Chapter 3

Note: Hi, I'm happy for the reception that the story is having as well as the participation of you guys commenting on each chapter as well as receiving help and suggestions on how we can continue. For now I will continue to grow Muramasa x Rimuru x Ciel's relationship, then we will focus on Tensura's canon. I'll have to read the light novel to know the right time to go to canon.

And I also want to say that I am not very motivated, I just received news that left me very sad, the death of a friend with whom I grew up where my maternal grandmother lived. He was tortured, and surely for the information of where his brother was hiding, since his brother is in the bad way of delinquency, to save his brother he lost his life.

So I apologize if the chapter is not to your liking, but the Muramasa x Rimuru x Ciel relationship should continue gradually so it doesn't feel too rushed. If there is misinformation on the magic metals of how it works you can comment on it or you can let it go for this time.

Thank you for your attention and continue reading the chapter.

Chapter 3

The steady sound of Muramasa's hammer echoed in the forge. The heat of the fire filled the space as the blacksmith worked with the precision and patience of someone who had honed his craft over decades. However, today was not a day like any other.

On his table rested fragments of unknown metals, each with a luster and texture that Muramasa could not immediately categorize. He had received a sample of these materials thanks to Rimuru, who had insisted that he try them out for future creations.

"Magisteel, Mithril, Orichalcum, Adamantite?" murmured Muramasa, twirling one of the shards between his fingers. "I've never worked with things like this before."

Beside him, Rimuru, who had decided to accompany him that day, watched with a satisfied smile. "Those materials are pretty common around here. I thought it would be interesting to see what you can do with them."

Muramasa put the Magisteel shard down on the table and looked at Rimuru with his typical serious expression. "I can't work with something I don't understand. If I'm going to use these materials, I need to know how they behave with heat, hammer and magic."

"That's what's exciting," Rimuru commented, leaning against one of the forge walls. "It's a challenge, don't you think?"

The blacksmith frowned, though there was a spark of interest in his eyes. Challenges had always been a part of his life. He had forged swords and tools that others thought impossible, but these materials were completely new to him.

Ciel decided to provide information.

"Muramasa, I can provide you with basic facts about the properties of these materials," he commented in his calm, analytical tone. "For example, Magisteel has a high capacity for magical conduction and is extremely heat resistant, but it requires a precise balance between temperature and pressure to mold it."

Muramasa raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And the others?"

"Mithril is a lightweight and versatile metal, ideal for weapons that require speed and precision. Orichalcum is incredibly dense and is used for heavy weapons or extreme defenses. And Adamantite... it is virtually indestructible, but it is also the most difficult to shape. It requires an exceptional level of control."

Muramasa nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "Interesting. If it's as you say, each of these materials has unique potential... but also its own quirks."

Rimuru smiled, amused by the glint of curiosity in the blacksmith's eyes. "That means you'll have to experiment a bit, won't you?"

"That means," Muramasa corrected, "that I will have to master these materials. A blacksmith doesn't experiment; a blacksmith controls the metal until it does what he wants it to."

Deciding to start with the Magisteel, Muramasa placed a small fragment on the anvil and turned on the furnace at a higher temperature than usual. As the metal began to heat up, he noticed how it changed color from a dull gray to a bright blue that seemed to vibrate with magical energy.

"Interesting," he murmured, leaning in for a closer look.

As he raised his hammer to strike the first blow, the metal emitted a faint buzzing sound, as if responding to his movement. Muramasa paused for a moment, intrigued. Rimuru, who had been watching silently, spoke:

"Magisteel is sensitive to magic, remember? Maybe you should try channeling some of your energy while you work it."

Muramasa looked at Rimuru out of the corner of his eye, somewhat skeptical. However, he decided to give it a try. Concentrating, he let a small amount of his magical energy flow through the hammer as he struck the metal.

The result was immediate. The Magisteel seemed to resonate with the impact, molding itself more fluidly than I had anticipated. The humming became more constant, almost harmonious, as if the metal responded to its will.

