Chapter 109: Forging

“Gray, where did you go?” Layla stood at the doorway, frowning as she saw Ye Tian approaching.
“Oh, a friend came to see me. By the way, I have something I need to talk to you about,” Ye Tian replied with a smile.

“All right, I’ll speak to the head maid about it.” After hearing Ye Tian’s story, Layla couldn’t hold back her tears. “Thank you.”
Ye Tian smiled. “It’s what I should do.”
Layla wiped away her tears. “I’ll go help them prepare the rooms.”

“Don’t be in such a hurry. The head maid might not agree yet,” Ye Tian cautioned.
“Don’t worry, I’ll persuade her,” Layla said anxiously. “I can’t let such good girls end up on the streets.”
“All right. Actually, they’ll need your help settling in, and I have some things to attend to. Thanks for finishing the rest of my chores,” Ye Tian said, pointing to the broom that he’d left at the door, which Layla had already brought inside.
“Leave it to me.” The girl wiped her tears.

“By the way, could you find me some paper and a pen?” Ye Tian realized he didn’t have those in his room, and he wasn’t used to using them anyway.
“What do you need them for?” Layla asked.
“To draw,” Ye Tian replied.

That evening, Layla brought Ye Tian a pile of strange items.
“What’s this?” Ye Tian picked up something that looked like a chopstick.
“That’s a pencil, for drawing,” Layla said, setting down the rest. “Wait a moment.” She picked up a small knife and carefully sharpened it.

“There!” Layla said excitedly. “See?” She wrote a letter on a canvas.
“Amazing!” Ye Tian marveled at the “chopstick” in his hand.
“There’s more. These are colored pencils, those are for sketching, and here are paints and brushes—everything you’ll need. But, do you know how to use them?” Layla asked curiously.

“I really don’t, but I’ll take them and figure it out myself. Thank you!”
“It’s nothing, but what are you going to draw?” Layla pressed.
“It’s a secret!” Ye Tian replied with a mysterious air.

After Layla left, Ye Tian tried out the so-called pencil, but it snapped at the slightest touch. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t even sketch an outline.
“I’d better find a proper brush,” he thought.

“Wolf hair, dog hair?” Ye Tian pondered. He hadn’t seen any dogs around here, but there were plenty of wolves. “The fur on that roast would be perfect,” he mused, remembering the soft white pelt on the roast, ideally suited for making a brush.

“Layla! Layla!” Ye Tian bounded to the maids’ courtyard and called out, immediately drawing the attention of all the maids, who craned their necks to see the commotion.

“Hey! Layla’s taking a bath! What are you yelling for?” A girl stormed over and scolded him.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Angelica. You’ve gotten prettier,” Ye Tian said with a grin. “Look at that figure—everyone must be jealous.”

“Really? I am slimmer now. You have no idea how hard I worked to lose weight. Layla does nothing and still stays thin—it’s infuriating. Wait, I’m here to scold you! Why aren’t you sleeping? What are you yelling about so late?”

“Could you tell Layla for me that I need the roast back?” Ye Tian laughed. “That’s all, bye!” He turned and ran off.

“Roast? That girl’s been hiding food?” Angelica muttered, turning to go back inside.

Ye Tian lay on his bed, trying to recall how to draw an alchemy furnace. He’d seen many before, but drawing one was a challenge; he racked his brain, afraid to miss any details.

“Gray! Gray!” There was a knock at the door. Such was the imbalance between men and women: men couldn’t enter the maids’ courtyard, but anyone could walk into the men’s.
“Layla, sorry,” Ye Tian said, noticing her hair still damp. He quickly fetched a towel, draping it over her head.

“Thank you.” Layla smiled and began drying her dripping hair. “Why do you need the roast in such a hurry?”
“To pluck some fur!” Ye Tian answered. Layla instantly clutched her chest. “No way!”
“Just a little, about this much,” Ye Tian gestured.
“No! That would hurt!” Layla protested.
“It’s fine. The fur will grow back,” Ye Tian assured her. “Just give it to me. Once I’m done, you can take it back and sleep with it.”

“No! I said no!” Layla shook her head vigorously. “There’ll be a bald spot—so ugly!” She looked at Ye Tian with teary eyes. “Is it necessary? Can’t you use something else?”

“I could, but where am I supposed to get other fur?” Ye Tian sighed.
“So, you just need fur similar to Snow’s?” Layla asked.
“Yes, the softer the better,” Ye Tian replied.

“All right, I’ll get you some tomorrow, but you mustn’t pluck Snow’s fur anymore,” Layla said.
“You have some?”
“Yes, I’ll bring it tomorrow. It’s too late tonight.”

“Tomorrow’s fine. That works.” Ye Tian thought for a moment. “I’ll walk you back.”
“Thank you.” Layla returned the towel. “Is it dry?”
Ye Tian felt it—still a bit damp—and gently rubbed her hair dry. “Wet hair in the wind can make you sick.”

The girl sat quietly, letting Ye Tian help her dry her hair.
“There, that’s enough.”
Ye Tian tossed the towel onto the bed. “You’d better go. Otherwise, Angelica will come after me with a knife.”
Layla giggled. “Be careful, she just might!”

“It’s fine, I’ve got thick skin,” Ye Tian boasted shamelessly, earning a playful eye-roll from Layla.
“Gray, what are you doing with the fur? Some kind of witchcraft?”
“What are you thinking? I’m not a mage,” Ye Tian flicked her forehead. “I want to make a brush, so I need the fur from the roast.”
“Still, you can’t do that! It’ll look terrible! Don’t do it again,” Layla warned.

