Adamantite's physical properties were impossible to obtain back on Earth. It had a hardness above nine, as it could scratch rubies. It was tougher than steel. Normal forces couldn't make it bend but when the sword I forged was subjected to a hydraulic press in the {Shadow Workshop}, it bent without breaking. I didn't have a gauge but it was in the thousands of PSI. The alloy wasn't super dense or super heavy. It was only slightly denser than steel, even before hardening. It wasn't a surprise considering it was 15% Titanium. It was also nigh immune to corrosion. Sulphuric acid, hydrofluoric acid only cleaned the bluish-gray metal, dissolving the impurities on the surface, like soot or fingerprints when I handled it without gloves (I didn't wear gloves to work. I was too tough and even if I nicked a finger for thousands of damage, it was gone microseconds later).
While in its "blue iron" non-hardened form, it could be shaped into anything normal iron could. I pulled it into a thin straight wire and hardened it. Back to the hydraulic press, I could bend the Adamantite wire but not break it. Next test, pulling. I made carabiners and hung as much weight as it could bear. At about a hundred tons, the carabiner stretched and deformed. It didn't break but also didn't return to its original shape. I tried again with an infinity-shaped loop and the support broke before the metal.
Despite its strength, Adamantite had one major characteristic that was both a boon and a flaw. It absorbed magic like crazy. I fired volleys of {Force Javelin} into an Adamantite tower shield, the projectiles barely scratched the metal before they were unraveled and absorbed by the shield. Just as a reference, a {Force Javelin} could puncture hardened steel and Force effects could grind diamonds. Elemental spells did nothing. They were just absorbed and dissipated into the environment once the metal reached its saturation. It was the perfect material to fight mages. On the other hand, it couldn't be enchanted, at all. Adding Cores, cut gemstones, precious materials, runes, etc, did nothing but decorate the item. The total enchantment points remained at a resounding zero.
Given the scarcity (disregarding my own personal stock) and difficulty to obtain, it was clear that Adamantite needed to be used in specific mission-critical places, where failure was not an option. Making full plate armor was a waste of material. Even Adamantite weapons had market prices comparable to most enchanted steel versions of the same thing. And the enchanted weapons were clearly superior in terms of damage and special effects.
The first practical use of Adamantite was obvious to me. Springs and coils. An Adamantite spring was hundreds of times stronger than a steel one. With that in mind, they could be made with thinner wire and would last forever. The second was ball bearings. Smooth Adamantite had little to no friction and I could make closed ball bearings that wouldn't get grit inside them. The third application was invulnerable codpieces. They could be sold at a huge premium to knights everywhere, but hold on to that last one for a moment.
Strong coils and (almost) frictionless ball bearings. We didn't have rubber so the last element I needed was the wheel tyre. Add the spokes and whatnot, why not make the whole wheel out of Adamantite? The number one cause for carriage delays was broken wheels. Only one problem. The wheels would be quickly stolen given their rarity and value.
I held my face in my hands and whimpered. I had a miracle material in my hands, but no practical use for it. Except for the codpieces. I could sell those to noble knights and princes for their (the person, not the codpiece) weight in gold. I could ask what Euric thought about it but I found myself unwilling to broach the subject. And I didn't need money.
Know what? Forget about Adamantite for a while. I was throwing a tantrum and grumbling in my underground {Shadow Workshop} when Helger and Baritono dropped in for a visit. I tried to recompose myself as I greeted them.
"Welcome, father!" I hugged him.
"Eh, it seems someone is having a bad day, Baritono!" He boastfully chortled as he slapped the other dwarf. Helger knew me too well. I failed to hide my annoyance from him. He didn't let go of me. Instead, he rubbed the crown of my head and asked, face-to-face. "What troubles you, dear daughter?
I explained to them my issues with Adamantite and the problem of not being able to enchant it. The scarcity of the material. Although I had yet to put a dent in my stock of claw-demons, it wasn't something that could be harvested and processed. While I explained my woes to them, Baritono played with the titanium springs and Helger studied the bent sword.
"No wonder why you are so flabbergasted. You're wasting perfectly good metal," Helger scolded me. "Why are you treating this 'Adamantite' as if it were steel? It's not. Forge me three swords. One of copper, one of bronze, and one of steel. And give us enough of this Adamantite to make an anvil and a set of tools for each of us. Then don't bother us until you have all three swords finished. I expect the best weapons you can forge."
"The ingots are in those shelves. You know how to use the hardening oven," I said but they were already pillaging my stock of blue iron ingots. I went away to forge the weapons he wanted.
I could hear the two boisterous dwarves chortling and talking loudly as they worked on the other side of the workshop. I heard something break, either ceramic or glass. Not my problem. With a slight effort of my will, twenty-one anvils appeared around me. I latched a hammer to each tail tip with {Absolute Clinging} and summoned enough {Force Tongs} to hold the copper ingots in place. Then I became Yznerian's first heavy metal drummer. I finished the copper swords and started working on the bronze ones. I knew there was a catch to Helger's request… no, challenge. I knew there was a catch to Helger's challenge and I put my mind to it as I hammered the bronze. The two materials were different, that much was obvious. The copper was too soft. The sword needed to be thicker…
Damn.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
I finished the bronze blades and started to forge the steel. Now that I worked the different metals back-to-back, it was obvious. What a noob mistake I made. That's the problem with growing in skill without the knowledge and wisdom only time can bring. Copper was softer so the sword needed to be thicker. Bronze still needed weight behind the swing but a steel sword could be made thin and elegant because the metal was stronger.
