> Price: junk.
>
> > An extremely hard and apparently impossible-to-melt piece of metal. It is useless except as a proof-of-concept.
Damn. Was the System mocking me? "Proof-of-concept?" I share my findings with Helger. Then I tested its hardness against several materials until I slapped my forehead and asked the {Shadow Workshop} to give me a hardness meter with a diamond tip indenter probe. I had to supply the tiny diamond, though. We poked the metal with the probe and the gem created the tiniest of dimples on the metal.
Double damn. My {Legend Harvester} Perk was screaming at me that there was something here.
I racked my brain trying to find another method of hardening. We dwarves dominated the pinnacle of metallurgy, the current state-of-the-art. But not on Earth. Wasn't there another hardening method?
I remembered a documentary about aerospatial titanium and aluminum alloys. They weren't quenched but were hardened all the same. How did they do it? They put it in an oven and let it bake at high temperatures for a long time.
"I think I got it, father!" I squealed.
I stared at an empty spot and an oven-forge appeared. The {Legend Workshop} lost the dark and brooding mood of the shadow-stuff from the original {Shadow Workshop}. It now appeared like normal objects, normal materials. It was still made of shadow magic, but it had texture and color. Probably some elaborate illusion overlaid on the shadow-stuff.
I took my hammer and went to the Anvil, with a silent Helger close on my heels, brimming with curiosity but giving me room to do my thing. And "do my thing" I did. The thing was a bastard sword blade made of blue-iron. I didn't just forge any blade. If my suspicions were right, this should be THE blade. I even engraved as many runes as I could before putting it in the oven.
I let my instincts and Proficiencies and Perks guide me as I set the temperature. I replaced the demon carapaces in the vats, learning that the number of carapaces I could process was insane but it didn't mean I could put more in the alchemical vat than what fit. The Proficiency just accelerated the time needed for the softening solution to do its magic. "Magic."
Several hours later, I let the oven cool down slowly, taking notes of the process and temperature. My [Baker] proficiency granted me synergy because I was basically making unleavened metal bread. Or so I rationalized it. I finally remembered the name of this hardening process. "Precipitation Hardening", or "Age Hardening".
When it was cool enough to remove from the oven, I removed the slightly less blue but much cooler sword blade.
> High Carbonium steel Bastard Sword blade.
>
> Price: 54 Kingmetal coins.
>
> Damage: 6d10 + 20
>
> > An extremely hard and apparently impossible to melt bastard sword blade. It has decorative runes engraved on the blade but the metal can't be enchanted.
I attached a cross-guard and hilt to the blade and tested it. It sliced a dented steel breastplate with a bit of effort. I knew what I had in my hand. I was brimming with joy.
"System, rename 'High Carbonium steel'. There's a better name."
> ACKNOWLEDGED. Awaiting input to submit to the Administrators.
I knocked on the sword blade. "This alloy is Adamantite." I didn't need to wait for too long. The System answered right away.
> Your inquiry was accepted. "High Carbonium steel" is now listed as "Adamantite".
>
> You gained 10 bonus points of [Metalsmith] Proficiency.
> Metalsmith (*) [ 291 / 291 ]. Select 1 Ability.
>
> * Weapon Damage: Increase the damage dice by (Proficiency/ [12*Die_Size]) and the base damage by (Proficiency/50).
The next item I made was a set of two clawed gauntlets with three long retractable spring-loaded claws each. Snikt, snikt, bub.
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[1] Writer of the Toaru series (Index, Railgun, Accelerator, and its dozens of spin-offs).