Master Smith Under Ministry of National Defense

Master Smith Under Ministry of National Defense

165 – Hellish Special Training

 

The Awakeners who had enrolled in Icarus as production-type trainees, inspired by Myung-jun, were initially filled with a strong resolve to overcome any training and hardship. However, their strong will began to crumble when they actually started learning the ‘manual crafting’ method that Myung-jun spoke of.

Unlike the previous processing methods that relied on system guides to provide all the details—such as how to process the material, the heating timing, and how many times to strike and reheat it—Myung-jun’s method required them to use their knowledge, tactile sense, sight, hearing, and sometimes even smell. This method was far beyond the ‘hardships’ they had imagined.

Especially for processing materials above Grade 6, where even the slightest mistake could ruin the material, the difficulty was such that it required the precision of a blacksmith with decades of experience. They had to judge when to remove the material from the fire just by observing its color.

“Ah, you messed up. You should have heated it a bit more before taking it out.”

Watching Myung-jun toss a material worth over 5 billion per kilogram into the trash, Reinhardt looked puzzled. He had removed the material from the furnace as soon as it reached the color Myung-jun had specified, yet it was deemed a failure.

“I took it out of the furnace as soon as it reached the color you specified. If there’s a mistake, isn’t it a problem with the recipe you provided?”

Reinhardt pointed to the printed color chart Myung-jun had given them, which he had taped next to the furnace to avoid any confusion. Myung-jun glanced at the chart and then looked back at Reinhardt.

“I also mentioned that you need to judge the timing based on the shape of the material. Most monster materials are taken from dead monsters, so the thickness and strength vary across different parts of the material. What happens if you heat thick and thin parts at the same temperature?”

“…The temperature rises differently in each part.”

“Exactly. While metals with high thermal conductivity heat evenly, the material you’re working with has such low thermal conductivity that only the parts directly touched by the flame get heated. You need to use a special furnace designed to heat the entire material evenly. Even then, you must be able to judge the internal state by observing the external color.”

Reinhardt’s mistake was removing the material based solely on its external color without ensuring the core was adequately heated. Myung-jun explained that relying solely on recipes was not a good habit.

“Processing recipes are merely guides developed from processing specific materials with particular characteristics. Just as winemaking methods vary depending on the characteristics of the grapes, a blacksmith must always consider the individual characteristics of the materials they handle. While the system assist you gained upon awakening provides a comprehensive guide, you must abandon such conveniences to process materials above your grade.”

With that, Myung-jun handed Reinhardt a new piece of material, which was even more irregular than the one he had just failed with.

“Use your eyes to see, your nose to smell, and your hands to strike while making judgments with your mind. The hotter the flame you handle, the cooler your judgment must be. That’s the fundamental attitude of a blacksmith.”

With those words, Myung-jun moved towards where Masashi Fujiwara, an Awakener blacksmith from the newly established defense company ‘Masamune Hi-Tech,’ was working. Masashi, the heir of the Fujiwara family, which had been making traditional Japanese swords for 25 generations, was already renowned for crafting Awakener swords using Grade 3 monster materials before coming here. Although his swords would be sliced like tofu if struck by one of Myung-jun’s creations, they were still considered quite impressive for non-Liberal Clan products.

Now, Masashi was attempting to craft his own Japanese sword using knowledge imparted by someone other than his father for the first time. He stared unblinkingly at the blazing furnace, determined not to make a single mistake. He was so focused on the sight of the Grade 4 material heating up in the flames that he didn’t even notice Myung-jun approaching from behind.

Suddenly, Masashi’s eyes sparkled as he swiftly pulled the metal rod welded to the material from the furnace. The red-hot mass, which had absorbed temperatures reaching 5,000 degrees like a sponge, began to emit intense flames as soon as it hit the air. Unfazed by the heat, Masashi lifted the rod and plunged it into a prepared container filled with a green liquid.

Fwoosh! –

The special solution, much more viscous than regular oil, writhed as if alive, and thick, dark green smoke billowed out, filling the area with a nauseating stench that would make any ordinary person gag. Yet, Masashi’s face was filled with joy as he inhaled the smoke. He knew that the violent reaction and foul smell were part of the ‘correct process’ Myung-jun had described.

He focused intently on the sensations at his fingertips, forgetting that Myung-jun was watching from behind.

‘Once the quenching process begins and the smell becomes nauseating, you must rely on your sense of touch rather than sight. The shell of the Grade 5 material, Abatorodon, must be struck with a special quenching solution rather than a hammer. If you immerse the material in the solution at the right temperature and timing, the viscous liquid will hammer the material thousands of times, just like a real hammer.’

