Chapter 57: Forging Solutions
Haku shrank back into his normal form, his black fur dotted with tiny, white specks, he glanced up at Darius with concern. "Is everything okay, Big Brother?"
Darius strode toward the array at the center of the sparring field, rubbing his arm with a distracted air. "Yes, it's just that damn fish again," he muttered.
Confusion flickered across Haku's features as he tilted his head. "Fish?" His eyes then lit up with sudden excitement. "Did the swamp-roach hatch?!"
Nodding yes to Haku while standing inside the glowing array, Darius's tone carried a hint of frustration, "Empty."
At Darius's command, the All-Room began its transformation. The expansive field shrank as the walls closed in with a series of mechanical clicks and stone grinding against stone. Training dummies folded into the floor, and weapon racks retreated into hidden alcoves. The starlit ceiling above dimmed, the illusion fading, replaced by the simple, stark stone expanse. The array's glow at the center dimmed to a mere whisper before winking out, leaving the room in its original, bare state.
With frustration etched across his features, Darius stormed toward the sixth door, his stride purposeful. Haku trailed behind, his voice peppered with rapid-fire questions, his tone rising with each one. "When did he hatch? It's a he, right? Not that I'd mind a little sister, but I'd prefer a brother. Ooh, is he strong? Did you teach him a cultivation technique yet?" Each question tumbled over the next, his curiosity barely contained as he tried to keep pace with Darius's brisk walk.
"Two weeks ago. Swamp-Roaches are asexual, so neither. No, it's weak. And no, I haven't taught it anything. And stop acting like we've added a family member; I've told you, it's a weapon." Darius's words were clipped, each sentence punctuated with a hint of irritation.
He grasped the door handle firmly, flinging it open with a forceful swing and striding through.
Haku's excitement dimmed under Darius's clouded mood, yet curiosity flickered in his eyes. "What's the problem, big brother?"
"We'll find out."
As they stepped into the bright expanse of the Beast-Farm, the lush green fields unfolding under a vast sky, sounds of rushing water enveloping them. Haku, nose twitching, bounded ahead, his keen senses guiding him toward the hatchery.
Darius trailed behind, his expression strained with concern. 'This can't continue. If I don't do something, I'll only hold him back, he's already stronger than me.'
Eventually reaching the hatchery, he peered into the pit, his eyes glowing with a mix of surprise and disbelief. "This has to be some kind of sick joke."
Inside the water, the newly hatched swamp-roach swam lazily, its three-meter length marked by pale white scales and sharp mandibles, standing out in the dark waters. What truly captured Darius's attention, however, was the unexpected sight of a clutch of eggs settled at the bottom of the hatchery.
"You can see why I summoned you," came a new voice, almost mechanical, cutting through the silence.
Startled, Haku jumped back, his fur bristling. He stared, bewildered, as two figures resembling Darius now stood by the water's edge.
"It's just an illusion Haku, created with a portion of my memories, don't embarrass yourself," rolling his eyes Darius focused back into the water's, "all you have to do is focus with at least one of your senses and you'll easily see the truth, now, how has the imprinting been going."
Embarrassment washed over Haku as he realized his earlier reaction. Focusing on his sense of smell, he detected no scent from the illusion before him. When he sharpened his sight, small differences became apparent—details not perfectly matching the original.
Maintaining a steady tone, the illusion responded flatly, "Horrible. I will elaborate from the beginning, as your companion appears unaware of the situation, correct?"
"Yes, continue."
"As you are already aware, when the swamp-roach hatched, I attempted to imprint on it immediately. However, the beast ignored me, swimming past and began consuming the mana within the skeleton you left behind."
Haku edged closer, cautious around the illusion, "How big was it?"
The illusion shifted slightly, "It?"
"The swamp-roach, how big was it when it was born?"
"Approximately this size," the simulated Darius indicated, spacing his hands about 20 centimeters apart.
"Little brother grew that much in two weeks?! Impressive!" Haku nodded in approval.
"So there's still been no progress since then?" Darius asked.
"None," the illusion replied flatly. "After it exhausted the mana in the skeleton, it has ignored all attempts at interaction, relentlessly seeking more food."
Darius sighed, his expression darkening with concern. "I feared this might happen. The formation required at least a basic level of intelligence to function. It seems hoping for its intellect to develop as it grew was futile. Now that it's fully grown, this array serves no purpose."
With a dismissive gesture, Darius dispelled the illusion of himself, which shattered into fading motes of light. Haku leapt through them, landing with a satisfied smirk, pretending he had vanquished the illusion himself.
"Stage one roaches are just too dim-witted, even by beast standards."
"Hey!"
Darius paused, contemplating. "It seems I'll need to explore other methods to tame it. I would have preferred using the array, but this world harbors beast-tamers and numerous taming techniques, since I don't have to worry about imprinting at birth, even a basic binding iron could suffice...or maybe."
Darius pulled a bone shard from his pouch and flung it into the water. "Time for some swimming lessons, I think."
