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Jigane ga deru | The Steel Appears

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With the Imperial City's construction well underway, the Heika seemed to have more time to exploring his city as it was built. At least while he wasn't away. In this time he not only learned the city's rising structures as they were built from the ground up, but also the persons involved with it's construction directly. He dared not discriminate between those that were to be permanent residents and those whom were just helping to build. All persons here were of similar value. However, there seemed to be one poorly treated guest among them that had slowly been discovered as a potential diamond in the rough. Rumor among the varying staff had it that there was a certain blacksmith being fooled with and made the fool of. Koji was a monster, a creature of darkness and chaos, though that did not translate to him as acting in consistent unfavorable manner. He firmly believed it was true that true chaos could not be controlled, though feign control was always a relative exercise living his sort of life. There was always a right and a wrong time for something, and in the case of building his city, it was wrong to abuse the help. Koji wanted no efforts spared in this endeavor, and if his workers were to be so poorly treated consistently within the work sites, it left greater room for err in his inevitable finished product. 

As a result of the few spread reports between this case and few others, Koji himself pulled the offending individuals and allowed them each a swift and clean execution. This was not something made public, though surely the absence of trouble makers would raise the question of what exactly happened. This carried Koji with double purpose to find one of the victims personally. Tobruk. Not only did Koji want to offer a formal apology along with some reassurance, but he also wished to ask the man for his favor in a job that would weigh as much as this city as a whole if not more. Any respective sovereign was nothing without a good sword to compliment his status. As tradition would dictate, it was only proper for Koji to acquire a sword prior to, or at the latest upon completion of his beautiful city that would be known as Jigoku no toshi. The Inferno City. If the rumors were true, and Tobruk really was a gifted blacksmith, Koji would elect him to do the job of brandishing a sword fit for his rule.

Upon reaching Tobruk's current, immediate work area, the Emperor's escort pointed out which of the men was the one the Heika was interested in. For a moment, Koji simply observed the man with a keen eye. He absorbed his features best he could in order to gauge what he thought the man's worth was as a blacksmith. With a nod of approval, the escort left Koji's side and approached Tobruk. When close enough, the Yokai halted and called the man's name, only to pause long enough to find his gaze before finishing his words.

"Tobruk...The Emperor wishes to have word with you in private."


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Clang. Clang. Clang.

Sparks coming from impact illuminated the dim space of a smithery. All windows and door were closed shut, so not a single sun ray could fall throughout burnt air. The only source of light was the furnace, fading and then again blazing bright with each bellows press. Behind the anvil a tall, muscular man was swinging his hammer at the heated metal piece, giving it the desired shape. He was alone in this dark room, and his thoughts were even darker.

Several months have passed after Tobruk had been put into a conflict with the demon quartermaster. A devastating blow in the head was everything he could remember - a significant bruise across the left part of his face hidden behind the bandana was quite a mark to be left. The other details could be remembered only in tiny fractions of his messed-up mind. An axe in his hand. His scream. The scream of something inhuman. A tall figure of a pale man...

Yes. Tobruk remembered the pale man. His long, soft face was the first thing the blacksmith saw when he woke up in this very house that soon became his personal forge. The man noted, with the voice carrying the notes both of amusement and disappointment, that the blacksmith "got off lightly with his little outburst" and "it would be better if he stays here for a while and doesn't peek out". Since then, the world have been isolated from Tobruk. Or rather he isolated himself from the world that happened to be far more cruel than Bofrak the dwarf described.

As the condition of hard-earned truce between Tobruk and his authority, he spend the entirety of a day inside the stuffy forge, making orders sent from quartermaster by a courier. Orders varied from simple tools - hatchets, shovels, axes - to a certain pieces of militia equipment. Needless to say, Tobruk was making a darn good job making formidable tools that helped make progress in city construction. Even being practically a prisoner and never knowing about being one, a tribal blacksmith never strayed from his calling. Nevertheless, the demon quartermaster took all the credit for himself, while Tobruk mostly stayed in the shadow of his own forge. At his shorts breaks he stayed away from the people of his kind - those unlucky fellows who sought the fortune at devil's den - and watched after those with higher ranks. He noticed a frightening pattern: the closer those "people" were to the emperor, the less "human" they were seemed to be...

However, not a single thought of escaping had visited Tobruk's head. Not because he did not feared for his life. Not even because he wasn't yet aware of his dwarven mentor whereabouts. But because there was still work to be done.

