I held the hammer in front of me, reflecting on the short spar that we had. The metal was heated to the perfect temperature and with careful precision I placed it on the anvil.
The way that the sword blocked, millimeter precision as she found the exact place to focus her pressure.
She was not strong but as the sword approached her she was able to move with the absolute grace of a knight and deflect my attack to the ground.
I tensed my muscles and engraved that feeling into the blade, the precision and speed, the grace and dignity of a knight.
Every pound of the hammer shaped it further, reinforcing the concept of dignity upon the sword. It took shape slowly, the blonde hair and blue eyes of the knight coinciding with the blade.
A moment and once more, the blade found its way into my eye. A retaliatory strike, waiting for me to overextend and then strike.
It was a reactionary type of play, one that was filled with nothing more than the purest of swordplay. It had no deception.
I placed that too upon the sword, reflecting upon the swordplay that I had found myself facing. The mana in my veins roaring in excitement.
It mimicked the patterns that I had seen used against me. The way that she infused it into the blade, it was almost beautiful in its deadliness.
I smiled as I put the final touches on the blade, sharpening the edge and placing the hilt upon it. I breathed out for a moment before giving it to the woman in front of me.
My face was matted with sweat that had come from hours upon hours of work but it was worth it. The sword was perfect for her.
Even if it was not to her specifications I could guarantee that she would find no sword more suited to her own style.
"I just remembered, I never got your name."
"Oh- I'm Elaine, Elaine Effret"
"Mmm…" I hum, "Then Elaine, name your sword. It is yours."
[Unnamed Sword]
[A rank 2 borderline rank 3 sword made from the style of Elaine Effret. The personality, the strokes, the blocks, every part of Elaine's swordsmanship was used to match the sword to Elaine. And as such its true power will only ever reveal itself in her hands.]
…
"Fight me"
I turned around and saw Elaine pointing the sword that I had made for her at me.
"Hah?" I asked, almost dumbfounded. Did she not know that I had no sword of my own and even in our previous spar she had dominated because of that.
But it wasn't just that, I remembered those techniques, she was leagues above me and now that she had a sword personally tailored for her.
It would be more of a slaughter but…
"Fine, but not now, I don't have my own sword after all."
She nodded, before sheathing the sword and leaving.
"I'll be back tomorrow, be ready."
I couldn't help but find this exciting, if she thought that she could just win that easily then she would be mistaken.
I found myself back, melting the iron in front of me. I would make a sword that surpassed even the one that I had made for her.
Now that I had the experience making a personalized sword I could do much better. Especially for myself, someone I knew better than her.
I couldn't wait and stoked the flames with mana. It was wasteful but I was already committed.
Every moment of my life flashed before my eyes. Yet there was one moment that stood out to me more than anything.
The dream that I had had before coming to this world. This tower. Unlike others I had seen it so clearly. The sword that I coveted the most.
The perfect sword.
But I would not imitate it, no, that would do a disservice to the sword. If I just imitated then I would be no better than trash.
I needed an identity for the sword and what better than the very dreams that governed my life.
They were a constant, every waking moment of my life working towards remembering, towards creating.
I focused and as the metal heated, as I added the carbon to make it steel, I found myself imbuing the very essence of the dreams that I had.
The illusion-like force that they played, how they seemed so far yet distant. Everything important about it was placed into my mana and then subsequently the ingots.
I breathed out as I placed the scorching metal onto the anvil. It was hot enough for me to manipulate it and that was what I did.
Folding over and over, each fold creating a pocket of dreams that enhanced it. A mana that seemed so ethereal yet real.
Hours passed by as I focused solely on my task, nothing could break me from my concentration.
I had placed every memory of my dreams, up from my birth and till now into it. And it had come out stronger for it.
The shape was starting to form. It was finally coming to shape. A katana made of dreams. Of one specific one.
Of the warmth and knowledge of the being residing in my dreams. Of her guiding hands and ethereal nature. The illusion like hands that guided me.
Everything was placed into the sword.
I wrapped the handle with precision and care.
I sheathed it into a premade sheath. I would have made my own for it but I was so… so… exhausted.
I felt myself falling to the ground, a pair of hands guiding me to rest. As if telling me that I had done a good job.
That they were proud of my achievements.
I smiled as I found myself falling asleep. I had done it, with all my prowess I had made the strongest sword I could.
[En]
[A sword made by the dreams of the blacksmith. It takes its power from said dreams, the stronger the dreams of Mihr, its creator, the stronger the sword becomes. An ethereal hand placed its blessing upon the sword bestowing upon it its name En]