Once Mark felt that the sword was satisfied with the patterns on both sides of the blade, he systematically grabbed the crucible that contained his new alloy with some crucible tongs.

This part of the technique needed to be done over sand so he could collect any residual parts of the alloy that leaked out of the blade while it cooled enough to be worked on.

He first laid the sword on the sand and then sprinkled a bonding catalyst in the cracks. It had to be a very fine layer or it could mess up the process, but Mark was well-practiced in this sub-step so there were no problems.

Next, he carefully poured a bit less than half of the liquid alloy into the spiderweb indentations, mindful of not spilling any of it. He placed the crucible back on the coals and studied the liquid that had begun solidifying.

There were a few tale tale signs that he had learned over the years that indicated a successful bonding and it seemed like everything was going just fine.

Once the alloy was no longer a liquid but a malleable semi-solid, he started to hammer it into the blade to complete the bonding process. This part of the technique was the longest so he allowed himself to get lost in the sounds of the hammering and soon he was in his own world, allowing the spirit of the sword to guide his next move.

Ping. Ping. Ding.

Each strike of the hammer pulled him further into his craft. He had no thoughts and only moved on instinct, hitting the places that felt like they needed to be hit. Whatever part of the sword called to him was where his hammer struck and with each strike of the hammer, he imparted a part of himself into the sword.

Mark had no idea that he was doing this, he was in a trance that few blacksmiths ever experienced in their lives yet Mark would slip into this trance every time he was working his craft.

As he hammered the sword, the alloy began to bond with the old metal harmoniously.

Ping. Ding. Ping.

Soon, it was hard to tell where the old metal ended and where the new metal began. Only when the sword cooled and the red glow gave way to the true colors of the sword would it be obvious.

But it was not time for the sword to cool yet.

Ding. Ding. Ping.

While lost in his craft, Mark did not notice the white light that was emitted from each strike of his hammer. Once again, this mysterious light kept the blade at the perfect temperature as he spent over an hour just on this step, on the first side of the blade.

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After each strike of the hammer, just as the white light cleared and the blade could be seen, very faint symbols could briefly be seen on the blade. This was also something that Mark did not notice as he truly became one with the sword as his body moved on its own. The symbols were so faint that the color could not be discerned if someone were watching him, yet no one else was at the forge with Mark to see them anyway.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Once again, visions of a battlefield were superimposed over his eyes as the cries of metal on metal filled his ears. He could smell blood and fear as he hammered away at his sword, yet it seemed only to empower him.

While he felt empowered by his own bloodlust, it seemed that the sword also had a thirst for blood as it resonated with the feelings of its master. The red-hot blade seemed to also glow a red color that was closer to blood than hot metal in hue.

As it seemed like something was going to happen with the blade, the sound of hammer on steel made the odd sound that could bring Mark out of his trance.

Ping. Ding. Dink!

Whatever the blade was trying to do, it was evidently not time yet. The blade had returned to normal by the time Mark was seeing it again and there was not a trace of the mysterious white light.

Mark observed the blade for a while and noticed it had begun to cool. Since he needed it to be red-hot for the bonding process, he put it back in the coals of the forge to let it get back to its peak glow.

Mark watched the sword heat up for a while but then turned his attention to the crucible without allowing himself to fall into a trance again. The sword would be ready soon and attempting to decipher the secrets of the flames would be a futile effort at this point.

The crucible still had more than half of the alloy within it which would be more than enough to finish this part of the refinement process which would set him up for the next time he would work on the blade.

He wanted to practice the final form of his inheritance tonight, but as he looked out at the tops of the mountain peaks that he could see above his storage area, Mark noticed that it was later than he thought it would be.

It was already dark out, which meant that he would only have enough time to finish his current step in refining this sword. It was not too much of a letdown, he knew that it was more important to perfect every step rather than rush to try a new thing. He could always practice the fifth step on the mundane objects that needed crafting or refinement during working hours.

As he actually thought about it, he figured that it would actually be best to practice this final form before actually using it on his pet project. While his smithing technique did allow him to fix any mistakes in the crafting process, he only had a limited amount of the purple ore and it was rare to find it when he went out to gather more iron and aluminum.

"Looks like the second half of the sword is ready."

Mark noticed that the sword was telling him it was ready with the signature glow it always had when it was able to be worked on effectively.

Once again, he pulled it out and placed it on the anvil with the unfilled spiderweb pattern facing up.

He sprinkled the catalyst powder into the cracks perfectly and grabbed the crucible with its tongs and began meticulously filling the cracks with the alloy.

Mark's eyes began to glow as he soon lost himself in his craft once again.