Walking into his work table, Allan found the long sword in the scabbard. One which he remembers in his hand not so long ago where he asked to touch it to see its quality.
Removing the blade itself from it, Allan moved the thumb and middle finger across the edge first. The assessment of the blade went like this. Though, without eyes, he has no other way. Master craftsmen could spot the mistakes with their eyes alone. To know if there are some problems.
Repairs of the swords were usually about the edges and the metal itself. It was less common to see the handle to be cracked or loose. Bad edge meant poor heat treatment or sharpening. Simple as that. Be it the blacksmith who was inexperienced or not good enough materials.
“Dull edge with small chops. Do you want me to repair it?” Allan asked without knowing why he came here for.
“Of course, it is you who causes this. This is my sword from the military.” Zigmund answered in agitation.
“Oh. No need to be angry.” Allan said in a calm reply. Remembering a few rude customers, this was hardly something he was not used to. Pulling out the black whetstone, he put it on his work table without dealing with Zigmund's presence. Unknown to him, Zigmund saw this thing once, when he found them that day.
Zigmund rather kept himself shut and observed what this was about.
He for sure knew nothing about this sort of sharpening tool. Though, he knew plenty of available ones since his task of getting him a workable forge made him more aware of such tools. He has never seen a whetstone do this in his life.
Pulling the sword closer with his fingers, Allan noticed a few smaller chops and a bigger one around the tip of the sword. It was folded metal, that was forced like this upon an impact of something sharper or stronger, depending on the circumstances.
When dealing with this problem, no one could be sure what caused what. Sometimes, strong blades would shatter from hitting a rock. Others would bend or shatter against other blades. Allan had a small guess of what this was about. Zigmund was angry at Sarey for using his swords.
“Is it fine if it will lose a little of its mass? It is for the re-sharpening, so I could remove the folded piece of metal. The blade itself feels normal to me. It hit a wrong opponent.”
“Whatever, I don't care too much. Solve it.” was his answer.
Allan, unbothered by his words, moved the smallest piece of its length in one motion. Like the regular sharpening of the forged blades, one must be careful and gentle when using this whetstone. He has repaired nothing on it so far. So he must be careful about it. The placement of the sword at a small angle went smoother than usual as he moved his hands one bit at a time. A few millimeters could make a drastic difference in the mass of the blade.
Swish! Screeeeech!
Zigmund was watching with his keen eyes. Seeing the edges of his sword come back to their shape as the strange sound came from the impacts. Not even a lot of mass was lost. That folded piece was gone as well. Allan pulled the sword up after a few more motions and checked it once again with his fingers.
“Impressive. What is this stone?” Zigmund tried to dig deeper.
“I guess something impressive,” Allan answered with the truth he knew.
Zigmund frowned at the answer. It could be that even Allan did not know its origin. The same way as himself.
“By the way, mister Zigmund. What about the selling of my work? Is that fine with you to talk about it now?” Allan changed the topic.
“N-now? Oh, right? I guess so.”
“I guess somewhere here is my first blade. Can you try to evaluate it so I could assume it's worth?”
“Heh, you sound like a real blacksmith now. I guess that is to be expected from the son of a blacksmithing master.” Zigmund chucked from his choice of words. Sounding like a professional was not bad at all. It only sounded weird from such a young man. Zigmund found it in no time, as he saw it before. He also noticed one particular blade in the corner.
One which piqued his interest, since it was the blade that went alongside the black whetstone. Though he knows it's not Allan's, he still tried to wield it for once.
“H-how heavy... Bloody hell, that is heavy.” he scowled in his mind. For a thin piece of metal a meter and something long in length, this had some strange balance and heaviness. He would never get used to this.
He could still move it fine, but it felt unnatural, and a few swings would cause him some trouble.
Placing it back, he went along with the blade Allan made for the first time.
“I suppose it could have some value. A few dozen silver or gold or two depending on the buyer. Do you want me to contact some merchants or some shop which could buy it from you for their own profits? The former is the fastest methods. If you want to check and find your customers, that would be much harder in your current position.” Zigmund talked about his experience within the town's business. He knew plenty about it, even if he did not want to acknowledge it himself.
Allan knew a few things himself about businesses. Clayton and his shop went through some years with plenty of opportunities for Allan to gain experience in this.
He was unsure if the monetary values of his hometown were the same as his place.
“Gold coin? How much is it worth?”