“Fine, I promise,” Ye Tian agreed readily. “By the way, has it shown any signs of waking up?”
“No, it’s just the same,” Layla replied, touching her chest. “I wonder how much longer it’ll sleep.”

“Let it be. The little thing is mischievous,” Ye Tian remarked.
“By the way, did you take the little eagle?”
“You have some nerve, abandoning your pet and not even feeding it. I tried several times before it ate a little.”

“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing; I happened to be there.” Layla looked down. “Gray, Michelle will be coming over tomorrow…”
“Is something wrong?” Ye Tian asked.
“No. By the way, is she pretty?”
“She’s all right, but not as pretty as you,” Ye Tian replied with a smile. “Here we are. See you tomorrow.”
“Good night.” Layla waved and went into the courtyard, and Ye Tian returned to his own quarters.

“Hey, young man, you’re here?” As Ye Tian opened the door, he heard the clang of metal from behind. Curious, he went to investigate and found Bruyer swinging his heavy hammer at an iron plate. Ye Tian watched silently as the dwarf finished hammering and quenched the metal in water. Bruyer wiped the sweat from his brow, saw Ye Tian, and greeted him with a smile.

“I’ve finished the sketch, though it’s only a rough draft. If you have questions, just ask,” Ye Tian said.
“Good!” Bruyer glanced at the iron piece in the water. “Wait a bit, let me finish hammering it a few more times.”

“Go ahead,” Ye Tian said, leaning against a pillar and watching Bruyer work. The dwarf glanced up at him, said nothing, and used large tongs to place the iron back on the anvil, hammering it with force. Ye Tian stretched his neck but didn’t speak.

After several rounds of hammering and quenching, the dwarf finally tossed the finished piece onto a rack and turned to Ye Tian. “Any problems?”

“How long since you last changed this quenching pool?” Ye Tian asked, pointing at the water.
“Why? Is there a problem?” Bruyer was puzzled.
“A big one. If the water isn’t clean, impurities will get into the steel during quenching,” Ye Tian explained.

“Nonsense! This is a technique passed down by dwarves for thousands of years. It’s not as dangerous as you think,” Bruyer laughed. “Come, see the weapon I made for you.” He produced a beautifully crafted rapier. “To be honest, I don’t like flimsy swords.”

Ye Tian drew it, feeling both impressed and frustrated. It was a fine sword—straight, with a cold, deadly edge—but not at all what he had envisioned.
“Not satisfied?” Bruyer frowned.

“It’s quite different from what I wanted,” Ye Tian said, flicking the blade so it rang. It looked flexible, but it wasn’t soft enough. “It’s not pliable enough—how am I supposed to wear it as a belt?”

“What? You want to use it as a belt?” Bruyer was shocked. “This is steel, not rope.”
“Never mind. I’ll take it anyway. Thank you.” Ye Tian prepared to keep the sword.

“No, I won’t sell a sword that doesn’t satisfy my client!” Bruyer snatched it back, then, picking up his hammer, smashed it down on the blade. Sparks flew, and the scabbard dented slightly, but the dwarf kept hammering.

“Stop, stop!” Ye Tian hurried to restrain the stubborn old dwarf.
“How about this: I’ve studied a bit of smithing. Let me try forging a sword for you, and you can judge for yourself,” Ye Tian suggested.

“All right,” Bruyer agreed, handing over the hammer.

Ye Tian rolled up his sleeves, chose a piece of iron ore from the materials, and tossed it into the forge, then looked for the bellows.

“Here!” Bruyer pressed a button, and the forge roared to life, flames leaping three feet high.
“Amazing!” Ye Tian cheered, then set the crucible in place.

“I need a bucket of clean water, the cleanest you have!” Ye Tian called.
“Got it!” Bruyer nodded, fetched a bucket brimming with water, and set it down.
Ye Tian took a sip. “That’ll do.”

The iron ore in the crucible was melting.
“Here’s a mold!” Bruyer quickly provided a sword mold. Ye Tian poured the molten iron into it.

Once the iron solidified, Ye Tian used tongs to extract the sword blank, placed it on the anvil, and wielded Bruyer’s hammer, striking hard—sparks flying.

He repeated the process, hammering, reheating, and hammering again until the metal glowed red, drawing a frown from Bruyer. Finally, Ye Tian quenched the finished blank in the clean water. Steam hissed, and he pulled it out, inspecting it before nodding.
“Here, take a look, old man.”

Bruyer took it. It looked similar to his own, but when he gave it a gentle wave, the blade undulated like a boneless snake, swaying with a soft sound.
“Impossible!” Bruyer ran his fingers along the blade, then pressed down with force—the blade bent into a perfect arc.

Letting go, the blade snapped back, supple and intact. Swiftly, the old dwarf drew another sword and struck Ye Tian’s blade with all his might. Sparks burst forth, but neither blade suffered the slightest damage.

“Incredible!” the old dwarf exclaimed, trembling with excitement. “How? Why?”

Although Ye Tian’s blade was unfinished, it was already the equal of Bruyer’s best work—a clear defeat for the old craftsman.
“The forging method is different. The key is the quenching water. If I’m not mistaken, you put something in that pool, didn’t you?” Ye Tian pointed at the basin.

“That’s right,” Bruyer nodded.