At the end of the area, Kain saw Ishida sitting on a pile of cushions set above a small dais. To his right knelt his daughter Yumei, who watched Kain intently. And to his left were Ren and Yuki.
Kain thanked the maid who had brought him there, walked until he was within earshot of the daimyo, bowed and said, “Greetings, Ishida-daimyo.”
“Kain Smith,” Ishida acknowledged. “I had been awaiting you. How has your recovery come along so far?”
Kain stood up and rolled his arms, knowing that his taut muscles rippled beneath his tunic. “I have healed well, lord daimyo, thanks to your help.”
Ishida nodded. “I am glad that you have recovered, Kain Smith,” then he stood up and said, “Do you know why I have summoned you?”
“I do not.”
“Hmm. Your fate has been decided, Kain Smith. You are a peculiar man, that much is certain: You eschew tradition, you perform arcane smithing rituals which go beyond my ken, you use an alien combat style and,” he smiled, “You create weapons thought to be impossible. By all accounts, Kain Smith, you are a heretic.”
“I am, lord daimyo, but I would ask of you, if I may?” Kain ventured, and Ishida nodded his approval. “Do you know the meaning of the word ‘heretic’ when stripped from the negative connotation ascribed to it by our priests?”
A smirk formed at the corner of Ishida’s mouth, and he replied, “Enlighten me.”
“A heretic,” Kain began, “Is, by definition, someone who thinks, acts, and does as his consciousness tells him to, regardless of tradition or social convention. A free man to the whole extent of the word, lord daimyo.”
“A free-thinker, a man who doesn’t ascribe to tradition, is that so? Hmm, in that case, that means that a heretic is a dangerous man to our system, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I agree,” Kain replied. “A person such as myself would denounce the injustice perpetrated by those said to be hallowed by the gods themselves, namely, our Emperor, our shoguns, our noblemen,” and trying to be as respectful as he could, he added, “Even you, lord daimyo.”
Ishida scoffed. “Bravely, if foolishly said, Kain Smith.”
Kain shrugged. “There’s a tenuous line between bravery and foolishness, lord. Which one my statement was, I leave to your discretion.”
“Justly said. Let me tell you something, Kain Smith: When I first lay hands upon Zwaihan, she told me she had been created by a man with a most peculiar mixture of traits—a smith, a warrior, and a heretic. I have seen you perform as a warrior, and I know you’ve been using my training facilities. We have just determined that you are a heretic,” he smiled, “And proudly so. But I am yet to see you perform as a blacksmith. You seem to be a clever man, Kain Smith. Have you gleaned what I intend for you, now?”
Kain lifted an eyebrow and folded his arms before he asked, “You will order me to forge something for you.”
Ishida’s mouth split into a grin. “Precisely. Zwaihan informed me that you accelerate the forging process by using a form of mahoo not known to our blacksmiths, is that correct?” Kain nodded. “Well, I would like to see you perform such arts.”
“Lord,” Kain said, “Doing so would not only brand me a heretic and worsen my situation. Though I appreciate your interest, I fear it will provide you with more arguments for my execution.”
Ishida scoffed. “That matter is mine to decide, Kain Smith. But consider this: Suppose that I am looking to execute Kajiya Senshi. Suppose that there may be a place in my retinue for a heretic. Suppose that I may have a use for Kain Smith.”
Though Kain didn’t fully understand the meaning behind Ishida’s words, they filled him with a glimmer of hope. He bowed and said, “What would the lord daimyo have me forge?”
“Hmm,” Ishida brought a hand to his chin as he contemplated the question. His free hand rested upon Zwaihan’s hilt, and a smile crept across his face. “You know, to this day I am curious: What the hell is a Zu-ai-han-da?”
Kain bowed and uttered, “I will show you what a Zweihänder is, lord.” He turned towards one of the forges, but before he started walking towards it, he asked, “Lord, if I may ask, why are there forges at your castle, yet you employ outside smiths?”
Ishida shrugged. “If I had my own smiths, my brother Ichiro would be eternally afraid of me trying to outfit an army.”
