Sovereign of Chaos

Chapter 5: Forging Top-quality Weapons

Ethan carefully poured a small pot of molten bronze and iron mixture into the mold, forming a soon-to-be-finished plow.

The people of Stone Town mainly earned their livelihoods through agriculture and animal husbandry, so iron plows were a common tool. The plows would inevitably wear and tear, and those of lesser quality would deteriorate quickly. Consequently, the demand for plows in town was high.

Casting an iron plow required less cooling time compared to weapons like swords, knives, and axes. After a short while, Ethan gently tapped the mold encasing the plow with a small hammer, freeing the newly forged tool. Only the final step of tempering remained.

"Ding!"

Ethan flicked the plow with his index finger, producing a deep, crisp sound.

"Hmm, this plow should be quite good!" A sense of joy filled Ethan's eyes.

"Huh?" Not far away, Henry had been observing everyone and quickly approached Ethan, examining the iron plow with interest.

It was a furrow plow, measuring two feet seven inches in length and nine inches in width, its surface gleaming with a dark, captivating metallic luster.

"This plow seems rather extraordinary, doesn't it?" Surprised, Henry looked at Ethan and flicked the plow before tapping it gently near the stove, listening attentively.

"Ding!"

"Clang!"

Henry, a seasoned blacksmith with over thirty years of experience, could easily gauge the quality of a weapon or tool with a mere touch and tap. In Stone Town, he was even known as the "Weapon Appraiser," a highly respected figure in the blacksmithing and forging community, with a discerning eye.

After a moment's contemplation, Henry burst into laughter. "Hahaha! A top-quality furrow plow indeed!"

"Uncle Henry, are you serious?" Ethan cocked his head, staring incredulously at the furrow plow in Henry's hand.

Indeed, a top-quality plow! Weapons and tools were typically categorized as lower, middle, or upper quality, with the latter being the best. It was rumored that above the upper tier existed spiritual tools, but Ethan had never left Stone Town nor encountered such an item there.

Henry nodded with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming as they scanned Whisker, Spike, and Steel before finally resting on Ethan's young face.

 "Even if I had poured all my effort into crafting this furrow plow, it might not necessarily be top-quality. Ethan, at merely twelve years old, already demonstrates such remarkable skill! Truly a formidable young talent!"

"Over a decade ago, your father entrusted you to me before leaving for distant lands, never to be heard from again," Henry sighed and continued, "Back then, you were just a mischievous child who once urinated on my neck while riding on my shoulders. Who could have guessed that you would become so accomplished in casting now?"

"Let bygones be bygones," Henry chuckled nostalgically, glancing at Ethan and the others before announcing, "Since Ethan has now mastered casting, his monthly wages shall be doubled from now on!"

"Wow, Ethan, you've struck gold! Double wages!" Spike's eyes widened, and his mouth hung open, wide enough to fit an egg. "I've decided to follow you!"

"Good lad! You have to treat us tonight! Mmm, I want roasted chicken!" Whisker grinned and took a step forward, hugging Ethan's arm and shaking it vigorously, resembling a child pleading with an adult for candy.

"Ah, Ethan, you've kept your skills well-hidden!" Steel laughed and pretended to punch Ethan.

Ethan quickly dodged and then lay down next to the stove, legs spread wide apart. "Ah! Ah! Steel, can't you be more gentle? It hurts so much!"

Whisker and the others paused for a moment, and then they all simultaneously recalled last month's incident when they sneaked to Li Village to peep at Widow Li. They burst into laughter.

"Shameless!"

"Naughty, but I like it!" Spike licked his lips, squinting as if savoring the memory.

Henry's lips twitched violently before he shook his head helplessly.

After the laughter subsided, everyone returned to their stations. Ethan picked up his hammer and gently broke apart the mold.

It was a knife, the first item he had cast since returning to Blue Cloud Forge. Because weapons required a longer cooling time, Ethan had precisely timed the moment to break the mold.

"Clang!"

As the mold shattered, a gleaming knife blade emerged, four feet two inches in length, four inches wide, and a finger's width in thickness.

Ethan weighed the knife in his hand – it was quite heavy, about twenty pounds – a heavy knife.

Henry, who had been watching intently, quickly took the sword and swung it through the air a few times before admiring the pristine blade, his eyes filled with approval. "What a sword! Marvelous indeed!"

"An exceptional sword, indeed!" Henry's gaze fixated on the sword, appearing almost infatuated.

Ethan was overjoyed but also taken aback. How could this be? Had his casting skills improved so significantly?

Casting was no ordinary task, requiring precise timing and control of the raw materials. Any minor difference could severely impact the quality, and crafting exceptional items was largely a matter of luck. First, he had created a superb plow, and now this outstanding sword – was his luck simply that good?

Was it due to the adjustment of raw materials? The ingredients were merely ordinary materials like bronze and iron.

"An exceptional sword is worth more than a dozen silver taels on the market! Ethan, I'm sticking with you!" declared Whisker.

"Tonight, I want double portions of roast chicken!" Whisker exclaimed.

Steel grinned and gave Ethan a thumbs-up.

After a moment of contemplation, Henry decided, "From now on, Ethan's monthly salary will be doubled again!"

Ethan felt embarrassed, wondering if he had acquired some sort of magical touch. However, his shame was mistaken by Spike and the others as pure smugness.

"Shameless!" Spike scoffed, stoking the fire in the furnace.

Although puzzled, Ethan continued working efficiently, methodically pouring the molten metal into the molds.

Due to a memorial ceremony for his grandfather, Ethan had a heavier workload today. He estimated there were twenty-six molds to cast, and he had completed just two. As he finished casting the ninth mold, the cooling time for the third was reached.

Ethan had a precise grasp of the cooling time required for each mold. Twenty-six hourglasses sat beside the casting table, corresponding to the twenty-six molds he needed to cast that day. As the last grain of sand trickled through the third hourglass, Ethan picked up his hammer.

This mold was for a sickle, with a narrow blade and sharp, menacing teeth. Intricate patterns adorned the handle.

Before Ethan could examine the finished product, Henry, who had been waiting eagerly, snatched the sickle from him.

"Uh..." Ethan scratched his head, looking hopefully at the sickle in Henry's hand. Could this one be exceptional, too?

"Huh?" Henry exclaimed in surprise, looking at the cut on his left finger. "What a sharp sickle!"

"Eh?" Henry exclaimed in surprise, staring at his left finger cut by the sickle's serrated edge. "What a sharp sickle!"

"Top-quality! Absolutely top-quality!" Henry laughed heartily. "Ethan's casting skills have truly reached perfection!"

"Boss, please take me in!" Spike stared intently at Ethan.

"Ugh!" Whisker rolled his eyes and silently held up three fingers to Ethan.

Ethan understood; Whisker wanted three portions of tonight's roast chicken!