But this time around, I had to do the opposite—I had to drain the magic.
While it was difficult to see just how much magic the orichalcum contained, when I had Lidy inspect it for me, she claimed that there must’ve been quite a bit in there. That was how I’d come up with the idea to remove it. Perhaps it was a simple characteristic of the orichalcum—it contained magical energy that wasn’t discernible to the naked eye. If that was the case, then removing this energy would allow it to become much more malleable, just like how meghizium was before I added magic into it.
One couldn’t add magical energy to meghizium with normal methods—it was like trying to fill a sieve with water. The metal allowed magic to slip right through and was soft like clay—one could even shape it with their hands. I’d tried a few methods to ensure that magical energy wouldn’t seep out, and finally, I’d managed to toughen it up to the point where no normal blade could possibly damage it. I just hope I can do the reverse with the orichalcum and it’ll all work out perfectly.
“Hmm...” I said as I grabbed the bit of metal and touched its surface.
Ugh, I just can’t tell what state it’s in. If only there was a way to know just how much magic’s in this orichalcum. The orichalcum was dazzling in my eyes, as though to mock my struggles.
But I couldn’t give up here. I decided to transfer as much magical energy as I could to a metal sheet and work from there. After a small sigh, I placed the orichalcum back onto a sheet of metal.
After our usual, simple lunch, I continued to spend my afternoon draining the magical energy from the orichalcum. Behind me were a few sheets of metal, imbued with as much magic as they could hold.
“There’s gotta be some change by now, right?” I mumbled.
I felt like I could easily be hammering away into the middle of the night, so I decided to briefly check on the orichalcum. The magical energy I’d drained could’ve filled ten longswords to the brim and then some. Honestly, I was surprised that this small clump of metal, barely enough to forge a knife, contained this much magic.
“Hup!”
I once again used my hammer to swing down on the orichalcum, using a bit more force than usual. I didn’t want to use too much power; just this morning, I’d made that mistake and loosened the handle of my hammer. Another clang rang out, but I felt like the sound was less clear than this morning. I hope my ears aren’t playing tricks on me. But if I’m hearing correctly...
I took the clump of orichalcum and checked to see if it was dented at all. My heart pounded eagerly. But contrary to my hopes, there wasn’t a single scratch on it. My hammer was fine too, so I could safely call this a tie.
“No dice...”
I sighed, and my shoulders slumped with disappointment. Part of me prepared for a tough road ahead, but it was still so demoralizing to see no results at all. Eh, if orichalcum was so easy to forge with, it wouldn’t be seen as the greatest metal of all time. The fact that it takes a bit of elbow grease fires me up...I think. I just have to be positive about it, or else.
Now then, what approach might work? I hadn’t tested heating up the metal yet. If that allowed me to more easily manipulate it, I’d have no troubles at all, but I had a sneaking suspicion that things weren’t so simple. Still, might as well try it out.
“I’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s try it.”
I waited for an opportunity to use the fire, being extra careful not to disturb Samya and the others’ workflow. Sure, I could ask them, and they’d easily allow me to do as I pleased, but I wasn’t keen on abusing my power like that. The flames of the firebed roared away, hotter than usual. I didn’t mind keeping the flames at their normal strength, enough to melt steel, and I didn’t expect heat to allow me to hammer orichalcum so easily anyway. And if I can, I pray that the high temperature will do the trick.
I placed the lump of precious orichalcum into the firebed. The flames licked at the metal, causing it to glow a shimmering orange.
Perplexed, I continued to observe the lump, but it only reflected orange light. Nothing else changed.
Thanks to my cheats, I knew the exact temperature needed to forge steel, and the orichalcum had turned a bright orange, signaling that it was ready to be molded. However, my cheats told me that it wouldn’t budge under my hammer.
In fact, they showed that there was no change whatsoever to the metal’s composition. It was a lot hotter, of course, but not ready to be hammered at all—it was stuck in this weird, awkward sort of limbo. Still, I clung to this sliver of hope and used my tongs to grab the metal, transferring it out of the firebed and onto the anvil. When I placed my hand over it, I could sense its heat, and I knew that this thing must be burning hot. I swung my hammer down hard enough to bend steel, and a clear cling reverberated throughout the forge. But as I’d thought, the orichalcum refused to budge.
Hmm... At this point, I don’t even know where to start. If I knew the trick—like how I’d needed to imbue meghizium with magical energy—I could work toward my goal, but right now, I don’t even know what direction to head toward. I don’t know where I can improve. I had a whole month, so there was still some time to test things out, but my experience from my past life told me that if I was completely lost on the first day, there was a decent chance that I’d remain lost and unable to solve the issue.
So, what should I do?
“Give up and go for a change of pace,” I mumbled.
Too early for that, maybe. I should wrestle with this for a bit longer. There was a decent chance that I’d be flailing desperately and all my efforts would be in vain, but I still had to do what I could. I renewed my determination as I stewed in thought.
“What’s wrong, Eizo?” Samya said, looking at me with concern.
“Oh, things just aren’t going well, is all,” I said honestly.
“I didn’t think you struggled with anything in the forge. I assumed you knew all there was about smithing.”
Rike approached and nodded along.
“Well, this is orichalcum we’re talking about here,” Diana pointed out. “I don’t blame you for struggling.”
“It’s valuable and rare for good reason,” Lidy said.
“Yep,” Anne agreed.
As everyone cheered me on, I felt like I regained a bit of my composure.
All right, what method should I test out next? Just then, I felt a very familiar presence enter the forge. In fact, I’d felt this very recently—it was something I’d assumed would be a daily occurrence.
This presence slowly took form, and a humanoid appeared before my eyes. She was pretty like a doll, and she smiled from ear to ear.
“I’m back!” she cried happily.
She puffed out her chest proudly, her small body standing tall. This girl was none other than the fire spirit, born out of my daily prayers to the kamidana, and my youngest daughter. She emerged with delight, flames flickering all around her.
“Maribel!” Diana cried loudly before I could even react.
She was the first to call out my daughter’s name. Diana seems to be the closest with Maribel, so I can’t blame her.