“I see,” Kain said flatly as he started towards the forge. He was glad to see the furnace was already ablaze, and the components for producing steel were close to it—piles of ironsand and charcoal. He took an apron and donned it before reaching for a spade to shovel ironsands into the furnace. But as he took it, he realized something: “Lord, are these made out of steel?”
“They are,” Ishida replied, “Why?”
Kain smiled. “You will see.” He took the tools he’d need to forge the greatsword: a pair of tongs, a hammer, and a drill. The spade he kept to channel through the steel it was made of. He stepped towards the ironsands and held the spade. “This is the first trick I use, lord. It’s meant to extract as much pure metal as possible from the ironsands.”
“Proceed,” Ishida ordered. Kain nodded and did as told: He focused his will through the steel and drew pure iron from the sands, forming a large, workable lump the size of his two fists. Ishida commanded, “Explain.”
“Master smiths learn how to feel the underlying structures which compose metal, lord, and we can focus our will through them. Not unlike the manner in which vessel blades are—”
“Wait,” Ishida interrupted, “You know of the demonic western weapons?”
“Yes, lord. There is nothing demonic to them, in fact they are akin but opposite to ikiteiruken. The former can receive the wielder’s will, while the later have a will of their own which infuses the user.”
“Hmm, I see. We must speak further on this topic, Kain Smith. For now, please continue.”
“Lord. As I was saying, steel, being a mixture of iron and carbon is, in essence, not a pure metal, thus allowing for stronger channeling capabilities. In this case, I exert my will through the metal to create a powerful magnetic field and clump together the iron in the sands. It’s much quicker than refining it through constantly smelting sands and producing small nuggets of iron.” He lifted the spade and uttered, “As you may see, lord, exerting one’s will through metal degrades it, as its structures aren’t meant to withstand a human’s essence. The opposite is true when an ikiteiruken enhances its wielder.”
“A matter to keep in mind, Kain Smith. Please, continue.”
Kain nodded once again and thrust the lump into the raging furnace. He took a pair of gloves from the rack, put them on and began working with the metal. As the iron heated up, he took the spade again and made the metal receptive to the charcoal he’d introduce next; once the incantation was complete, and pieces of the spade’s exterior flaked off, he shoveled charcoal into the furnace, covering the iron in its entirety before addressing Ishida once more.
“As I held the iron inside the furnace, I enacted another enchantment upon it. I willed the metal structures in the iron to become highly receptive to charcoal dust. Traditionally, a smith would take days to produce a workable amount of tamahagane, and this steel would be of varying quality and hardness. Nipponese katanas are made of steel of different hardness, lord, with the softest shingane steel forming their cores, the medium-strength kawagane strengthening their spines, and strong hagane for their edge. You can see this distinction on your own Zwaihan.”
“Are you producing three types of steel then, Kain Smith?”
Kain shook his head. “No. I am smithing in the western style. Their weapons are built with better quality steel, lord, and I say this as a fact. Westerners have rich iron deposits, unlike our own; the pig iron they utilize for their weapons is of a better quality and as a result, it’s sturdier and more flexible than that of a common katana. I refined my technique during my time in the west, and that same technique is what I have been using as I worked with my fa
ther.”
Ishida’s eyes narrowed as he ruminated on Kain’s response. “That means that were a western sword to collide against one of our own, ours would be weaker?”
“As I said, yes. A katana would be likely to be chipped or even broken, but the strength of a weapon’s steel isn’t everything there is to it. The skill of its wielder matters more, especially as it pertains to vessel blades and living swords. The former has its kotodama removed in order to accommodate its user’s will, while the later has its kotodama awakened so it can seep into the user. My father named the process of awakening an ikiteiruken the art of giving, while I dubbed the creation of a vessel blade the art of taking.”
“An interesting notion, which leads me to ask: Can there be a balance between the giving and the taking?”
Kain blinked rapidly, as he was unprepared for the question. Finding no reason to lie to Ishida, he replied, “Yes, lord. Your own Zwaihan is, in fact, capable of said balance.”