"This is not like ordinary steel," Muramasa commented, striking the Magisteel with a mixture of force and care. "It requires more... interaction."

"Exactly," Rimuru said, clearly excited by the progress.

After a few hours, Muramasa put the hammer aside and examined his work. He had managed to forge a small Magisteel dagger, simple but perfectly balanced. The blade had an ethereal glow, almost as if it were alive.

"It's a good start," Muramasa said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But I'll need time to master it completely."

Rimuru took the dagger carefully, admiring the work. "This is amazing, Muramasa. If you can do this on your first try, I can't wait to see what you'll do when you really master it."

Ciel, added in a neutral tone, "With enough practice, Muramasa could become one of the most renowned blacksmiths in the entire world. His skill is already far above local standards."

Muramasa did not respond, although the slight curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed a small smile of pride.

As the forge fell silent again, Muramasa looked at the other metal shards on his table. The Magisteel had been an interesting challenge, but he knew that the Mithril, Orichalcum and Adamantite would also require their own strategy.

"I guess I'll just have to get used to it," he muttered to himself, turning back to preparing the oven.

From her corner, Rimuru watched him with a satisfied smile. She couldn't help but feel a little proud that she had brought the metals for the growth of Muramasa's smithy.

"It's only a matter of time before you're a legend around here," Rimuru commented, almost in a joking tone.

Muramasa, without taking his eyes off the metal, replied in his typical dry tone, "Legends don't do the work. The work is all that matters."

Rimuru laughed softly. "As you say, Muramasa."

And with that, the day continued, full of work, fire and the sound of steel being forged under the hands of a master.

Two days later...

The constant sound of the hammer echoed in the forge, day and night, like a tireless heartbeat. For the past two days, Muramasa had done nothing but work, experiment and learn. The heat of the furnace filled the air, while the magical metals rested on his workbench, waiting to be mastered.

He was not a man used to accepting help, but this time, even Muramasa had to admit that the information Ciel was providing was invaluable.

"Raise the temperature to 1,800 degrees before starting the Orichalcum," Ciel commented, his serene tone echoing in the forge. "And be sure to strike it at precise intervals to prevent the metal from losing its magical cohesion."

Muramasa, although he had initially snorted at the thought of receiving instructions, followed each prompt precisely.

"Do you always talk so much?" he muttered as he adjusted the fire in the oven.

"Only when I consider the information to be useful," Ciel replied in his usual neutral tone.

Muramasa struck the Orichalcum hard, watching as the metal began to mold under the weight of his hammer. Unlike the Magisteel, which seemed to flow easily once he understood its nature, the Orichalcum was stubborn, resisting each blow as if it had a will of its own.

"This metal is stubborn," Muramasa commented, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Its density and strength make it one of the most difficult materials to mold," Ciel responded. "However, its durability is unmatched. Once properly forged, it is nearly indestructible."

Muramasa smiled slightly, more to himself than to Ciel. "I like a challenge."

Ciel watched Muramasa's every move carefully. Despite being a hybrid (human and spirit), he couldn't help but be mildly curious about the blacksmith's dedication.

(Indicators detected: high concentration, exceptional physical endurance. This individual works tirelessly, showing a focus that exceeds human standards. Evaluation: fascinating).

Although Ciel was not capable of human emotion, there was something about the way Muramasa interacted with the materials that seemed... unique. Every blow of the hammer was precise, every adjustment of the furnace meticulously calculated. Even when he made mistakes, he did so with the intention of learning and improving.

"Muramasa," Ciel interrupted as he took a brief water break.

"What?" he muttered, setting the jug aside.

"I've noticed that your work rate doesn't stop, even when you haven't slept in the two days to master these metals. Don't you consider it wise to rest to optimize your performance?"

Muramasa chuckled, a low, almost inaudible sound. "Rest comes after mastering what I have in front of me."

"Interesting," Ciel commented, registering the answer. "So, for you, work is more important than your physical well-being?"

