The next day peacefully arrived. Sun was not stopped in its tracks to become a king of the sky as usual.
Already in the courtyard. Zigmund sat on the ground. Reading through the pages of some documents in his hand. It was the same one from yesterday. One he gave to his daughter was a copy.
He was deep in thoughts, a frown and serious face were on him all this time. He did not get much sleep tonight, but he did not need it that much. It was not like the pair which still slept in their rooms. Zigmund could understand their feelings a little, but it still left him in a state of unrest.
Maybe from the very beginning, where he discovered the motionless deer. Certain motions began to move. He did not truly believe in fate or destiny, but as a man of many experiences, he couldn't help but assume and condemn it.
“I hope this is a safe place for the time being. That talk from yesterday left me quite wary, and all this talk about freaking the Timeless Kingdom as well... That and that. If the Tricloud alliance won't unsheathe their blades, then who will? I know how much strength they possess, yet the full-on war, for whatever reason, did not happen in this region in a very long time.”
Zigmund knew certain topics and the general outline of this situation. It reminded him a little of Allan's situation, where his home was destroyed by invasion and war. He was not willing to make his words come back to his reality.
Knowing little about it still did not help him much. He lacked the fundamental information which would be available in the military department of the Tricloud alliance which he was part of in the past. What was made to know to regular folk was far from the full truth.
“Oh well, I can seek out the Guild... that will do,” he mumbled while scratching his head.
It was easier to calm people with the clueless method of the unknown. To make them wary of a possibility was good enough for them. Zigmund knew that, and it made him nervous even more. Even his elder brother's situation was a kind of tense when they talked not long ago.
“What is going on with today's world? Is the war or conflict the best truth they all found? Game of the bloody people. Ahhhh..” Zigmund clenched his hand and hit the ground. Getting up from the frustration. He was uncertain about getting more detailed information. His retirement was not final. If they summoned him back, there was no talking back. NO! He would surely talk back, as usual. He was good at that, after all.
There was one big variable that made him the most hesitant. Allan and his little wooden friend. Since Sarey got involved, he felt remorse for sticking his hand into their problems. Yet, he still chose to help and was part of it now.
He was made aware of the world of immortal figures early on in his career in the military. Young, ambitious, and full of vigor. Although it was an age of war. It still made him awe and respect such figures. It all came down to talent, as he was made aware that he was not such a person. Even if he tried his best, he could never change himself. Fate was not kind. It only knew fairness in his eyes. Even if he knew he could change himself, now was too late.
Suddenly, he turned around. Facing him was Allan, who had woken up a bit ago. He wanted to stretch himself up with some light training, so he moved out to the backyard while being supported by his new tool.
“Is there someone?” He asked.
“Heh.” Zigmund chuckled, knowing very well that he was faking this question. Allan had a very good perception of the far surroundings. There was no way he did not hear him.
“Oh. Good morning mister Zigmund. I hope you will help me today since yesterday was not good for you.” Allan walked forth into the courtyard and stops right in front of Zigmund. He leaned on his new shaft.
Zigmund, with a glance, immediately understood and noticed his new tool. Reinforcement across both ends made it obvious that it was meant for combat. He couldn't help but sneer.
“Sure. If you are ready to use the proper weapons, it is even better.”
“Not yet. I don't want to hurt myself. This is something which won't be that easily destroyed like the last time.” Allan said, with some hope and confidence.
“Though this pole of yours looks similarly dangerous, like a sword. Even the common footsoldier knows the power of wooden weapons such as poles. I want to see if yours has enough durability or not. I will look forward to today.” Zigmund agreed and walked back inside.
Allan smirked, in a good mood. Doing some quick stretches and movement exercises, he felt very good about himself today. His sleep improved as well. Even if he felt like he did not need it that much. It left him feeling much more refreshed and with a clear mind. He could feel the movement of his upper body improve. Sore muscles were gone with a little rest.
“Is it the work of Sarey's acupoints, or my own body? Which is it?” he wondered.
In about 10 minutes of stretching with his pole, he was finished.
Walking back inside, he was greeted with a nice smell of food. Sarey was sitting across the kitchen, facing her was Zigmund, who was eating his breakfast.
Both felt a little awkward but enjoyed their breakfast, nonetheless.
After having a fulfilling meal, Allan was ready to face today's work. He already had a plan in his head. First was his forging which he planned yesterday. The second was the practice. He considered the new one, but 36 who told him to skip the wooden strikes caused the wooden strikes to be gone.
There was still 36's summoning, which he requested yesterday. Although he felt hesitant about shedding his precious blood, it was still better to talk to him than not.
Add to that Zigmund's willingness of spars and his time was all spent. He would not have another opportunity to do anything else. Not like he complains, though. Having some form of schedule is pretty damn important to get the results done. It was a style that Clayton taught him quite well.
It was all for himself, so Allan did not mind spending all of these things in a single day. He moved outside to his forgery to start with today's project. Sarey would assist him if he needed.
In a couple of hours that passed, the sharp sound of hitting a hammer spread from the small wooden building. Allan was once again in his element. The surge of heat from the furnace enveloped the pieces of metallic ingots he already reheated a few times. There were two of them, for a pair of twin swords. It was another challenge he prepared for himself. Allan learned through some interesting materials that this Tricloud region has some more differences that he previously assumed to be coincidental.