Lately there weren't any additional orders for quartermaster, so Tobruk dedicated himself to making more tools - just to consider newcomers. The camp was filled with rumors about series of executions. Fed up with high death rate among workers, they said, the ever-present emperor had ordered to behead several "hot-heads". Some people mentioned that the sadistic quartermaster was on the list too - a scent of sulfur from his tent hadn't been coming for a day or two. Yet, as usual, the gossip passed near Tobruk's lair, not bothering even to slip inside.

He was still standing, refining the raw parts, deeply focused on his work. Even with the door opened and escort's shadow appeared before his sight, the blacksmith did not react - neither on the appearance of a intruder nor on the voice.

"Tell your Emperor that his pickaxes should be ready within two hours." - he spoke roughly, with his throat dried after spending hours near the furnace. He expected the visitor to leave him be: after all, the world needed master's craft, not the master himself.


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Chijono Heika watched intently as the man worked. His servant relayed the message, only to be rejected by Tobruk. Looking back to the Emperor, he awaited further instruct. Koji simply signaled the man to refrain from any other action. Slowly the Emperor walked towards Tobruk himself. As he approached his gaze never left the man, even as he informed his crony,

"Leave us."

He stated the words plainly with no clear emotion behind them. His tone was simple and neutral, nothing more. Koji came to stop roughly three feet behind Tobruk, only to linger silently until the area was ultimately clear around them. Noting the environment over all, Tobruk was by no means the fastest smith he had seen, though the keen eye to detail was worth the minute wait it appeared. While he couldn't outright identify what it was, there was something about the blacksmith that Koji admired. Perhaps if nothing else, it was his impressionable spirit. Ultimately, he couldn't blame him. Tobruk had been mistreated practically since his arrival in the country. While this was known, Koji failed to allow it to be a good enough excuse to defy his absolute Will. However, he too would refrain from delivering retribution upon Tobruk for denying his hailing call. 


He began, his baritone voice carried with it a moderate rasp that made his voice the frightful thing it was despite its plain existence. For him to actually look at the Emperor, he might find himself surprised that such a bit voice belong to an un-matching face.

"Are you the one the winds whispers call Magmahide? "

He broke the ice with a confirmation of what little he managed to dig up on the man. Though the way he obtained such information remained all but clear.

"They tell me you are a proud man, a superb hunter of beasts hailing from a village forgotten by the powers that be. I am deeply sorry that my short reach could not spare your home."

Withough any indication eluding to such, he lied through his fanged teeth. He didn't even know they existed, and even if he did, it just so happened that he was apart of the nightmare they called Whispernight. In fact, there was rumor of a cult started in his honor. One that hailed him as the Messiah of the scourge. Though this occult society was lucrative enough to maintain its life in the shadows. To know of it was to be a part of it, and only by being a part of it would the inner knowledge and beliefs of its existence be shared. Both written and unwritten. Still, he continued forth with the running charade of liberator and savior of those forgotten to the scourge, and abandoned outside the walls of the larger cities. Left to die as the wealthy and greedy hid in their temporary safety. This was the basis of the very ideal of who and what Koji was, and why he felt the need to do as he must.

"This is why I have began to rally my forces and assert myself as the reigning sovereign in these foreign lands. I was once slighted by the greed of these sorts of peoples. You see, I stand to liberate all! To undue the shackles of the fallacy of Order, placed only to the benefit of those greedy enough to control the ignorant and powerless masses, sacrificing them for one's own desires to be met. This is the reason I seek you on this day Tobruk. I wish first to apologize for the late quartermaster's behaviors. Rest assured that his transgressions have not gone without notice, likewise that his ilk will never be a burden to you again. I sincerely hope that his actions do not harshly reflect upon my rule."

Begrudgingly he first tempted Tobruk's favor with humility and apology. Though it was obvious that he too wanted something of Tobruk. While he wasn't hesitant to ask him for his favor, Koji wished to have the man's full attention first if nothing else. As he did with most anyone, he attempted to appeal to man in kind nature, asking for his Will to be fulfilled with hopes that the easy route would indeed be the only route as prescribed. Though if Tobruk were to act outside of his favor, it shouldn't come to much surprise of how the Emperor would likely react. Judging by what he has done thus far in his short history, the quartermaster didn't even hold a candle compared to the greatness of the nations sovereign.


