Chapter 59: Craft and Cultivate
Darius hunched over his desk, his hand moving swiftly across several pieces of paper, each marked with intricate diagrams.
The air was thick with the scent of ink and parchment as he outlined another segment of his creation, his focus evident in the furrow of his brow and the determined set of his jaw. Each sheet revealed part of a larger puzzle, a device born from the depths of his mind.
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Earlier, Haku had emerged from the hatchery, a wet triumphant grin on his face. To Darius's surprise, Haku had carved the arrays flawlessly on his first attempt. The successful installation and activation of the arrays now meant that the hatchery was secured.
Darius, impressed and somewhat relieved, had then reshaped the top edge of the pit, sculpting a flooded shelf of earth to serve as a feeding area. He placed a fresh supply of stage 3 beast bones there, ensuring the swamp-roach had ample nourishment.
With the hatchery's setup complete, Darius and Haku turned their attention to the next significant phase of their journey. Haku was poised to attempt his breakthrough to the second layer of the Celestial Beast Soul Mantra.
The air between them was charged with anticipation as they prepared to embark on this critical stage in Haku's cultivation.
They had settled on the Beast-Farm as the site for Haku's breakthrough attempt. Darius busied himself setting up multiple protective arrays for Haku, crafting the ideal conditions for his cultivation.
As he completed the final array, a robust barrier designed to contain the forces of Haku's breakthrough, Darius stepped back and nodded in approval. "There, now you can cultivate without worries. This array should contain any mishaps that might arise."
Haku, nerves apparent, sought a distraction. "Big Brother, how many formations do you know?"
Darius pondered briefly before replying with assured confidence, "Eight thousand eight hundred forty-five."
Haku paused, his head tilting as he considered the number. "I have no idea if that's a lot. Is that impressive?"
"To have mastered? Absolutely," Darius confirmed. "There are more I'm aware of, yet I've never put them into practice. Many are trivial—take, for instance, one designed for a teacup, meant to keep tea perfectly warm." As he spoke, Darius touched his pouch, materializing the black, smoldering bones of Shattyr.
Darius fixed his gaze on Haku, his voice steady. "Are you ready?"
Haku glanced at the remains of Shattyr and exhaled slowly. "Darius, I can wait if you need more time."
"Wait? Why would I want you to wait?" Darius's voice conveyed genuine confusion.
Haku shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I don't want you to be upset with me again."
"Upset? Haku, I'm lost here. What's this about?"
Haku inhaled deeply, the air filling his lungs as he mustered his courage. "During our spar earlier... I sensed your killing intent."
At those words, Darius stilled, a tightness coiling in his stomach.
"I know you're frustrated with your cultivation being stuck, and seeing me advance while you're not must be hard. I can wait, really, until you're ahead of me again," Haku said, his eyes filled with sincere concern. Alongside the concern, there was another emotion that struck Darius deeply—fear.
"You're right, little brother. Earlier, I did lose control for a moment," Darius acknowledged, maintaining steady eye contact. "But no, I do not want you to wait. I want you to grow as strong as you possibly can, even if that means I'm the one watching from behind. And don't worry, once I break through, you'll be the one watching my back again."
Darius watched intently as determination lit Haku's eyes. Flames, vibrant and fierce, erupted from his paws, enveloping him in a blazing cocoon. As the fire enveloped him, he grew, his size expanding until he stood three meters tall at the shoulders.
His fur, pitch black and deep as the night sky, was alive with tiny, glowing stars that drifted across his coat. Flames erupted from his front paws, the dark blue fire climbing rapidly up his legs, encircling his neck.
"We will find a resource for you," Haku declared, his voice deep and resonant, carrying through the heat waves. "Even if I have to tear down every last mage tower to find one."
Darius let out a laugh, clapping Haku firmly on the chest. "Good, good! Don't worry about me, little brother. Just focus on your cultivation."
Relieved, Haku turned, now towering over the remains of Shattyr. "Thank you, Senior." He then began to consume the bones, the sounds of cracking and crunching echoing sharply through the air.
"Once you're done, start cultivating immediately," Darius instructed, his tone firm. "I'll be watching, but in truth, you're on your own, Haku. Trust your training in moments of crisis. Don't panic, and remember—pain is fleeting."
"Don't worry—crunch—I am one hundred—crack—percent confident!"
----
Two days had passed since then. Darius paused his sketching to glance at the ice mirror mounted on the wall. "Seems he is proceeding fine," he murmured.
After leaving Haku to cultivate, Darius crafted a chest-sized pane of ice, intricately carving an array into its surface. This observation array paired with one he had left with Haku, allowed him to monitor the progress from afar.
Returning his attention to his desk, Darius began meticulously organizing his papers, examining each sketch closely.
