Chapter 411: 412. Hammer Time

The sound of hammering echoed throughout the city. There was something about the sound, as if tuning forks were dueling, letting out emotion at every strike. Ambition, determination, desire… all of those echoed from the noise as if the hammer was made of them.

Confused, Dallion continued along the road. People chatted away on either side of him, ignoring the sound as if it didn’t exist.

Why can’t they hear it? Dallion wondered.

The further Dallion went, the fewer people there seemed to be. By the time he reached the forge, the neighborhood was virtually deserted.

Where did all the people go? Dallion asked a few tiles.

Even the tiles didn’t respond. Looking closer, Dallion saw that the tiles had no guardians within them… nothing around him did. And yet, he was sure that things had been different yesterday. The forge had been full of guardians, most of them just as mouthy as their owners.

Gleam, Nox, get ready. Dallion walked inside.

All the apprentices and journeymen were gone. Even Alabaster was missing. One single person was working, hammering away at a large piece of red-hot metal in the fat part of the forge. Dallion felt deep unease, but also an unexplained sense of familiarity.

“Always late to the party,” the person said, not pausing to turn around or stop his work. Looking at him, he had an average build, and from what Dallion could tell was roughly the same age as him.

“I was busy.” Dallion felt the need to defend himself.

“Busy saving the city.” The other laughed. “You come up with the best excuses.”

Dallion didn’t agree with that. If anything, saving Nerosal wasn’t an excuse. It was what happened. And he had saved it, or at the very least, played a crucial role in saving it. Still, he went closer, stopping a few steps from the man.

From this distance, he could see his features clearly. The man looked a lot like Kraisten when he was young. No… he didn’t look like him… the man was Kraisten.

“What are you making?” Dallion asked.

The chunk of metal was far larger than necessary, almost the same size as the anvil itself. The shape was largely deformed, but Dallion somehow knew that it was the local province.

“Forging Wetie,” Kraisten replied. “I’ve been at this for a while, but each time I almost get it right, something comes up and messes it up for me. Take it from me, never forge a province—it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

I’ll keep that in mind, Dallion thought. He had no desire to forge a province, or even a city.

“So, what mess are you going to start today?” Kraisten asked.

“I was thinking of making a hammer,” Dallion replied.

“It’s about time. You should have had your own ages ago.”

“I told you I had other things on my mind.”

“I know, I know. You had to save the world. That’s why you’ll never amount to anything. You lack focus and ambition. Still, it’s your life. Who am I to tell you what’s right?”

“I’ll make an all-metal hammer,” Dallion said louder, as if volume would prove how right he was.

“A hammer to end all hammers?” Kraisten glanced over his shoulder. As he did, part of the “province” twisted off the main block, like a corkscrew. “I’ve heard that before. Lots have tried to make it, few actually succeeded. I think I have one lying about somewhere. Want it? It’ll be faster than making your own. Besides, mine’s already tested.” He pointed at the wall behind Dallion.

There, among the other instruments, was a small metal hammer. It didn’t look special at all. Rather, it looked like a sharp-edged metal cube. Using his forging skill, Dallion could see that it was made of a perfectly measured alloy of all basic and awakened metals. Unlike Dallion’s design, this hammer didn’t rely on its shape, but rather its composition.

“I prefer having my own,” Dallion said.

“Your choice.” Kraisten returned to forging the province. “You can never go wrong with metal. If things don’t work out the first time, you can always reforge them later. Make something you’re comfortable with. Once you do, you’ll see I was right all along.”

“If you say so.” Every fiber of Dallion’s body disagreed. There was no way that Kraisten was right. If he were, that would mean that—

“Dal!” a sharp female voice sounded, shattering all reality.

Next thing Dallion knew, he was in bed, gripping the pilot lightly with both hands.

“Pillows cost a lot in this world,” the gorgon reminded.

Dallion looked down and released his grip. Moments later, Euryale took it from his hands and placed it back on the bed. That was the thing about her—always perfectly calm. There were times that Dallion missed her initial flintiness, although he acknowledged they had moved to a new stage in their relationship. Also, it wasn’t completely gone.

“Dream from your world?” she asked.

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“Local nightmare,” Dallion replied. “I got advice from someone on how to forge my hammer.”

“Was it any good?”

“No,” Dallion lied. “He wanted me to make an alloy of all metals, normal and magical.”

“That’s an odd one. I’ve heard that it’s been done in the empire. The alloy, not the hammer. They say it’s invulnerable, but I have my doubts.” The gorgon went to the other room and finished putting on her light armor. Judging by her clothes, Dallion could tell that she had been called to do something for the overseer again. Her putting on armor meant that it wasn’t going to be hazard free. “I’ll try to catch you at the forge before evening,” she said. “Unless you’re off somewhere else.”

“No, I’ll be there.” Though maybe after increasing another level. Forging gear was a must, but since he was going to increase his body, it was going to benefit his work. “Take care.”

The gorgon chucked, then left the workshop, leaving Dallion alone with the guardians.

You’re the only one she lets tell her that, the guardian of the building said.