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As the unwanted visitor had left the forge, Tobruk continued to work on the tool piece. Inside this prison he sought solace in such a trivial work, even though he questioned whether it was worth it. After all, he had never got to know if his craft would do any good to people. By people he meant those strangers, peasants and servants who were seeking for fortune and opportunity to serve the noble cause... and found nothing but misery and monstrosity. Just like Tobruk...

The blacksmith shook off his head annoyingly - his sense of discipline could not allow him to bother himself with such derailing thoughts. Not during the work. He grumbled and kept hitting the metal piece. Tobruk got so fixated on this, he didn't noticed that another figure appeared behind him. Once he did, he spoke, not even bothering to turn back: "I said the pickaxes will be ready within two hours. Now get out!"

In response, the blacksmith heard a deep vibrating voice, full of energy and imperiousness: "Are you the one the winds whispers call Magmahide? "

The hammer had been falling down onto the deformed piece while those words were spoken. And just like that, it stopped a few inches above surface, the hand holding it was slightly trembling. Tobruk felt a slight fever overcoming his body.

Magmahide... That was the name he hadn't heard for far too long.

Tobruk turned back slowly and saw a tall black-haired man in the attire he had never seen before. Unlike the pale man he knew, this man was relatively young and more lively. However, there was no sincerity and recklessness of youth behind those bright red eyes. Only pure ambition and intimidation brimmed from them. Tobruk was assuming it was one of the emperor's closest people - just like the pale man. But the more he listened to the stranger's voice, the more he felt that powerful aura around him, the closer he was to the understanding that this man was the emperor himself.

The "hunter from the forgotten village" didn't know much about the authorities and royalties of outside world. The only person that might be treated as an authority would be a village elder - a retired hunter who harnessed both power and wisdom to guide the people. About kings and emperors Tobruk could recall a few things told by the dwarf - they are "ruling and stuff" and probably "smell weird". However, the person before him was much more than he was supposed to be. Indeed, how an average "emperor" would know about his past and his fate?

...And yet, the blacksmith couldn't find enough will to answer the emperor's generosity. He was supposed to thank the emperor for getting rid of the monstrous quartermaster, for setting him free! But he felt that those benevolent intentions the man were brought with him were just a screen, which covered something that Tobruk could not understand.

At last, the blacksmith had broken the silence. He spoke slowly, carefully picking the words from his developing vocabulary. 

"I know nothing neither about the Order, nor about your cause. But you should know: after I've lost my family, I heeded your call to join your... nation, as you call it. I wished to find my place in this world, but... This was not what I've expected. To see the beasts walking among the people..."

Tobruk raised his head, making eye contact - one on two - with the emperor. "You claim to set the people free from whatever holds them, but you seek the help from a simple blacksmith. Was that a true reason of yours to come here? To tell me all about your cause that is unknown to me?

Because I sense you are the man that walks many paths, not knowing which one is truly his."

Edited by P.N.See

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Koji chuckled shortly after the man's words. He meant not to mock him, for the laugh was a true and jovial one. Koji was a man of gaining conviction. He was a man on a single path, and it was one that he would walk regardless of how many followed. While his followers passed well into the tens of millions over all, or nearly rather, he himself cared none the less. Though there was one thing that he cared passionately for. The one passion among the few is precisely what had delivered him to the Tobruk here and now.

"All. I claim to liberate all, not just people. It is mankind that established the fallacy of order, deifying it with their false idols. Humans are just as much a disease to all existence, as we are to the humans. It's a turbulent and prejudice cycle that must be broken. Only by redefining order can correct this course, and lead us to a true symbiotic paradise. What man speaks of as altruism is not lost to sentient creatures, regardless of status on the food chain or preferred pallet. Sure the Quartermaster was more than unfair with you, but he could have just drank you dry if he so wished to. He could have killed you even, but instead, he obeyed. He obeyed all the way up until he transgressed on your behalf. Thus why he was made the example of, along with several others. You are right to surmise that I walk many paths because I already disagree with the one predetermined for me, though I walk it none the less out of necessity. That same necessity brings me to you here and now."

Koji paused as he began to pace about the room, taking a closer look at the crucible at large. His eyes then caught the flame and for a split second, he could see it. A glimpse of the future, wrought with dancing flames as the sound of silence struck a dying world. His eyes shifted to Tobruk once more, his eyes narrowing as his grin was lost completely to a blank canvas. The only apparent emotion to be seen was in those passionate eyes of his.