"This is going to require precise detail work. For this to function correctly, the size and depth of the arrays must be perfect." He outlined his plan methodically, "Everything hinges on the power source—eighteen shards from a high-grade mana crystal, which will be continually recharged by overlapping Elemental Nexus Arrays."
Darius approached the forge, clutching his papers. He opened a small door at its base, reached into his pouch, and drew out a beast crystal, pulsing with deep, fiery red energy. He placed the crystal inside, then shut the door smoothly. His fingers traced the rune carved above, and with a focused whisper, he said, "Ignite."
As Darius uttered the command, the forge began to stir. The deep hum of awakening magic filled the air, vibrating softly through the smithy. The beast crystal's energy pulsed, its glow intensifying, as it breathed life into the ancient, rune-etched machinery.
The runes, each carefully designed for a specific function, flickered into visibility one by one. Temperature regulation, heat adjustment, and containment runes glowed with an ethereal light, orchestrating the forge's operations with precision.
The bricks of the forge, crafted from a unique material designed to handle extreme temperatures, absorbed the heat. Gradually, they began to emit a soft red glow, brightening the forge's surroundings with a warm light.
Darius walked over to the forge and laid his hand on the softly glowing bricks, "Still cool." The runes on the forge hummed quietly, their glow steady and inviting.
Darius paused, admiring the intricate design of the forge. Reaching to his side, he touched his pouch, summoning a bar of Starwood metal.
With a focused gaze, he crossed the room to a nearby bench where various tools lay organized. Laying his papers down and grasping a pair of tongs firmly, he turned back and stepped up to the furnace, opening the large door at its base.
As Darius swung open the furnace door, a blast of intense heat surged forward, enveloping him. The sudden rush of warmth caused his skin to tighten, almost as if the heat were physically pulling at him.
The air around him shimmered with the energy of the fire beast crystal deep within the forge, its power already manifesting as a vibrant dance of light and shadow across the walls. He stood there a moment, getting used to the furnace's fierce heat.
Darius focused on the forge's control panel, his finger hovering over the temperature adjustment rune. "This step is crucial—the melting point is 5,999 degrees," he murmured, his voice steady with concentration. With a careful touch, he dialed the temperature up to just below the critical point. Satisfied with the heat level, he decisively slid the bar of Starwood into the furnace.
Darius stood in front of the forge, his eyes fixed on the Starwood as it slowly absorbed the intense heat. Fifteen minutes ticked by, and the metal began to emit a faint red glow, barely noticeable against the bright light of the furnace. He shifted slightly, feeling the radiating heat on his face, his skin tight with the dry warmth. Darius glanced down at his gauntlet, appreciating the slight shield it provided.
After a full half-hour, Darius observed that the Starwood bar had reached its peak readiness, glowing a bright, even white, signaling it was time to proceed. Carefully, he removed the bar from the forge with his tongs and carried it swiftly to the anvil.
There, he had already placed a heavy hammer, its surface intricately etched with runes. Without hesitation, Darius began the arduous process of shaping the metal.
Spark erupted with each strike as he hammered it into a flat, long sheet, then methodically folded the bar back on itself before pounding it flat again. This folding and hammering sequence he repeated eighteen times, a technique meant to enhance the metal's strength and resilience.
As he worked, Darius noticed an intriguing feature of the mysterious anvil. Pausing between blows, he muttered to himself, "Interesting... the anvil recycles the heat right back into the metal. Saves me the hassle of reheating." This realization allowed him to focus more on the precise folding and hammering, appreciating the anvil's unique ability to sustain the bar's necessary temperature throughout the extensive forging process.
Once the metal had cooled sufficiently and lay flat in a precise sheet, Darius transferred it to his workbench. There, he deftly manipulated metal shears, cutting the sheet into a specific shape needed for his creation. After cutting, he promptly returned the shaped piece to the forge, reheating it to the optimal temperature for further manipulation.
When the metal was ready, Darius withdrew it from the heat. He positioned the heated piece over the sharper end of the anvil, selecting a smaller, more precise hammer from his collection. With measured, expert blows, he began to mold and refine the contours of the metal, shaping it into its final form.
With the metal piece shaped to his satisfaction, Darius returned it to the forge, ensuring it reached an even glow throughout.
Satisfied with the heat distribution, he carefully lifted the glowing piece with his tongs and moved swiftly to the quenching bath. He submerged the heated metal into the oil, a hiss filling the air as it cooled. Darius watched intently, searching for any sign of warping. To his relief, the piece emerged perfectly, the quenching successful.
Darius repeated this process with four additional bars of Starwood. This rhythm of creation—heat, hammer, cut, shape, and quench—continued seamlessly, keeping the pace of his work brisk and efficient as he crafted the necessary components for his project. Each piece was carefully inspected after quenching, ensuring no flaws were present before proceeding.