Most of the recipes Myung-jun had taught him contradicted the basic principles of metalworking that Masashi had known. Some materials had to be struck after being chilled rather than heated, while others required kneading like clay with special gloves that could withstand extreme heat.

However, Masashi embraced all of Myung-jun’s teachings with enthusiasm, repeating even the successful processes multiple times until they became second nature. His perseverance and dedication were rewarded as the materials he processed transformed into substances with entirely new properties, far different from their original states.

Finally, when Masashi pulled the rod from the quenching tank, the object inside was completely different from what he had put into the furnace. It had undergone a metamorphosis, emerging as a new creation that bore the mark of his relentless effort and Myung-jun’s extraordinary guidance.

“Beautiful…”

Masashi murmured as he gazed at the semi-transparent material that now resembled black glass, despite having been extracted from a living creature’s body. It was hard to believe that this smooth, elegant object was the same material that had withstood tremendous impact just moments ago, nearly breaking Masashi’s arm.

At that moment, the voice of Myung-jun, who had become the person Masashi respected second only to his father, quietly resonated from behind him.

“Hmm… You’ve done quite well.”

“Master?!”

“I told you to call me Instructor at the academy. And I don’t take on disciples.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“Nevertheless, you’ve done an impressive job. The shell of the Abatorodon is one of the more challenging Grade 5 materials to process, and you’ve managed to do it almost perfectly. It wouldn’t have been easy to achieve this level of performance with just the basic recipe.”

“The material I received was thicker than the one you showed as a guide, so I increased the heating time and the concentration of the quenching solution. I adjusted the height of the immersion to ensure uniform processing due to the irregular shape. But, Master, what do you mean by ‘almost’ perfect? Is there an even more perfect state?”

Listening to Masashi, Myung-jun looked at the material in his hand, which had transformed into something akin to black glass. He then moved Masashi aside and took a seat in front of the furnace.

“Generally, the most perfect result is achieved by relying on the system assist for every aspect of the process—heating time, timing, quenching method, and polishing materials. However, this method only works for materials that match your grade.”

As Myung-jun turned the lever, the flames within the furnace, which Masashi had reduced, roared back to life.

“To process higher-grade materials, you must do it manually, which isn’t easy even with a recipe. The shape and characteristics of each material are different, and you have to judge the exact current temperature by eye.”

As he spoke, Myung-jun continuously adjusted the position of the material, ensuring it was directly exposed to the flames.

“Each material has a different color when it reaches the correct temperature, so you need to know what color each material should be when it’s ready to be processed. Some materials darken as they get hotter.”

“I understand.”

“When categorizing the quality of the finished material into lower, middle, and upper grades, lower-grade materials result from permissible errors within the acceptable range. If the heating temperature is slightly off or the quenching time is insufficient but still within the acceptable range, you get a lower-grade material that has the desired properties but isn’t perfect.”

Watching the material’s color change, Myung-jun continued, “Middle-grade materials are created when most conditions are met perfectly, but there are minor errors within a narrower acceptable range. If five or six out of a thousand hammer strikes lack sufficient force or if there’s a temperature difference of about 50 degrees within the heating range, you get a middle-grade material.”

“And upper-grade materials…?”

“Upper-grade materials are produced when everything is done perfectly, but there’s a minor error in just one or two hammer strikes, a few seconds off in quenching timing, or a temperature difference of just 10 degrees.”

Masashi swallowed quietly and asked, “What happens if everything is done perfectly?”

“If the craftsman not only remembers but fully understands all the conditions, can match the color differences of the material with an accuracy of 160,000 colors, and can sense and manipulate the material’s texture with the sensitivity of a mosquito landing on their skin, they can create materials that surpass upper-grade and reach the level of special-grade.”

With those words, Myung-jun swiftly pulled the metal rod from the furnace and plunged it into the quenching solution. His movements were even faster than Masashi’s, shaking the rod vigorously as he quenched the material.

Finally, as the violent reaction of the quenching solution began to subside, Myung-jun pulled the rod out. Instead of the black glass-like material that Masashi had produced, there was now a transparent material that sparkled like a diamond, devoid of any color.

“This is special-grade.”

The Awakeners participating in the class all had the same thought as they gazed at the radiant material at the end of Myung-jun’s rod. If that material were put up for auction, it would likely fetch hundreds of times its original price.

However, Myung-jun casually tossed the precious material onto the ground and handed a new piece to Masashi. Then, he shouted the word he had repeated countless times before.

“Again!”

It was a word that would continue to echo in their minds like a haunting refrain, even after they completed their training and left Icarus.