The daimyo leaned forward as he heard Kain’s response. “What do you mean?”
“Lord,” Kain said respectfully, “I assume you’ve used Zwaihan as an ikiteiruken, drawing for it to enhance yourself?”
“I have,” the ruler admitted. “But is this not in fact, as you named it, taking from her?”
“It is, but Zwaihan is giving to you. When you do this for a prolonged period of time, you feel your own strength waning regardless, correct?”
“Correct, Kain Smith.”
“Well, have you tried the other way, trying to inject your will into Zwaihan to enhance her capabilities, rather than yours?”
Ishida tilted his head and replied, “I have not.”
“Then I’ll invite you to do so, lord.”
“I will, after you finish your demonstration.”
Kain bowed and said, “Lord,” then returned to his work. He channeled his will into the recently formed steel inside the furnace, willing it to retain its temperature and to the daimyo he said, “I have now enchanted the resulting steel to retain the heat within, lord, making it so I need not heat it time and again in order to make it malleable.”
“I can see the use in that,” Ishida said. “Continue.”
The smith removed the red-hot steel from the furnace and took it to the anvil; he grabbed the hammer from the rack and struck the steel, releasing a shower of sparks onto the sand as he removed the slag from it. He proceeded by taking a cutting wedge from the rack, and removing a small piece from the lump of steel. “This,” he declared, “Will become the crossguard and pommel of the weapon.”
“A second, Kain Smith,” Ishida said, “Ku-ro-su-gaa-do, po-me-ru?” He asked, intoning each syllable of the words.
“The equivalents of a tsuba and kashira, lord, except different. You will see,” he said. Ishida gave no reply, merely nodding for Kain to continue.
The smith turned around the piece he removed from the lump and returned it to the forge before he started working on the larger portion of steel. He began by folding it unto itself time and again, until he formed a workable, bar-like piece of metal. In his mind’s eye, he envisioned the overall shape of the Zweihänder he was about to forge. Let’s see... Two-hundred and ten centimeters from tip to pommel, he thought, With a grip twenty-five centimeters in length; five centimeters for the guard, and another fifteen for the ricasso, meaning the blade alone will be a hundred and sixty-five centimeters in length, with a total weight of three kilograms.
“What are you doing, blacksmith?” The daimyo asked.
“I am visualizing the weapon’s shape in my mind, lord. Planning is an essential aspect of nearly every conceivable endeavor, wouldn’t you agree.”
“Agreed,” said Ishida. “Continue.”
Kain said nothing as he began striking the metal, widening the bar to the width of the weapon, close to seven and a half centimeters. When he was satisfied with the width, he started hammering the metal, forming the flat shape of the blade and turning it around for an even distribution of the force he applied. Slowly, the blade’s length grew; Kain shifted his tongs along the metal to compensate for the increased length. When he felt the length of the blade was adequate, he shaped its tip, turning the elongated metal on its side and carefully narrowing one end.
After completing the tip (and thus the blade itself), he started working on the metal’s opposite end, again turning it on its side and narrowing its other end into what would become the sword’s tang. He narrowed the portion where the tang began so the guard block would slot into it, and then lengthened the metal into a taper until it was close to twenty-five centimeters. Kain clamped his tongs tightly on the tang and examined the blade for any kinks or deformations. He corrected the blade’s straightness on the anvil and checked it once more, before deeming it ready.
Kain returned the completed blade and tang into the furnace and then removed the smaller metal lump from its inside; he used the cutting tool to divide the lump into two pieces, one roughly two-thirds of the original size, while the remaining third he returned to the furnace. He hammered the piece, folding it as he did with the largest lump until it had the rough shape of a rectangular prism. Once it had a workable shape, he started elongating one side of the block, turning it over its sides to keep an even, quadrangular shape and form one of the guard’s quillons. When it was roughly fifteen centimeters long, he decided to work on the opposite quillon, leaving a thicker region in the guard where the blade would rest. He repeated the procedure on the opposite side of the block, evenly drawing out the other end of the metal. As he finished the quillons, he surveyed the shape of the crossguard and, deeming it finished, he released the enchantment he had set upon it and dropped the piece on the sand so it could cool down on its own.