Reinforced steel is the current metal he had chosen. A type that is much stronger, and was made through the notion of something called dusting. It uses a very robust and cleansed iron that went through the heating process while adding little bits of dust from higher grades of materials. Such as grandum, mythril, mythral, and so on. The result is something similar to mixing what Allan discovered, thanks to his father.
Usually, the final results are molten ingots that could be heated up and processed afterward. Stored in chunks of varying lengths to make all kinds of weapons, since this technique used sky-high temperatures and forms to make the ingots.
Although, it is not as complicated as true mixing, and in truth, it had much weaker results. Allan has yet to discover the full potential of mixing the whole sections of high-grade metals. Though, the reinforced steel is very tough for mortal standards. Not one person on the battlefield would complain about weapons made of this material.
Watching it was Sarey from the not-so-distant window. She leaned from the window with great interest and the cold wind from outside made it much more pleasing than the heated inside of the forge.
Bang!
Bang!
Allan repeatedly hit the red metallic slug. Small red sparks flew across the air with each swing before disappearing in an instant.
He kept going, not stopping as the shape of the short swords revealed themselves after another hour. Allan worked on both slags back and forth. Like this, both of them were ready to quench. There was still a chance for failure, but Allan had no need for it. He worked within the darkness, but it all went very smoothly. He did not do it for the first time.
Both blades had small straight bodies with curved ends, which ended in very sharp points. It took him longer than expected. Allan was experimenting without his vision. He was feeling the metallic shape of the blades throughout the process of hammering. The reinforced steel made a great enemy since it is a much tougher material than his very first experiment.
Sizzling sounds spread from the cylinder-shaped barrel. Both blades fit there fine and Allan led them there for couple dozen seconds.
“Good,” Allan muttered as he pinched the edges of the blades with his elbow and pressed it against the anvil. It was a test of sturdiness and quality. The blade would snap or blow into small shards if there was a mistake in its creation. There could also be a warp or lack of a straight blade. Those, of course, meant a failure.
Fortunately, the blade stayed through to its shape, straight and without problems.
Now Allan changed his attention to something else. The reason for his excitement for today.
Laying on the side of the worktable was a dark-looking whetstone.
Allan did not forget it, nor the rest of the stuff from yesterday's operation. He kindly kept the bandanna with its two half hammers across his table. It was his father's gift, so he won't be polite of using it himself.
Finding the rough whetstone, Allan examined it for like a 20th time. He never worked with this kind of thing. The only experience he could use was his spying on his father and how he used it in countless forging Allan had seen.
Carefully pulling the edge of the dull blade at an angle, fitting for a sharp edge. Slowly and surely, he moved it closer and closer. Upon the impact, whetstone jumped a little. It felt the blade on its surface. Sparks and dust flew as Allan backed with the blade in enough time. If he left it for another moment, it would take too much of a change in its edge.
“How fierce. Do you need to be so precise with its use? Let me try again.”
A screeching sound wailed from the impact. Quite similarly to what Allan used to hear when using the sharpening station, which used momentum and motion for quick and easy work.
This whetstone seems to be very different, but much stronger and harder for some reason. It was stationary and a flat whetstone, yet Allan did not know the source of this whetstone, or its value. For all he cared about, it could be a very valuable type of material.
Allan kept the edge on it for a split second before swiping his finger across the edge. He felt the differences through touch. Human fingers are very sensitive to every mistake.
“There is still a little dent there. Probably from the initial start. I need to do this in one full move, otherwise, there will be a less mass of the blade itself.”
Figuring out the cause of the issue, he pressed the blade to the whetstone once more. And with a swing of the edge, a motion of swiftness moved the metal across whetstone's surface. It left the dust behind, which was absorbed by the whetstone. Similarly, from the time, Allan was seen in Clayton's hands.
Although it was somewhat different. Clayton had years and years of experience and he was very proficient with it. He was always firmly gripping the blade and used the right angle with each passing stroke across the whetstone. Allan did not know all the intricacies this thing provided, while every movement of his father is constantly replying in his head from his memory. He wanted to succeed, so there would be no failure.
All things considered, Allan's first attempt was actually very impressive. He knew what to look for, be it blind or not. Watching it from a close distance. Sarey was shocked upon discovering the whetstone power. She knew nothing like this existed in the town from her experience. Most likely, not even the Tricloud did not have such a thing as this.
Allan continued with quick and small swings. Removing the residual mass of the blades. After a few dozens of moves, he changed it to the other side. In a few moments, a shining blade was in his hands. It looked quite different from the previous one. It lost some mass and width. With this edge, he moved to the section he felt was much easier. The flat surface of the blade needed trimming as well, to make it shiny and nice.
“Hmmm. All things considered, this is much more efficient than the regular sharpening station. No wonder father used it. With enough practice, this could become something that will save me an uncountable amount of time.” Allan thought about this for a long time. Feeling the blade and remembering everything he did with it today in his head. There was no point in trying to make paperwork for this.
He did not want to make Sarey work that much by making her do some sketches and notes so he would don't forget it. She was not an assistant and his mind was resilient enough for the images and wonders he always had in mind.