Haku's grin faded as he watched the swamp-roach circle the sinking bone. "Huh? Wait, what do you mean? And what about swimming?"
"I'm off to the study; I'll be trying my hand at some blacksmithing. It's been a long while since I've felt the heat of a forge," Darius said, his face reflecting a touch of nostalgia as he started walking away.
"Blacksmithing? What's that got to do with me swimming?" Haku trotted after him, his tone laced with confusion.
Darius halted abruptly, his thoughts distant, "We can't let those eggs hatch, I dont have the time nor the resources to raise hundreds of Swamp-Roaches, so I need you to dive down and collect them."
"But, big brother! That fall earlier really did a number on my ribs. I need to rest a bit before I try swimming," Haku protested, exaggerating a wince with each step.
Turning to face Haku, Darius said flatly, "Or, you could start refining your bones instead. It might take months, but I'm impressed, Haku. Embracing the pain of cultivation truly shows you're beginning to mature." Turning away, he continued walking, "I'll set up a sound barrier, just in case. I still need to be able to cultivate, even if you're screaming."
"I'll get the eggs! If that's all you wanted. Clearly, this situation takes priority over my selfish desire to grow," Haku declared, turning confidently back towards the hatchery.
Smiling and shaking his head, Darius called out, "Just don't hurt the roach, Haku. I doubt it'll be happy when you get in there, but think of it as establishing the hierarchy."
Freezing mid-stride, Haku sighed deeply. 'Why must I go in the water? Do I have gills? Am I a fish?' With a frustrated swipe at the ground, he continued his slow trek towards the water and the eggs.
As Darius walked out of the Beast-Farm, a quiet determination settled over him. "The Elemental Forge Matrix didn't take with the swamp-roach as I'd hoped." His stride firm, he looked ahead, his thoughts clear and focused. "I'll refine the matrix further, once it reaches the second layer i can use it for combat instead."
Darius entered the All-Room, his footsteps echoing slightly as he firmly shut the door to the Beast-Farm behind him, leaving Haku to his "training" with the swamp-roach.
He moved towards the third door. With a steady hand, he pushed it open, stepping into the subdued quiet of the smaller library.
This chamber housed the Valdenes' personal collection—a treasure trove of skill scrolls, spell books, personal journals and trinkets collected over generations. His gaze immediately fell on the elaborate map of Gaia that dominated one wall, its detailed markings and notes a reflection of his family's long history of exploration and conquest.
Darius muttered to himself as he approached the large desk cluttered with piles of books and scattered papers in the center of the study. "Now, where is it?" His hands moved methodically, flipping through texts and shifting stacks aside, his search precise and focused.
The musty scent of old wood mingled with the crisp bite of aged paper. Each rustle of the pages released faint whispers of ink, while the occasional thud of a heavy tome disturbed the air, sending hints of binding oils drifting through the study.
As Darius rifled through the scattered piles, his hand paused, fingertips brushing against the cool metal of a dark chain. He pulled, and a weighty tome emerged from the stack, its aged leather cover creaking as he lifted it. "Found it, Kaegan's journal."
Darius flipped open the heavy cover of Kaegan Valdene's journal, the pages whispering secrets of a past era. Kaegan, a Tier 5 Silver Knight renowned for his mastery over the earth element, had been celebrated as one of the finest blacksmiths ever to bear the Valdene name. A few years prior, Darius had only skimmed these pages, but now, his intent was different. With focused eyes and a settled determination, he began to pore over the detailed accounts, each word alive with Kaegan's legendary skill and the legacy he left behind in the art of forging.
Darius's eyes danced with excitement as he poured over Kaegan Valdene's journal, but the initial thrill quickly soured to frustration. "They wield mana yet forge like mere mortals," he scoffed, flipping through the pages. "The smiths here use their magic simply to hasten the mundane, ease the labor, or at best, embed spells into their creations with rudimentary carved arrays or by setting crystals—barely scratching the surface of forgings true potential."
He compared it disdainfully to the sophisticated craft from Penglai, where blacksmiths didn't just forge but orchestrated elements. There, a smith might coax the breath of dragons into the fold of metals or bind the echo of thunder into the core of a sword, each creation not merely an item but a culmination of natural laws and celestial whims. "Here, they are playing in sand while Penglai smiths sculpt with the stars," Darius concluded, his voice a blend of disdain and nostalgia as he closed the journal with a snap.
Darius sighed, his fingers drumming on the journal's cover. "There are higher techniques, of course," he murmured, his gaze distant. "But those secrets are zealously guarded by the towers, derived mainly from primordial artifacts like my gauntlet."
"So be it. Given my cultivation limits, I can't blacksmith as they do in Penglai. I'll rely on brute strength and technique instead." Darius pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer, dipped his quill in ink, and started to sketch.
"If I combine the binding rune with the runic language etched on my skeleton..." he murmured, his hand moving deliberately as he began to outline a circular, intricate diagram on the paper. His focus was absolute, each line drawn with meticulous care, weaving together ancient symbols into a new, potent configuration.