“Worth? This is already quite generous for any kind of sword. Any regular adventurer would have at least gold worth of supplies. Swords, axes, and bows are the most common. Anyone would buy their weapon for at least a few dozen silver worth of coins and repair or buy new ones once in a while.”
Allan frowned at his answer. It sounded very similar to his knowledge. Copper, silver, and gold were the general currencies used across his continent. Its history was strong and lost in the currents of time. It was almost as old as the history of the continent itself.
Allan has not seen the kinds of books that depicted deeper history. It was generally held by the royalty who run the bigger play across the lands. Reason? They knew it themselves. What reason would it give them to release knowledge from the vast history? They cared more about the current times and the future. Such are the economics of the Kingdoms and the nations.
There could also be other intentions, but Allan did not know them at the moment of his home.
If he wished for something, it would be to know if this world could even be connected to his? If the currency was the same, what about other things?
He kept thinking about it without knowing an answer or knowing any better.
Zigmund withdrew his glance from the blade. Looking at the current Allan, he was nothing like the sorry figure on the ground when he found him. He could now care less about his blindness. Allan earned his respect for his acts and work.
“Depending on your work, it could be even more. I gave you general materials that were available. If you want more expensive ones, you will have to prove more than this.”
“I have nothing to prove. Paying you back is enough.” Allan answered in honesty.
“Try to do what you want. Give me 10 blades of a different kind by the end of the 15 days. Then we can decide what sort of value they could have.”
In all honesty, Zigmund knew this blade could have much higher potential. He did know why, though. This one did not look all that impressive. What changed his outlook on this was the pair of swords wielded by Sarey.
Shocked or not by her display of skills, that did not surprise him. She was his daughter, after all. So what if it has been a few years since she hasn't been training with him? Occasional hunting confirmed that she has forgotten nothing.
If he would evaluate that pair of short swords, it would be a different story. If it was able to go against his own blade from the military, its quality was even better than he thought. What if it was not a short sword but a broadsword or at least a longer blade? It could also be caused by the design and curve he implemented. Zigmund did not know.
With the task of 10 blades, he might have a better idea about Allan's skills.
“Different kinds? Why? Isn't it easier to make swords that would sell?”
“You know what is selling or not?” Zigmund asked in the obvious taunt.
“No... There is always a need for weapons. Can you tell me the rundown of the general prices of the different weapons? From swords, knives, daggers, axes, spears, long swords, broadswords, and who knows what else is there?”
“Hmmm. Fair enough. I will tell you tomorrow.” Zigmund nodded to himself and went along with his reasoning.
No longer strolling around, Zigmund kept Allan to his own work. With his repaired sword and satisfaction, he walked away. Allan was satisfied with the results of this brief experiment.
Turning around, he returned to his own work, what he planned for today.
Outside, Zigmund stared at the blade. Examining the edge of the blade and its smooth surface with his eyes.
“Razor sharp! What an edge. It looks even better than before. Although I did not give it full attention in a while, it was still a high-quality sword. No matter what, this feels a bit better than ever.”
Zigmund marveled at the sword and struck the empty air. The sound of the slashes sounded less than he thought. It was quiet and gained more velocity with a single swing.
“There is much less stress with a slimmer body. The speed is better.”
Zigmund stopped. What if it was about to hit a human being? He thought.
Not so far away, Sarey was observing her father as she lay down on the grass. He was there for a few minutes while forgetting about her presence.
Swoosh!
Swinging the sword stronger, as if he was striking Allan from before. It cleaved the empty air in a few meters in front of him. He frowned even more. Sharpness improved quite a bit. He would not use it now in the spar again.
“Phew, at least I have some spare blades as well. This will remain hidden for now.” Zigmund decided for himself.
Walking towards his home, Sarey played as if she was sleeping. Not displaying the sight she has seen. It looked like a kid who got a new toy. Though a giggle was around the corners of her cheek.
Zigmund could not help but smile as he walked back inside.
Inside the smithy, Allan came up with some design in his head. Forming an image of a broadsword with regular length and width. He wanted to see the differences with the whetstone when used against the straight edge. The bigger twin swords would make no difference, so he chose a singular bigger kind of sword.
Using the ingots of Black Steel, which had average properties all across the board, he put them inside the furnace. Using the two of them at the same time, Allan wanted to fuse them together. Forming a better mass for the broadsword that was known for its heaviness and mass. He would not be cheap, of course.
Hours passed.
Sounds of hammering kept going, stopping on a few occasions, but otherwise kept going harder and sharper. Sarey already stopped with her rest, observing everything the same way as she used to from the safety of the window.