"The price is heavy, for this. The seed must be utterly destroyed before it is allowed to blossom into a thriving, strongly rooted tree. This task will not come without sacrifice...Without lives lost. I must fight the good fight, and earn what is right. I must fight three wars at once. The ones of macrocosm relative to this world, microcosm of this Empire, and most importantly, the war of self. While my request does nothing to help the latter, it is an absolute necessity for the other two."

He returned to Tobruk, closer. Their chests nearly touched as he looked the man in the eye and continued.

"Tradition dictates that a Emperor is nothing without the perfect sword by his side. I'm sure in the recent months, I have notably been seen time and time again without one. Now that my Empire is finally being forged into fruition, I have the growing need for just that. I have designs and supplies for such, and yet I find myself lacking the most important ingredient...A blacksmith."


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Tobruk didn't find what to say. Everything the Emperor was saying was against his nature. The blacksmith wanted to live in harmony with the world, catering one's needs while upholding the balance. The Emperor, on the other hand, wants to overthrow this balance and build his own world of his own choosing. It was obvious those two men inside the forge wouldn't stray from their paths. So where would be the junction where their interest might coincide?

As the Emperor continued sharing his vision on the world, Tobruk observed carefully his visitor's movement, his stature, his voice. Definitely, he was a complete opposite of a village elder, which was an epitome of humbleness. Ambition, selfishness, pride - there were some of those traits old teachers used to take out from the minds of young hotheads who were putting their desires above people's well-being. This particular man in Tobruk's mind had raised them to the absolute. Yet what was truly alarming is that the emperor spoke about humans rather aloof, as if he denied his humanity while being "human".

That induced a confusion that rendered Tobruk speechless. In his mind there were only two kind of creature: those of his own kind and those who are not. So who was the emperor?

Only when Koji's vision crossed with Tobruk's, only then he had found the answer.

The emperor gazed back at Tobruk with his clear ruby-colored eyes. His eye pupils weren't round, as one might expect from a mundane human, but rather narrowed and flattened from the sides. They were more like... reptile ones. It could be a mere hallucination, a careless assumption induced by a forge miasma. But Tobruk's mind was clear as ever,  so was his vision.

He was staring at the eyes of a dragon. A creature with the viciousness of a man and the bloodlust of a beast - that was what stood before the paralyzed blacksmith.  

...When you meet with a beast eye to eye, this is where your skills would be put to the test...

Tobruk heard a familiar voice - his voice - echoing from the long past where he used to educate young hunters.

...Dragons are quite intelligent. They won't charge at you - they will observe you, measure you, whether you would be a meal or a threat to them. At such time, do not rush. Observe it as well, watch its every step. It makes a move - you make a move. Misstep - and you're done for...


"...I find myself lacking the most important ingredient...A blacksmith."

So, the Beast King needs a sword. Tobruk rarely made any weapon that has the purpose other than hunting: swords back then were used for training or occasional self-defense. But it was too late. The dragon made its move. Time for Magmahide to make his.

"And you've found him." - He stood up slowly before the Emperor, overmatching him by height. - "There is a custom that every hunter is granted by a tool that serves as a continuation of his body and mind. Each tool contains the story of its bearer, holds his power and his weaknesses... And what story would your blade tell me, Emperor?"


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The Heika remained silent for the moment as he stared into the eyes of Tobruk. He honestly weighed his thoughts prior to forming them into speech. There was no telling if the Blacksmith would accept his words, or agree with them. Though it seemed the man was already prepared to play ball with him so long as such was deemed a necessity. 

"My blade would tell you a story of balance. Of hubris and humility, of hate and compassion, life and death....A tale of chaos and supreme order, light and dark. Twilight. Most importantly, it would tell a story of pain and suffering, but also of liberation and redemption. This story is not a simple one, nor easy to digest, but this story is one of truth. Certainly if you look beyond the tribulations that were wrongfully placed upon you from the slain swine that deign himself worthy of dictating my affect as he saw fit, then you can see the story being told on your own. While I admit I am a severe in act, I must also remind you of the vengeance given to you by my hands, thus showing just how merciful I can be in the same instance. Just as a blade is an extension of it's wielder and their story, I also believe that the blacksmith themselves are also found to have created weapons as extensions of themselves."

He paused for a moment, continuing to idle before he licked his lips and continued.