I’ve earned it, Dallion replied, then got up to start the morning.

In this particular case, morning was closer to noon. Thing back, last night had been a bit of a blur. He remembered going to an inn with Alabaster. He remembered insisting he’d only have a few quick drinks… and then Eury had joined in, bringing a quick end to his best laid plans. Still, taking a moment or two to destress was always a good thing.

After finishing his biological needs, Dallion washed up, got dressed, and quickly rushed to the forge. On the way, he passed by Hannah’s inn to grab some food. The innkeeper grumbled that she was going to start charging him, but let him pass through the kitchen nonetheless. The funny thing was that Dallion had been leaving a few gold coins each time he returned from a hunt.

Once at the forge, Dallion didn’t enter the main building, but went to the back, where his personal room workshop waited. The lock let him in with a kind greeting, and didn’t forget to mention that Alabaster had stocked up on coal and wood. That only left Dallion to actually start the fire, and since he was going to shape sky silver, it was going to have to be quite hot. That was another reason why only awakened worked with those metals. In order to reach the desired temperature, several shifts of blacksmiths had to work on the bellows for a few days. An awakened could do the same in a few hours.

As time trickled on, monotony slowly took hold. While the first half hour Dallion was excited thinking of what he’d do with his hammer to be, his enthusiasm quickly evaporated. It was at that point that he noticed that Nil had been remarkably quiet until now.

Nil, everything okay? Dallion asked.

Sometimes it’s better for one not to say anything at all, the echo said in surprisingly stern fashion.

Why? What happened?

I’ve had a bit more time to look at your hammer design…

But I haven’t shown it to anyone, yet.

Gen gave me the details. And let me tell you, both of us are concerned regarding the usability of the… thing in question.

That didn’t sound too good. However, Dallion found it more concerning that one of his echoes had shared his thoughts regarding something he hadn’t yet constructed. Maybe he was going to take a leaf from Euryale’s book and start wearing a blocker ring more often.

Innovation has always been difficult to accept…

Innovation? Nil was on the verge of shouting. Your hammer is triangular! How in the world would that be well balanced? Or even remotely comfortable. You’ll need to become a chainling only to hold that thing. And the weight distribution… Seriously, sometimes I think you avoid reading scrolls just to spite me.

Nil, I’ve already been through all the forging materials in the library… You were there for Moons’ sake.

Apparently, you didn’t read them well enough! the echo snapped. Putting quicksilver in a hammer would make it unyielding. It’ll be safer to put the hammer on the ground and use the anvil to strike the metal into shape!

Internally, Dallion sighed. On the one hand he was glad that his echoes were concerned about him to such a degree. Listening to them was like listening to criticism coming from two extremely good friends. However, Nil—and by the sound of things Gen as well—failed to see the obvious. That was to be expected, of course. Nil had never had the empathy stat, and Gen had been created way before Dallion had acquired it. Everything they said was perfectly logical and would have made perfect sense, if it weren’t for one thing: Dallion was going to rely on the hammer to help him while forging. That was why he had gone through the trouble of spending a fortune on high grade mercury last night. The metal was far less toxic than on Earth—although the fumes still caused sickness—used primarily for complex mechanisms. As far as Dallion was aware, no one used the material for weapons and with good reason: a mercury core served no benefit while only weakening the overall item. Sky silver, however, took care of that problem. Extremely hard and durable, it was going to safely contain the liquid metal without compromising the integrity of the hammer. More importantly, the intricate waver-like latticework that Dallion was planning on making, was going to allow the mercury to flow almost chaotically within the hammer’s entire head; and, of course, thanks to Dallion’s empathy stat, he was going to ensure that the randomness was no randomness at all.

It'll be fine, Dallion said. Thanks for the concern, though.

I know what you’re trying to do, but if there ever was such an art, it has been long lost.

Dallion only smiled and kept on working the bellows. The truth was that he’d a chat with Aspan on this topic right before going to the forge. If there was anyone who understood how fluids worked, it was a copyette. It was a pity that only Dallion had any memory of the real events that took place in the kitchen. Even after the events at the arena, Aspan preferred to keep his existence secret.

Sometimes you just have to trust me, Dallion said, whipping the sweat off his face.

That, dear boy, is what concerns me the most. Each time you’ve said that, things have either ended in absolute failure or something worse. While I encourage you to think out of the box, sometimes you think way out there…

The work went on. When the temperature had reached the right point, Dallion melted down all the sky silver he had—not a large amount by far. While that took place, he focused on making a mold of the shape from waxؙ—with all the minute details—then placed into a wooden crate of ash-sand.

Then came the complicated bit. The pouring of the metal in the cast was considered the moment when an item guardian came into being. There were several theories on the topic—Nil had tried to explain them in some detail—but the bottom line was that, for a predominantly metal item, this was regarded as the moment of birth. In order for Dallion’s plan to work, the guardian had to help with its own formation, which meant the first instructions had to be given simultaneously before and during the realm was being created.

Here goes nothing, Dallion said, and split into twenty instances.

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