Magic, steel, heavy industry

Chapter 7 The Blacksmith

The continuous rainy weather of the past few days has finally ended. Although the soil on the ground is still damp, the sky has cleared up.

Blacksmith Miles, however, was not in a good mood. Instead, he sat listlessly at the entrance of his workshop with a gloomy expression on his face.

His wife, Sarah, handed him a loaf of bread. "Darling, Father has written again."

Miles is only 35 years old this year, in his prime. His wife Sarah is one year younger than him, but she looks a bit old. As one of the few blacksmiths in Anvil Territory, Miles' skills are no worse than those old guys. Therefore, among all the free people, their family's living conditions are considered very good.

He took the bread his wife handed him and took a bite, somewhat absentmindedly.

"What did the letter say?"

"Father wants us to return to Liuyin City."

"I knew it. That old man just wouldn't admit my thoughts." Miles clenched the bread in his hand in frustration.

"Miles, whatever decision you make, I will support you, but this winter is going to be especially tough. Should we stay in Anvil Territory?" Sarah comforted her with some concern.

Miles thought for a moment, then sighed helplessly. "We'll see. More than that, the lord's instructions are what's giving me the biggest headache. Doesn't that young man know that Ironclad's blacksmithing technology is already excellent enough? What exactly is he trying to do?"

Just last night, Llorente found him and gave him a bottle of Grey Goblin Powder.

When Miles learned that the new lord wanted him to add a powder called "magic powder" when forging iron, he was puzzled and somewhat angry.

What does a nobleman know about forging iron?

Doesn't he know that forging iron involves removing impurities? Why would he let himself add impurities to it?

That's utterly incomprehensible.

But Miles dared not disobey. Even though he was a free man, in the eyes of the noble lord, he was only one level above the serfs.

"Sigh, I hope he won't smash up our workshop after seeing the finished product full of impurities."

"My dear, I don't think there's anything to worry about. I was there when the lord gave his speech yesterday. He's a very easy-going person, quite different from the nobles we've met before."

"Ha, nobles, what difference can there be?"

Miles shook his head, seemingly dismissive of his wife's words.

Despite his complaints, he had no choice but to accept the job. After a quick preparation, the two of them immediately lit the forge.

Although Miles didn't think the lord's wild ideas were of any use, he became extremely serious when he got to work, putting his full attention into every step.

First, the already forged wrought iron is taken out, then heated in the furnace. Only when the wrought iron becomes completely red-hot does Miles take it out and begin forging.

At this step, however, he frowned and poured some of the magic powder directly onto it.

Surprisingly, the magic powder penetrated directly into the red-hot wrought iron, which made Miles even more nervous.

With no other option, he had to grit his teeth and continue forging until the afternoon, when an ordinary short knife was finally quenched and formed.

"May the god of iron laws bless you, and may this sword not disappoint the lord too much."

Miles took a deep breath and went to the open space where he was testing his knife. His wife, Sarah, had already set up a heavy wooden block.

"Relax, darling, I believe in your skills," Sarah comforted her.

Miles glanced gratefully at his wife, then nodded, and with his right hand holding the knife, chopped hard at the wooden stump.

With a "bang," a crisp sound rang out first, followed by the blade sinking into the wooden block and making a cut.

Miles was not surprised by this, after all, he had a lot of experience in forging iron, and even if some impurities were mixed in, it wouldn't have much of an impact.

"With this level of sharpness, that lord must be..." Miles said, habitually checking the blade, then his expression clearly showed doubt. "Wait, the blade isn't damaged at all?"

He felt something was wrong. After thinking for a moment, he aimed at the wooden block again and chopped at it with all his might, striking it several times in a row.

The wooden stump was suddenly covered with cuts, each one perfectly clean, quite different from the marks left by an axe.

Only when he was drenched in sweat did Miles examine the blade again, only to find that the edge remained unchanged.

Miles' eyes widened, and he suddenly became excited. "Sarah, bring me that longsword from the shelf!"

"Darling...you're crazy...that was your masterpiece..."

"It's okay, I want to try!"

"it is good."

Sarah nodded and took a longsword from the shelf, the signboard of the blacksmith's workshop, to prove his ability to forge weapons.

Sarah didn't ask any questions and tacitly fixed the longsword to the test stand. Miles waved for Sarah to step back a bit, then used all his strength to slash down fiercely.

A crisper sound followed, and by the time Sarah realized what was happening, she saw a jagged gash on Miles's prized longsword.

Conversely, Miles' right hand trembled; disregarding his heartache, he examined the blade again.

This time, the blade was indeed damaged, with a small curl appearing.

But compared to the almost ruined longsword, this damage is nothing.

Miles immediately looked at Sarah excitedly, "Honey, do you still have that magic powder?"

Sarah nodded subconsciously, "There's still more than half left..."

"I need to forge another knife, you'll help me, right?" Miles' voice trembled even more, tinged with an unprecedented excitement.

……

"This blacksmith named Miles... he's really... ridiculous. Who would chop blades together like that on the battlefield?"

In the lord's study, Vilan ate dinner while listening to Llorente report on the progress of the iron experiments. When he heard something interesting, he couldn't help but smile wryly.

All six iron smelting workshops completed the forging experiment. Although the results differed due to the different amounts of magic powder used, they all generally proved one point.

The magic dust from gray goblins can indeed enchant ironware.

Llorente smiled and said, "Congratulations, Lord Vilan. Magic powder can indeed greatly increase the hardness and toughness of iron."

Igris, who was holding a plate and dressed in a gardener's uniform, looked very conflicted when she heard this.

Unexpectedly, Vilan's experiment was actually successful. Could that magical talent, which is almost like a curse, really have such a miraculous effect?

If that thing called magic powder can make ordinary people enchant, then what is the point of our existence as magicians?

"Miss Gardener, what are you thinking about?" Vilan wiped his mouth with a clean white handkerchief and suddenly looked up at Igris.

The latter seemed to have his thoughts read, and turned his head away in a flustered manner, saying, "I wasn't thinking anything..."

"It seems our Miss Gardener is frightened. Relax, this is just the beginning."

Vilan stood up and walked straight out of the study. "Alright, dinner time is over, Mr. Advisor. Let's go meet those excellent blacksmiths."