Muramasa raised an eyebrow, looking into the air as if processing Ciel's response. "I am a blacksmith, and it is what defines me. If I stop working, I stop being me. Is that answer enough for you?"

"It's... enough," Ciel replied, though he continued to analyze silently. (He individual prioritizes his purpose above all else. A logical approach, but emotionally disconcerting. Perhaps there is more behind this mentality).

By the second day, Muramasa had made significant progress with each material.

Magisteel: He had learned to channel magical energy more precisely, managing to create perfectly balanced weapons with a unique magical resonance.

Mithril: Its lightness and malleability had allowed him to experiment with more intricate designs, creating filigree patterns that seemed impossible for such a strong metal.

Orichalcum: Although still a challenge, Muramasa had begun to understand his behavior, managing to forge a small but impenetrable shield.

However, Adamantite remained his biggest obstacle. Try as he might, the metal refused to budge. Each blow of the hammer bounced back with a metallic echo, as if taunting him.

Ciel, observing from his place, offered his analysis, "Adamantite requires a constant source of magical energy to soften its internal structure. Without this energy, it will remain completely rigid."

Muramasa frowned. "I don't have time to deal with whims. A metal should be able to be shaped with the right tools."

"Perhaps," said Ciel, "but this is not a common metal. If you insist on approaching it as if it were, your efforts will be futile."

Muramasa paused for a moment, staring at the Adamantite shard on the anvil. Although she would not admit it out loud, he knew Ciel was right.

"I guess I'll have to use more magic," he muttered, raising the hammer once more.

As the night progressed, Muramasa began to realize that Ciel's presence, though cold and distant, was valuable. Her analysis and comments not only helped him understand the materials, but also pushed him to rethink his approach as a blacksmith.

For his part, Ciel noticed something unusual about Muramasa: a kind of respect for his own work, a commitment that went beyond the logical.

(Conclusion: human emotions, although confusing, are an undeniable motivating force. The individual, although not expressed verbally, shows a deep emotional connection to his art. I will continue to observe).

When he finally turned off the furnace at the end of the second day, Muramasa looked at the remaining Adamantite fragments. Despite his frustrations, he couldn't help but feel intrigued.

From his corner, Ciel spoke once more, "In time, Muramasa, you will master even this material. No doubt about it."

Muramasa didn't answer right away, but a faint smile appeared on his lips. "I hope so. After all, I've yet to meet a metal I can't shape."

And with that, the forge lapsed back into silence, as the blacksmith and the observant intelligence continued to work their way towards perfection.

The next day, Muramasa's forge was still echoing with the steady sound of hammer against anvil. He had not slept. For him, Adamantite was more than just metal; it was a personal challenge to overcome.

With eyes injected with fatigue, but full of determination, he adjusted the furnace to its maximum temperature and placed the Adamantite fragment back inside. Scorching heat filled the room, illuminating his face with a reddish glow as he waited for the metal to reach the exact point to be worked.

Ciel, watched from a corner. Although he could not experience fatigue like a human, it was evident that Muramasa was pushing his body to the limit.

"Muramasa," Ciel began in her usual tone, "your work rate is unsustainable. Your life may be in danger if you continue to imbue your body with exorbitant amounts of mana beyond your limits."

"Again with that?" replied Muramasa without looking at her, raising the hammer once more. "If I can't master this metal, I may as well call myself dead."

Ciel tilted his head slightly, processing her response. Although she didn't quite understand it, there was something fascinating about her unwavering commitment.

(Conclusion: This individual prioritizes his purpose above all else, including his well-being. Hypothesis: An emotional connection to his work could be the source of this motivation).

Muramasa removed the Adamantite from the furnace and placed it on the anvil. The metal, now glowing with a faint purple glow, emitted a steady hum, as if it were alive.

He struck hard, but the hammer barely managed to score the surface. Each impact resonated with a metallic echo, returning a resistance that no other metal had ever shown before.

"This damn piece of metal..." he muttered between his teeth, tightening his grip on the hammer handle.