Once finished, Darius arranged the five precisely shaped plates on his workbench, each similar to the others in size and shape. He paused, surveying his work with a critical eye. In his mind, he mapped out the next crucial steps, realizing the intricate arrays he planned to etch into each plate. "Each piece will carry a segment of the complete array," he mused to himself. "They must align perfectly when assembled to integrate. These overlaps will essentially be forming a new, singular, combined array."
"I'll also need to strategically position the nine crystal shards. They should be placed to minimize the paths between them, ensuring efficient power flow to each node."
Darius set to work with intense focus, his eyes alight with excitement. With the papers spread out before him as guides, he carefully transferred the intricate rune designs from his unique runic language onto the metal plates. Each stroke of the chisel was precise, etching deep into the Starwood with unwavering accuracy.
Once the runes were meticulously carved into the metal, he took up a small punching tool. Methodically, he marked out positions on the plates, creating nine small indents.
Darius arranged the five completed plates carefully, stacking them precisely atop one another on the workbench. As he aligned each piece, a soft glow began to leak from the runes etched into their surfaces. With a final adjustment, the plates seemed to recognize their alignment, sinking into one another as if drawn by an unseen force. The pieces melded seamlessly, edges merging without heat or hammer, crafting themselves into a single oval piece curved to fit the contour of a person's bicep. The completed assembly shimmered with a faint light, the magical bonds solidifying into a sturdy, unified armor segment.
Darius sighed, a contented smile spreading across his face as he held up the newly forged piece of armor. "Success," he murmured, admiring the craftsmanship. The runes on the surface glowed faintly, a soft light tracing the intricate paths before gradually dimming to a subtle finish.
Satisfied with the result, he gently set the piece aside on the workbench and turned towards the leather worktable, ready to continue with the next phase of his project.
Darius tapped his pouch, and a large stage 1 Pit-Hog hide appeared on the leather worktable. As he ran his fingers over it, he thought, "I've wielded a hammer before, but leatherwork is uncharted territory for me. Good thing I have plenty of these hides for practice." With a determined nod, he prepared his tools.
Darius began by trimming the stage 1 Pit-Hog hide, cutting it to the precise dimensions required for the inner lining of his armor piece. He set about embossing patterns and runes into the hide, his initial attempts marred by uneven pressure and misaligned patterns. With each failure, he muttered to himself, "Focus, Darius. It's just like setting runes in metal, just a different medium."
After several attempts, he finally produced a piece he was satisfied with and moved on to reinforcing the edges with braided metal wire. This too proved challenging; his first few tries resulted in twisted and uneven wire placements. With a sigh of frustration, he peeled away the ruined wire, starting over with a steadier hand. "Again," he grumbled, "precision, not force."
Once he mastered the stage 1 hide, he moved on to the stage 2 hides. These were noticeably thicker and more resilient, demanding greater strength and patience to manipulate. His muscles tense under the effort, sweat beading on his brow as he worked the tougher material. "Why couldn't these just be a bit more forgiving?" he muttered, struggling to emboss the more intricate runes.
Failures mounted, each one teaching him a little more about the material's resistance and how to approach it. After several hours, he finally succeeded in preparing a satisfactory second-stage hide lining, though not without significant effort and several muttered curses.
Standing before the stage 3 hide—the only one he had—he paused, taking a deep breath. This hide was even more formidable, its texture denser and more intimidating than the previous ones. He stared at it, hands on his hips, knowing any mistake now would waste this precious resource. "This is it. You've got half a hide. Make it count."
Darius carefully trimmed a piece from the stage 3 Pit-Hog hide, laying it flat on the leather worktable. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. "Precision is key. The depth and position must be perfect," he murmured to himself.
The first piece resisted his tools, the runes barely taking shape before the material warped, ruining the delicate patterns. Frustration crept in as he discarded the piece. "Focus, start over," he instructed himself, slicing another section of hide for a second attempt.
His second try showed improvement, but a slight tremor in his hand at the final rune led to another misalignment. He sighed heavily, setting aside the second piece. "Again."
The third attempt was painstaking. Each stroke of his tool was calculated, the hide bending to his will until—just at the end—a slip. "Again!" he gritted his teeth, frustration mounting as he realized he was down to the last piece of workable hide.
Now, with the pressure mounting and his options depleted, Darius approached the final piece with a mix of caution and resolve. With a sudden thought, he tapped into his lightning mana, cycling it through his meridians and the triple burner meridian, igniting his mind to focus down to the microscopic level. Slowly, with meticulous care, he embossed the runes, his movements fluid and sure.
As he finished the last rune, he held his breath, watching as the hide responded—the runes glowing faintly, a sign of perfect alignment.
Relief washed over him, "Done at last." he breathed out, the soft glow of the runes warming his satisfied smile.