The blacksmith began work on the smaller piece of steel, folding it into a workable cube-like shape. He visualized a pommel as simple yet practical as the weapon he was forging, and he began flattening the cube until it was roughly thrice the thickness of the blade. When it had the thickness he desired, he started hammering it into a stylized octagonal shape; every strike of his hammer added to the pommel, refining its figure until it was a nearly perfect octagon. As before, Kain released the enchantment and dropped it into the sand so it cooled off, then he addressed Ishida. “The main metallic components of the weapon are complete, lord daimyo. The blade, crossguard and pommel are ready to be fixed together, but first I must quench the blade itself.”
“Well, in case you didn’t realize, there’s a water trough beside you.”
Kain shook his head, “No, lord. I require something else to produce the best blade possible.”
“And that would be?” Ishida asked curiously.
Kain replied, “I need the water replaced by oil.”
Ishida blinked rapidly. “Oil? Of all things, why oil?”
“Because oil, specifically rapeseed oil, provides a better heat treating than water on account of a higher boiling temperature; ideally, I would also prefer a vertical tube, rather than a horizontal trough, but this will suffice.”
“Hmm,” Ishida clapped his hands and a servant stepped forward. “Empty the trough and bring enough vases of rapeseed oil to fill it again.”
“Lord daimyo,” the servant replied as he bowed, and then went to satisfy his lord’s request.”
“Thank you, lord Ishida,” said Kain before adding, “Now I shall work on shaping the wooden piece of the weapon’s grip.” Ishida nodded his assent, and Kain walked intently towards the woodworking bench, ready to shape the Zweihänder’s wooden handle.
***
“Nagi! Nagi look!”
“I have no eyes, Ryusei,” Naginata replied matter-of-factly.
“I know, I mean, enhance my own!” The sword did as requested, and Ryusei’s eyesight was augmented through the weapon’s might. Though he felt a warm liquid seeping from his eyelid, Ryusei’s request had been fruitful as the clarity he gained allowed him to see the fully armored figure striding purpose
fully towards the daimyo’s castle. “Who is that fellow?” he wondered loudly.
“What can you see?” asked Naginata curiously.
“I see a man dressed in a full suit of armor. He’s striding towards the castle and… Wait! He just unsheathed his sword and... Oh gods!”
“What?”
“He just beheaded one of the guards at the entrance and… Gods above! He chopped the other man in half!”
“How? Who is that man?”
“I don’t know,” Ryusei replied worriedly. “But I’m afraid it might be Hanataro!”
“Damn it,” Naginata uttered in vexation. “We must find Kain!”
“I agree, but how?”
“I’ll try to enhance your hearing, Ryusei. Try to find Kain’s voice, or Ren’s, or Yuki’s, anyone’s!”
Ryusei feared briefly for himself. He had been using a lot of energy whenever Naginata enhanced him, and though he rested and ate thanks to her help, he still felt tired whenever Naginata improved his senses. But it’s Kain and the girls, he thought sullenly. It’s my family. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said, “Do it.”
Immediately, he felt Naginata’s energy shifting from his eyes to his ears, and his hearing acuity became overwhelmingly strong; he felt dizzy and clung tightly to the willow’s branch as the auditory world around him assaulted him: He became aware of the scurrying of insects’ minuscule legs on the trunk of the tree, he heard every blade in the tree’s leaves as they were swayed by the wind, he noticed the sound of sap coursing through the branch he clung to.
“Focus, Ryusei!”
“I’m trying!” He shut his eyes tightly and tried to make sense of the cacophony around him. His hearing was drawn to a familiar sound, something which resonated within him: The sound of a piece of wood being shaved off with a hand plane.
Heretic's Forge: A Crafting Fantasy Adventure (The Warrior Blacksmith Book 1) Page 24