"Your magical energy is not being channeled steadily," Ciel pointed out as he approached. "Adamantite requires a steady stream of magic to alter its internal structure. Without it, it will continue to resist."

Muramasa frowned, remembering Ciel's words from the day before. Reluctantly, he began to channel her magical energy through the hammer. However, the process was still uneven, and the metal was barely yielding.

"This isn't working," he finally admitted, setting the hammer aside and running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Let me help you," Ciel offered, moving closer to the anvil.

Muramasa raised an eyebrow, distrustful. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"I'm part of Rimuru-sama," Ciel explained calmly. "My magical capabilities surpass yours in terms of stability. I can keep the magic current going while you work the metal."

Muramasa watched her silently for a moment, evaluating her proposal. Finally, he nodded. "All right. But don't interfere any more than necessary."

Ciel extended a hand toward the Adamantite, and a magical current began to flow into the metal. The buzzing sound emitting from the Adamantite changed, becoming softer and steadier. Muramasa raised the hammer and struck again.

This time, the impact was different. The Adamantite began to yield, slowly molding under the weight of the hammer.

"It works," Muramasa muttered, his eyes shining with renewed determination.

"Continue," Ciel said, keeping her tone neutral as she stabilized the magical energy. "But keep in mind that this process requires absolute precision. Any variation could compromise the integrity of the metal."

Muramasa did not respond, concentrating completely on his work. For hours, the two worked in perfect synchrony. Ciel kept the magical flow constant, while Muramasa, with each stroke, shaped the strongest metal he had ever faced.

Finally, as evening fell, the Adamantite had been fashioned into a towering sword. The blade glowed with a purple radiance, and its edge seemed capable of cutting through even the air.

"It's... perfect," Muramasa muttered, holding the sword in front of him.

Ciel nodded slightly, though his expression remained impassive. "Your skill is admirable, Muramasa. In time, you could become the best blacksmith in the world."

Muramasa let out a sigh, laying the sword on the table. "That doesn't matter. Only the work matters."

As Muramasa turned off the furnace and cleaned his tools, Rimuru entered the forge, looking visibly surprised to find Ciel and Muramasa working together.

"What's going on here?" she asked, crossing his arms as he looked at both of them.

Muramasa, as usual, showed little emotion. "Nothing. I just finished the job."

Rimuru looked at Adamantite's sword on the table and then at Ciel, who was slightly adjusting her white kimono.

"Ciel, are you helping him?" she asked, incredulous.

"Correct," Ciel replied calmly. "Muramasa required magical assistance to stabilize the Adamantite. It was logical to offer my assistance."

Rimuru arched an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Logical? Since when do you decide to help someone other than me?"

Ciel tilted his head slightly. "It's an extension of my analysis. Your dedication and focus on your craft are interesting elements to study."

Rimuru sighed, holding a hand to her forehead. "I should have figured it out. But seriously, Muramasa, haven't you slept yet? You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up."

"I'm fine," Muramasa replied in a dry tone, as he took a drink of water.

"Yeah, right," Rimuru muttered, though she couldn't help but smile at the sight of the finished sword. "I guess it was worth it, at least."

As the sun began to set, Rimuru stood watching the finished sword, her attention divided between the purple glow of the Adamantite and the way Muramasa and Ciel worked together to organize the forge. Without warning, a small twinge ran through her chest, unnerving her.

"What is this...?" she muttered to herself, holding a hand to her chest. The sensation was new, unfamiliar, and she could not identify its source.

She shook her head, trying to push the thought away, but her gaze remained fixed on Muramasa. His seriousness, his dedication... there was something about him that captured her attention more than she was willing to admit.

"You're definitely someone interesting, Muramasa," she commented quietly, more to herself than to anyone else.

Muramasa, as always, continued to work, completely oblivious to Rimuru's emotional turmoil.

And so another day at the forge came to an end, filled with fire, steel and the slow but inevitable building of a deeper connection between three souls who were just beginning to understand each other.