[CC] Chapter 49

The sound is different each time.

Shouren stared through the window in a daze. He couldn’t see the anvil or the hammering as the back of the smithy was obstructed by the front of the shop, but he was focused on the sound the collision of the metals made.

If it was before his experience with forging cards, Shouren wouldn’t have paid much heed, but now, he could discern the subtle changes in the sound each strike of the hammer made. The hammer made a distinct sound on every hit. Shouren was so entranced with the sounds that he didn’t notice when suddenly, the clanging on the anvil stopped.

The door opened on the side of the shop’s exterior, and a polite voice broke Shouren out of his reverie.

“The shop’s closed for the night, young sir.”

It was an old, wiry man that towered at a height of over 195 cm. He had rolled his shirtsleeves back to his elbows, revealing the tight, corded muscles on his forearms. Shouren could tell the man was older than his grandmother, but he barely had any visible wrinkles on his skin. It was the old man’s deep-set topaz eyes. That was the only sign Shouren knew that this man was old. His class card definitely had to be [Uncommon] or above to give him that younger look.

Would grandma look younger once her class card gets upgraded as well?

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Mr. Blacksmith. I was enjoying the sounds your hammer made.”

Shouren stepped back from the window and bowed respectfully to the old man. The blacksmith had shown him respect by addressing him politely despite his ragged clothes, so Shouren returned that courtesy.

“Hmm? You like my hammer’s sounds? What about it appeals to you, young sir?”

The old man readjusted the silver-rimmed spectacles on his face, a curious glint passing over his aged eyes. The man had a thin, lanky build, but Shouren could spot the chiseled muscles through the opened upper-part of his shirt. The shop’s security system alerted him that someone was touching the outside window, which made him stop and come out to check the intruder. The old man had initially seemed like he was politely gesturing for the boy to leave so he could get back to his forge, but a quiet intrigue was beginning to replace it.

Normally, youngsters would try to sing praises about the quality of his goods or talk about how they wished they had awakened a blacksmith class card instead, to squeeze some discount. However, no one had ever told the blacksmith that they liked the sounds his hammer made. It was the same sound to everyone, so why would anyone like it? Was this a new roundabout way to get a discount from him?

Shouren paused as he scratched his head. What should he tell the old man? Now that he thought of it, it did sound weird that he liked the hammer sounds.

“The hammer sounded like you were talking to the metal through it. Actually, I don’t know exactly what the differences in the sounds were, Mr. Blacksmith. But I felt like you were hitting a new part of the metal each time, and it was talking back to you as well.”

Shouren simply said what was on his mind. The hammer sounds reminded him of when he was forging his own card. He would use the lumen to shape the card’s frame and veins. In a way, he was using the lumen to ‘talk’ to the card, and modifying his strikes based on the card’s response. The blacksmith’s movements seemed similar as well.

“Have you awakened already?”

The blacksmith’s topaz eyes stared at Shouren, an unreadable expression on his face. The boy appeared young, so it was possible that he might have awakened already.

“Yes, I’m a Cardsmith, Mr. Blacksmith.”

At Shouren’s response, a tinge of regret flashed across the old man’s face before it shifted into understanding and he nodded at the young boy.

“Come inside, young sir. You can watch me while I finish my work.”

The old blacksmith then turned around and held the door open for Shouren.

The young boy didn’t hesitate and entered the shop with excitement. He still had time before Rhea would begin to worry about his whereabouts. It was a rare chance to watch another class craft in person. Most didn’t allow spectating to prevent their recipes from being leaked, however, the old blacksmith didn’t seem to mind. Was it because Shouren was just a young boy or because he knew a Cardsmith didn’t need recipes for metal?

“Woah! You can craft Lumen Weapons?”

Shouren gawked in shock at the broadsword on display atop behind the shop’s counter. The faint glowing patterns carved on the surface of the wide blade didn’t allow it to be mistaken for anything else.

“It’s just a lowly [Common] Lumen Weapon and the limit of my crafting skill, young sir. But I am happy that you can appreciate it.”

The old blacksmith’s eyes twinkled with pride as he examined the weapon. That sword was his magnum opus and the only Lumen Weapon he had ever forged. It was an enormous accomplishment for someone in this desolate village. It was why he had so many security systems in place, to prevent anyone from stealing that weapon.

“That’s so cool! You could sell it for tens of thousands of chronas!”

Shouren’s hazel eyes glazed with admiration. If he could ever forge a card of similar value, then he could live a lavish life with grandma in a city far away. Just one card would be enough to take care of all their needs.

“Chronas are not the means to everything, young sir. Come, let’s finish the metal before the forge cools down.”

The old blacksmith chuckled at the boy’s statement and gestured for Shouren to follow him to the smithy. He could tell his words hadn’t dissuaded the boy in the least.

But chronas are the best…

Shouren mumbled in his mind and quickly trailed behind the old man. He shouldn’t upset the old man who warmly invited him to his shop.

Once inside the smithy, Shouren took his time to draw all the sights in. The most obvious object in the room was the scorching forge where the waves of orange fire danced in its depths. The temperature of the room was already a few degrees higher than a few steps outside in the shop. Shouren gazed at the other tools and equipment scattered around the smithy.

“Blacksmithing isn’t about hitting the metal with the strongest force you can muster. It’s about striking the metal where it needs to be, with the precise amount of force.”

The blacksmith grabbed the slender hammer as he used the tongs to place the cooled metal back inside the forge. After seeing the molten metal, the old man took it back to the anvil and started hammering away with the thin hammer.

“I don’t like having someone watch my work, young Cardsmith. But your words sang of the beauty you find in crafting, and as a fellow man walking on the same path, I wanted to show you my journey so far. This will be the only time I make this exception, so please watch carefully.”

The old blacksmith didn’t take his eyes away from the metal as he hammered in a rhythmic sequence. His topaz eyes concentrated with emotion as the flames of the forge flickered over his irises.

Unlike combat class cards where they gained enlightenment through killing, the non combatant classes focused on unraveling the mysteries of their respective crafts. Only a fellow crafter could appreciate his work’s beauty. The boy’s eyes were free of taint when he looked at him hammering the metal.

Shouren stood still and watched silently without moving a single muscle. Now that he was close to the metal, he felt his mind drifting away with the hammer sounds.

Tang.

Tang.

Ting.

Tang.

The blacksmith didn’t speak any further and continued striking the metal.

Shouren was in a trance as he saw the molten metal morph in a different shape under each hammer hit. The Blacksmith would then turn the metal with the tongs and continue to hammer away.

Why does he hit the metal so much?

Shouren didn’t understand why the old didn’t shape the metal into a weapon’s form or something tangible yet. He simply kept turning the metal over and over again with each hit.

Sparks flew from the metal’s surface as thin scabs of dark crust flaked away to the bottom of the anvil.

Is that the waste from the metal?

Shouren’s mind jolted at the idea. The blacksmith wasn’t trying to make a weapon yet since the metal was still full of impurities. Before he could use it, the waste had to be hammered out.

At each hammer’s strike, a small amount of the dark waste crumbled away. It was difficult to work with metal when it was contaminated with hidden waste. If the old man molded it into a weapon at the current stage, the weapon would be too brittle and shatter at any large collision. It had to be cleaned of that impurity so it could stand resilient against any force.

Shouren’s eyes blanked out in thought as the raging orange flames flared in the background. He finally had an answer to one of his questions. He knew why his lumen threads faltered when he tried to split them multiple times.

My lumen is not pure.