What about Adamantite, which wouldn't bend unless a Herculean force was applied directly on the blade? It could have the sharpest edge possible and still retain its form without bending. With that in mind, I took another ingot of blue iron and worked on it, without using my tails to multi-task this time. I wanted to focus on the process, follow my instincts and make the best blade I could.
> Grandmaster's Patience
>
> Beginner's Luck
>
> Detailed Crafting
>
> Song of Stone and Steel
Humming a tune I picked while working the forges in Vugh Tarim, I went slowly, hammering the flaws in the blade like a mother caressing her infant, if the caress was a blow with a heavy implement and the baby was made of metal. Thin. Sharp. This blade would make justice to Adamantite's reputation of slicing anything like butter. A bout of inspiration made me place a mesh of living silk between the folds of the metal. I earned a constant (and usually too small) trickle of Exp as {Progenitor Matriarch} and {Royal Exp Tithe} took its tithe from the people grinding in the mini-Dungeons scattered around the underground cavern. This time, this trickle was all I needed as it allowed the silk mesh to gain some levels. Following the intent I placed on it, the silk first bought Perks to resist the hardening process without dying.
The thinner blade meant I could add more length without compromising balance. It would be the bastardest bastard sword, light enough to be swung with one hand. It would require some skill as inertia along the length would still make the blade a bit unwieldy but not enough to input a penalty. The wielder would need to learn how to use it properly. I lengthened the tang, thinking of a longer hilt to counterbalance the blade.
Several hours, maybe a full day later, I inspected the blade for any flaws. Finding none, I took it to the oven to harden. While it hardened, I gave a good polish on the sixty-something blades I made for Helger's challenge. Then I started to carve wood to make the hilt and hammer metal to craft the guard and pommels.
The two dwarves found me assembling the blades.
"I see you've been busy," Helger remarked as he counted the blades on shadowy shelves around me, barely hiding his mirth.
I poked my tongue at him and grinned. "Indeed, father. I'm waiting for the adamantite to finish hardening," I wagged a thumb at the hardening oven. Then I waved a hand around to show the weapons he asked me to make. "Are these weapons to your liking?"
"Mass-produced. Soulless chunks of metal," Helger scoffed as he picked the weapons one by one, examined them, and replaced them back.
"We watched you work," Baritono offered an explanation. "Ignore this irascible rascal, he's just teasing you. Did you find the insight you needed?"
"I'm waiting for the answer. It's baking." Just as I said 'baking', Helger's stomach grumbled. "Are you hungry, dad?"
I saw the faintest blush on the dwarf's face. "I could eat. Are you baking?"
I could feel the hardening process was done. The {Force Tongs} removed the blade from the hardening oven and moved it to another where it would slowly cool down. Seeing their surprised faces at the blade's length, I teased and rolled my eyes. "I don't think you want to eat Adamantite swords but be my guest."
Annoyed and a little embarrassed, he rubbed his beard, "I was thinking of something with a softer interior. Maybe with a tasty filling."
I laughed, "What about pickled plums? Something tart and zesty that would combine with a good mug of ale?"
People were easy to deal with once you knew what they wanted. Give an elf a tree to hug, something to fight against, for a centaur, a gnome his trinket to fiddle, a coin to the human, and a mug of booze to the dwarf. I started to make a spicy sweet-and-sour pickled plum pie. No recipe, just let my imagination run wild. First, I grilled onions in olive oil with roasted garlic and sesame seeds. To the sizzling vegetable mix, I added shredded bird meat (don't ask which bird), thin bell pepper strips, tiny carrot sticks, tomato cubes, a dash of nutmeg, ground black peppers, and a bit of salt. I cut the pickled plums into strips and set them aside to add later. I put some water in the pan and covered it to let the ingredients simmer and get to know each other for a bit.
The dough was standard pie dough. I covered the tin with a generous layer of dough and filled it with beans to weigh it down, then baked it. Seeing that the two dwarves were already on their third mug, I put some dough strips on a tray and sprinkled some coarse salt on top, adding it to another oven to get them some appetizers to munch on while the pie baked. While the dough was steady on its journey to solid golden goodness, I cut some spearmint and basil leaves and kneaded them with the filling along with the slices of pickled plum. The pie was covered with crisscrossing strips of dough over which I brushed battered egg yolks to give it a nice color. Now it just needed to go back in the oven.
It seemed that the System considered anything that had dough and went into an oven to be the province of the [Baker]. Maybe I should try to make some pizza later. I stole some dough strips from the platter in front of my father as Baritono poured me some ale. Of the pie, we were left with the memories and a sense of longing minutes after it left the oven. All three of us could drink boiling water with just minor discomfort.
"Oh, Guardian Goddess of Windemere, that was divine," Helger rubbed his belly as he commented on the pie.
"Why, thank you, father!" I pushed on his shoulder. "Should we check on my sword now?"
It was already cool enough to get out. The blade's cross-section was a very slim and wide lozenge, without a fuller groove because it didn't need it. Unfortunately, the {Living Silk} died during the hardening process.
> Dead Adamantite Thinblade
>
> Price: 127 kingmetal coins.
>
> Damage: 13d10 +27
>
> Durability: 40,000 / Hardness: 200
>
> Ignores 40% of the target's physical defenses.
>
> A failed attempt at creating a living Adamantite weapon, the blade contains a mesh of living silk that was starved by the metal and burned by the heat inside its core. It is still a deadly weapon, though difficult to master.
The System gave me 2 points in [Metalsmith] and a hint as to why the living silk died. The Adamantite sucked the MP out of the mesh, leaving it with nothing to heal as it cooked, trapped inside the metal.