Darius leaned back, eyes tracing the lines he'd begun to draw. "This rune wont be just for binding—it's for tethering a beast not just to a wielder's will but to an object, a means to store it." His thoughts drifted toward the combination of techniques he'd observed.
Drawing from both the complex runic arrays of the beast-farm and the enchanted treasures of his past life, he envisioned a novel device. "If the storage method from Penglai could be merged with Gaia's elemental magic," he pondered aloud, "I could forge a containment that binds the creature physically and spiritually."
With renewed vigor, he sketched more furiously, the design growing ever more complex. He pictured a small, robust artifact, perhaps a pendant or a bracelet, embedded with his newly designed rune, capable of summoning or storing the beast at will. The concept was ambitious for Darius, a novice at the craft, blending profound mysticism with practical utility, a true fusion of his vast knowledge spanning worlds.
Hours passed until triumphantly, Darius set his quill down, leaning back to scrutinize the elaborate array diagram he had completed. "This will utilize the new system of Origin," he mused, his voice low but clear in the quiet room. "A precise balance of each element will be essential during the crafting to activate each node of the array properly."
He eyed the detailed sketch, noting the complexity of the engraving that would be required. "Given the intricacy of this array and the scale at which I'll have to work, the engraving process will be particularly challenging," he acknowledged, contemplating the size of the accessory he planned to craft.
The item would need to be small yet capable of holding such a detailed magical imprint—a task that would test the limits of his blacksmithing skills as they stood.
Darius glanced down at the pouch at his side, a thoughtful expression settling across his features. "If I use the same materials for storage pouches..." he began, his voice trailing off as he envisioned the possibilities. He considered the leather from the pit-hog, a mana-beast famed for its ability to consume vast quantities, its stomach almost a dimension of its own. Mages had long since discovered that, when subjected to certain enchantments, the hide of the pit-hog could mimic this spacious trait.
"If I incorporate a mini elemental nexus array and embed shards from high-grade mana crystals," he continued, plotting out the mechanics in his mind, "it could provide a self-sustaining energy source. This would not only power the binding rune but also maintain an optimal environment within the accessory, ensuring that whatever beast was bound would have its needs perpetually met." The idea of crafting such a device sparked a renewed sense of purpose in Darius, as he considered the intricate balance of elements and energy it would require.
Darius stood and stored the diagram into his pouch with a touch. He muttered to himself, "Let's see what I have to work with." Exiting the study, he crossed through the familiar expanse of the All-Room. Each step brought him closer to the resources he needed. He approached the second door confidently, the Resource Room, with a swift movement, he pulled it open.
The resource room, modest in floor space but vast in vertical scale, confronted him with a staggering display of compartments. Doors of varying dimensions, from the minute to the massive, stretched endlessly upward, adorning every inch of the high walls. As he entered, the pungent aroma of countless materials assaulted his senses, nearly overwhelming him. At the heart of this organized chaos, a lone table stood sentinel, a solitary book resting upon it, seemingly waiting.
He marched straight to the memory tome, laying his hand on the open page. "Pit-Hog leather," he muttered.
The pages of the tome fluttered on their own, halting to reveal slowly forming letters. "H-34 Pit-Hog Leather—30 hides of 1st grade, 12 hides of 2nd grade, half a hide of 3rd grade," they spelled out.
"Only half a hide?" He frowned, scanning the entry again. "Third grades are huge, but that's barely enough to work with when I'm bound to make mistakes. I'll train on the lower grades before I touch the third." Pausing, he pondered the next step. "Now, for the body—what metal to use?" His mind raced through the vast array of ores on Gaia, a planet rich in minerals.
A slow smile spread across his face as he placed his hand firmly back on the tome. "Starwood," he declared with quiet certainty.
The pages of the tome stirred once more, turning briskly until they settled on a specific entry. The page glowed faintly, highlighting the text, "T-56 Starwood, 17 bars."
Starwood, a hard to find and unique resource native to the deeper forests of Gaia, possessed the qualities of both wood and metal. Unlike traditional timber, Starwood trees melted under intense heat, able to be forged and tempered to enhance its innate flexibility. We'll known for its ability to act as a conduit, Starwood could channel any type of mana directed through it, specializing in no particular element. Intriguingly, it held no mana of its own, a blank slate, making it the perfect general-use material for crafting.
Eager to gather the required materials, Darius grabbed the ladder sliding along the room's circular track. He methodically pulled items from both compartments, intent on returning whatever he didn't use. A pile began to form at the center of the room: Heavy bars of Starwood with its silvery-green color that shimmered almost liquid under the light, and the pit-hog hides, their rugged, marbled textures ranging from knee-high first grades to the half hide of the cart-sized third grade.
With his supplies stored, Darius left the resource room. Now standing within the central array of the All-Room. He paused, the air thick with anticipation, and uttered, "Smithy."