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Hammer out, fold, hammer out, heat, hammer out, fold. For three of my free days, I spent time in the workshop trying to make a simple Damascus steel kitchen knife, but due to my inexperience, I fucked up three billets when the different layers of steel split from not being forge-welded properly.

After some trial and error, I found out that it was the strength of my aura-powered hammer strikes that was the problem. If I strike too hard on one end of the billet, flattening one side too much, the bond between the steel layers on the other end will weaken under stress and split apart. When I discovered the problem, I could only think of two solutions. Either I use less power and hammer the billet more evenly, or I use a big fucking hammer that can cover the whole billet. And seeing that I don't have a big fuck off hammer, I had to slow down and hammer away like most other blacksmiths do.

When I thought about why all the other equipment I forged back at the Royal Academy with aura-empowered strikes did not have such problems, the answer was obvious now that I looked back at it. It was mainly because they were mostly forged from single ingots of the same smelting batch, and even if I were using more than one ingot, they would be hammered down on top of each other to the point that they were homogeneous.

This time, I am still using my aura, but it is more to help me speed up my work. These forging attempts have also helped me train my control over my strength while hammering. Instead of striking with all my might, I used measured strikes with less strength to hammer out the billet as evenly as possible, getting it down to the appropriate size and shape as soon as possible so I don’t need to wait for too many rounds of heating up the billet.

Eventually, when I was happy with the knife's general profile, I ground it down to refine its shape, heat-treated it, and sharpened and polished it for a smooth finish. When all that was done, I dipped it into a metal tub of acid I bought from the alchemist.

When I removed the blade from the acid and washed it off, I looked at the wavy layered patterns on the knife blade and was happy with my first successful attempt at making a Damascus steel product.

My only gripe was that some of the waves dipped much lower than others, which showed where my hammering was uneven, but overall, it was a good knife. After I fitted a nice lacquered wooden handle, I wrapped it in a nice cloth and called it a day.

***

On the next free day, after lunch, I requested the presence of the house’s chef. Not knowing what was going on, my parents gave me a questioning look. “Was there something wrong with the food, dear?” Mum asked.

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I just waved my hand to dismiss her worry, “Nothing of the sort, Mum. I just wanted to show the chef a token of appreciation for putting up with us, waking him up way earlier than usual for the past few weeks.”

A little while later, the chef came into the dining room with a nervous expression. “You called, Young Master Luke? Was the food not to your liking?”

Once again, reassured another person that I was not unhappy with the food. “Nothing of the sort. I just wanted to give you a gift, a small token of my appreciation for the past few weeks.”

I then reached under the table to pick up a custom-made box resting on my lap and passed it to the chef. “This is the first among a new style I am smithing in. I hope it serves you well in your craft as a chef.”

The chef took the box and looked back and forth between me and the box. “Well, go ahead and open it.” I encouraged.

He opened the box and took out a German-style ten-inch chef's knife with wavy-layered patterns. As one, the chef and my parents gazed upon the knife that I made.

“Son, you made this? It's… beautiful. What magical metal did you use to get this pattern? I have never seen this before.” Dad asked.

Hearing the mention of ‘magical metal’ made the chef seize up at the mention of something so precious being used to make a simple chef’s knife.

“No, can’t be, I do not feel any mana coming from it.” Mum commented, “But there is that marking on the blade near the handle. What is that?”

“Oh, that. It is the brand stamp I came up with. At first, I wanted to stamp our house’s emblem on it, but I thought it would be a stupid idea if unscrupulous people started throwing around our family name while showing our family’s emblem. Less educated people may fall for that, and our family name would be sullied. So I came up with my own brand, Wyrm Works.” I replied.

The emblem, depicting an eastern dragon from my previous world coiled around a long sword, was stamped into the metal at the base of the knife blade.

Dad nodded. “Good call. I can imagine people coming to our gate trying to claim favors and saying that they hold our house’s ceremonial knife.” He then gave the knife another look and asked me, “So when can I get a sword that looks like that?”

“Not anytime soon. I am confident of its ability to handle tasks in the kitchen, but I am still new to this form of smithing, so I would not trust it on the battlefield as of yet.” I replied.

“True, I would rather have a reliable weapon than a pretty-looking one.” Dad said as he once again looked at the knife, “I wonder if a full plate of armor of this would look good… what was this style of smithing called?” Dad asked.

I was not about to tell them it was Damascus steel because they had no reference to Damascus, so I said, “For now… I would call it Weave Smithing. Once I get better at this, I am sure I will be able to make interesting designs, as if woven tapestry was imprinted on the sword.”

Dad nodded, “I am looking forward to it, and if you can prepare some as gifts, I know a few people who would grant us favors if we gifted this to them. It is practically a piece of art.”

Oh? Favors for pretty weapons? I can do that.