"Perhaps you think I might be prepared to ask you what story you would tell in my blade, regardless of my own opinion, though simply by looking at the items you've already crafted in this crucible and the close attention paid to detail and quality. I can infer from your work that you are a man of pride and honor, a man of tradition. A man of certainty and confidence, of humbleness and righteousness. These are the very reasons why I am drawn to you for my request, you are the only one I can imagine contracting for such a delicate request. Anybody can work metal into a blade, though only those rare gems such as yourself can actually work the definition of a blade into said blade."

Tobruk was larger than the Heika himself, perhaps in height and weight. Though his eyes told Koji that him being bigger was not enough to deign him the fool that thought he had an advantage should the need arise. Even without the dogs of the Empire standing guard for miles upon miles from this exact location, This monster wearing the skin of man was something that none should trifle with, and only few could withstand such an act. While he could gauge that the man was smart and unwilling to compromise himself, he also found his curiosity peaked in the fact that he could also tell that Tobruk harbored no fear in the face of this abomination standing before him, even while surrounded by a much more vast see of monsters.


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It seemed like an eternity had passed in Tobruk’s mind, even though it was a matter of a few minutes before he could respond. And yet, the pause was more than necessary. He kept his sole eye on the Emperor, pondered every word spoken, every gesture made, every fleeting thought sparked in his eyes. Tobruk couldn’t help but notice he would do the same.

At first, the blacksmith felt content that his point of view was highly acknowledged - as well as his wits and skills. Although an ambivalent feeling creeped over him. The darkened chamber of the forge was promising him safety, but the entire atmosphere outside was screaming danger. He was blessed by the Emperor’s grace – and cursed to be his slave at the same time. There were simply feelings that were out of Tobruk’s world, where everything was clear and simple – days were bright, nights were dark.

The blacksmith felt again the ever present gaze of the dragon. The struggle between them was not over yet. The emperor was expecting the answer – only one true answer. Preferably the positive one.

Tobruk slightly nodded toward Koji and spoke: “I’ll do what I can… to make the blade worthy... of...”

“Your Majesty?” – these two words were on his mind when his throat dried up before he could finish the sentence. He coughed loudly, averting his gaze from the man-beast before him.

“Majesty”. This word alien for Tobruk’s “tribe” tongue was induced by the pale man, the emperor’s right hand (one of the many, to be precise), who gave a lot of nonsensical advices about “speaking with the Lord”. Even then the blacksmith understood the meaning of that word being spoken.


By ancestors’ restless spirits! Tobruk the Magmahide, the village’s pride and might, the bane of all the winged beasts that roams Cold Mountains, is about to bow before this abomination of a man – not even a man!

Tobruk couldn't say a word because of the inner struggle he was yet to overcome. With his cold mind he knew he had no choice and there might be a possibility to bargain in the future. Yet his heart, his barbaric soul that used to be free like a mountain wind, refused to accept this cruel reality…

Finally, the mind pacified the soul for a short time - yet enough time to regain his senses. Tobruk looked once again at the emperor, firm as ever.

"...Iron, coal, firewood." - he spoke monotonously, listing ingredients as if there wasn't the emperor or the dragon before him, but a mere apprentice that brings everything the blacksmith needs. - "A couple of wood chops and three days. I'll handle the rest. Do not disturb until then."

Anyone from his guard or court, if they were witnessing their conversation, would be utterly disgusted by Tobruk's inappropriate behavior before Koji. But Tobruk knew he would understand his primitively straightforward message.

I will make the sword for you, Beast King. The sword that will reflect your true nature. All I need are resources. And solitude, if you hope to claim my gift. 

The blacksmith had accepted the deal. It was time for the Emperor to seal it.


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He growled in twisted delight at the favorable answer Tobruk delivered, albeit an incomplete one. The man couldn't bring himself to respect Koji as a sovereign, but he would learn to in due time. His fate was one of prophecy, foretold by seers of varying sources. He would be a great and terrible Emperor yet, and his reign would be a long and painful one for many people. There was no doubt in his mind thought that his intentions were for the ultimate greater good of all. Tobruk had seen the true nature of monsters to no surprise, though he was fooled to not see that man was just as savage as monster. The difference being that man masked their true nature with a number of statistics and false order, feigning a higher sentience that any other creature that out measures them beyond compare. Man pretended to be civil, but deep down in side they were nothing less than what Koji appeared as on the outside. 

