The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 59 Hundred Refinements

Barrend himself didn't leave. He watched the roaring flames in the furnace and suddenly said,

"You lad, planning to use the method of thousand-layer forging?"

Bruto revealed an ambitious smile.

"With Lance's strength here, it would be a waste not to!"

Barrend gave his son a meaningful look and smiled. He patted Bruto's shoulder, turned around, and walked out, his words of caution floating back from his retreating figure:

"Remember to scrape it clean every time you fold it, I'll come over when it's time to quench."

Lancelot, curious, watched the conversation between the two Dwarves and asked,

"What is thousand-layer forging?"

"Thousand-layer forging is flattening the metal, then folding it, flattening it again, and continuously repeating the process."

Bruto controlled the heat to concentrate on a small segment in the middle of the sword blank, quickly heating that part to the required temperature. After clamping it out, he merely tapped it a few times with a small hammer and bent it over. He stuffed the folded sword blank back into the furnace and continued,

"One fold is two layers, two folds are four layers, three folds are eight layers. Once you fold it ten times, you've created over a thousand layers, which is why this method is called thousand-layer forging. If you feel like it, you can keep folding indefinitely, but beyond a certain number of times, it's not very meaningful."

"What's the benefit of doing this?" Lancelot carefully pulled the bellows, trying not to let the furnace temperature rise too high like the last few times.

"It greatly improves the performance of the weapon and creates beautiful patterns," shrugged Bruto. "Some seasoned blacksmiths can even form specific Arcane Runes in the pattern, bestowing powerful magic power on the weapon, but of course, I'm not at that level."

"If this method is so good, why doesn't everyone use this technique?"

"Because it's troublesome, and not everyone has the freakish strength you do," Bruto shrugged. "It would take at least a week for my old man to fold it ten times."

"We've already been working for ten days," Lancelot pointed out a harsh reality.

"That's because Cold Iron Ore is such a pain! A bit too hot, and it turns into ordinary iron!" Bruto replied irritably. "If you don't chase after repeated usability, you can pour the molten iron into a mold, fold it once or twice and start sharpening. I guess that's what they do everywhere else.

"I'm feeling very energetic right now."

"That's good, we're starting our second forging today, but first, we have to finish the last step of our first creation." Bruto stretched and walked out, "I'm going to get my old man to come over."

Barrend quickly strode in, full of energy. The old dwarf had shifted his perspective on his task, treating it as a grand project with the aim of ensuring production while improving quality as much as possible, which invigorated him all over again.

First, he checked the quenching trough next to the iron anvil—the bottom was filled with iron ore to keep it cool, and the keen-eyed Lancelot even spotted a few small pieces of cold crystals. Then he inspected the tempering furnace next to it, and he was satisfied with its condition too.

After completing these checks, Barrend praised Bruto for his preparation, then picked up the tongs and extracted the glowing white-hot sword blank from the furnace.

After overnight heating, the sword blank was incandescent, a wave of heat hitting Lancelot, making him wonder if another sword had been ruined by overtraining.

However, Barrend seemed very pleased with the condition of the sword blank, and without any hesitation, he immediately plunged the searing sword blank into the water trough set aside for quenching.

A puff of white smoke rose, but less than Lancelot had expected; it was then he realized that the liquid in the trough was not water, but oil.

In less than 5 seconds, Barrend removed the sword blank and placed it directly into the tempering furnace.

"I have a feeling this will be a good sword," the old dwarf patted Bruto's shoulder. "The tempering temperature for cold iron weapons should be a bit lower than that for ordinary iron—about thirty percent hotter than boiling water. Just be careful."

"Don't worry, dad." Bruto rubbed his hands excitedly, "Temper for an hour and a half, cool for half an hour, repeat three times, right? See, I've got it all memorized."

Barrend looked at Bruto, fell silent for a moment, and suddenly pulled his son into an embrace.

"I think I've been too harsh on you in the past." He ruffled Bruto's disheveled hair. "You're doing much better than many of your peers."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Bruto standing there, stunned.

"You alright?" Lancelot asked.

"Of course, I'm fine." Bruto turned around, and Lancelot noticed his eyes were red.

He walked over to one side, shoveled up a batch of Cold Iron Ore, and added it to the furnace.

"Let's continue, we still have five more swords waiting for us to finish."