Reaching into his robes, the Heika pulled out a scroll in his Draconic hand. Setting it on one of Tobruk's tables, he made sure the man saw him leave it there. With a final glance, he made his silent exit from the room. While he knew the man wasn't foolish enough to ruin his sword, he was also sure of the precise one he wished to host as a sign of his sovereignty. The scroll entailed the details of what exactly he wanted, in  which his cronies would deliver the proper tools and ingredients needed to accomplish this particular blades greatness. He still hoped however, that Tobruk would remember the kindness the Emperor has already shown him, and the promise of continued kindness moving forward. Though the man felt trapped helplessly, he seemed to misunderstand the status he was truly in here. He could in fact leave just as easily as he had come, or so the Emperor thought as much was clear. Plenty were coming to join Koji and his budding Dynasty of their own free will, what need did he to force anyone to remain here? Hopefully, Magmahide would endure long enough to see the true greatness Koji could offer the world, and accept it for what it was. Regardless, it was still all temporary. Just like everyone and thing else including the Heika himself, eventually he would be purged from this existence. 

"I'll see in three days then."

He finally spoke while watching where he was walking away from the blacksmith. Part of him wondered how much pressure the man felt of his self placed deadline. It didn't matter, truly. Whether it took three days or three weeks, he would have his sword. 


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The much desired sound of silence was just all what the Emperor left behind.

A gust of chill wind whooshed throughout the entryway, freshening up the sizzling hot atmosphere of the field forge. Tobruk inhaled deeply, cherishing this short-lived moment of peace. Having not touched the Emperor’s scroll, he walked outside to cleanse his lungs from the oven smoke – just to fill them with it again. The resources hadn’t arrived yet, so the blacksmith had enough time to gather his thoughts.

Making a sword for the Beast King was a problem that wasn’t that easy to settle – from the psychological point of view. With a tribal mindset still strong, Tobruk had vowed to follow the certain code. There used to be an old belief back then: should master craft a tool and give it to one that’s unworthy and foul-minded, he would be forever disgraced and succumbed to the wrath of ancestors. Truth be told, there used to be such men among the villagers and Tobruk had a short talk to them. However, the monster in man’s clothing was different story. The blacksmith had no chance to refuse. He couldn’t escape either – each and every shadow in the camp could hide a spy or two keeping restless eyes onto the man the Emperor was so genuinely interested in.

Thus, Tobruk had no choice but to make a proper sword – with no right to make a mistake. They both knew – the man and the beast – that either with good will or by mild force it would be done. And many innocents would die – slain by the dragon’s hand carrying the weapon with the blacksmith’s mark on it.


Tobruk headed back inside and stepped toward the table where the scroll remained untouched. He carefully unrolled it and cast his sole eye on the suggested design.

honjoTobruk had been genuinely mesmerized by how fragile yet elegant this particular weapon seemed to him. The blades he made for polearms were rough and bulky, but sharp enough to pierce a wyvern’s hide. The blade depicted on the scroll, however, looked rather thin and curvy. Tobruk wondered how he would be able to craft such a fine tool within such short period of time. Indeed, it would be difficult to do that without proper resources. But the Emperor promised to provide all that the blacksmith required – and it didn’t seem that he would break the promise.

Despite of any outcome, the resources were yet to arrive. Not willing to waste time any longer, Tobruk got himself back to work. He tossed out the unfinished piece of metal and put firewood into a smoldering furnace.

Those pickaxes wouldn’t finish themselves after all.

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By the time Magmahide was prepared to get started working on the blade, he found his work station compromised once more as a pair of servants entered one boasted with him a scroll, blueprinting the sword's precise make that the Emperor had decided upon. The other hosting a rather heavy sack, housing several pounds worth of an incredibly rare metal from another world far from this one. Hihi'irokane, a metal known to be denser than diamond; It is also known to be incapable of dulling or rusting. Certainly it would take choice additions to the metal to compensate for things like flexibility, though surely the blacksmith could figure that out on his own. The most peculiar feature of the metal though was that it appeared to be engulfed in flames. While the metal did seem to radiate with unnatural heat, it carried not great enough threat or risk of burning anything it touched.


Silently the men left the items on the nearest empty counter space before bowing mildly in respect and exiting out from where they had entered but a moment ago. Upon inspection of the design desired, Tobruk might not change his mind on the make being over all inferior to several other options. Though even he would have to admit that for a blade of this particular design, it couldn't get much better than this. Even if he were unfamiliar with a metal so dense and with such a high melting point, he would figure it out. The Emperor doubted the man could finish by the deadline given, though he would resist thinking on it too harshly as it wasn't impossible. Three days. The clock was ticking.


Edited by Twitterpated

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