Sword

Edgar was ecstatic as he followed Myran into his shop.

"Watch closely, kid. You've worked hard up until now. Take a good look at the whole process. It takes years of practice to get to where I am now. Although I haven't made a good sword for a decade, my level is still way above your local blacksmith," said Myran as he gathered all his tools and prepared the materials.

Edgar merely nodded in agreement, already at his peak concentration. There was something almost holy in his mind about the first time he saw Myran working on a sword. He couldn't wait to experience a similar fascination again.

Myran's mood turned serious as he started the process. The air in the shop rose to an unbearable degree as the fire in the furnace grew hotter. Edgar had to step back a couple of feet, but Myran was unbothered by the heat. This was his environment, his battlefield. He could never shrink back in the face of fire and metal.

Myran took the material from his workbench and placed it in the furnace carefully with his pair of tongs. Although Edgar had no idea what kind of material the lump of metal was, it looked quite extravagant. Edgar knew some part of Myran's past, but he was still sometimes surprised. He stared at the old man's back and a sense of warmth filled him. Or maybe it was just the furnace.

Myran placed the metal into the furnace and started working the bellows. Even these menial tasks were done with experience and full concentration. This particular material was tricky, and Myran had to control the temperature just right if he wanted to smelt it to its best quality. The lump of blue, radiant rock and metal turned orange and red as the air drove the temperature of the furnace higher. As soon as the metal reached the ideal temperature, Myran used his tongs to retrieve the metal and started stroking it in one swift motion.

It was elegant. What normally two or three people did with a metal, Myran was doing it all himself with swiftness and precision. He hammered away the impurities of the metal and placed it back into the furnace. He repeated this until the lump had reached about half its original size. The metal was much purer now and much more suitable to forge a high-quality sword.

At this point, Myran started explaining his process to Edgar in a low voice, "Now, I will draw out the length of the metal."

Edgar nodded as he saw Myran steadily hammer out the length of the metal. Slowly but surely, the metal was being lengthened to the size of a sword. The blacksmith had to be careful not to lengthen it too much to keep an appropriate thickness. The steady ring of metal hitting metal filled the smithy. It was meditative. Both of the men were in a trance of complete concentration. One completely immersed in his work, and one attempting to learn from his greatness.

It was a beautiful sight indeed. A master at his craft and a potential student. It was a tale as old as time itself. Not only the idea of mentorship but the process of building a legacy. Perhaps that was what made humans truly human. To survive after death in some way shape or form. Whether it be in memory or in other, more physical forms -- such as blacksmithing. A sword well maintained could last many lifetimes. The rusting of iron and metal much slower than the bright spark of mortal life. Perhaps that's what Myran was subconsciously attempting to achieve. To ensure his survival after his mortal death. He saw a hint of hope through Edgar to pass on his techniques and memory built over a lifetime.

Building upon the shoulders of giants, human civilizations reach greater heights each day.

As the shape of the metal lengthened, the shape of the sword became more and more apparent. Although the nature of blacksmithing was repetitive, there was no ounce of monotony. each strike of the hammer was necessary and entirely different from another. It was a constant battle against the metal to try to bend and shape it to your will. To subdue it. Although Edgar had no true sense of this battle, he was glimpsing at it. Perhaps in the future, he will understand the true meaning of Myran's words about subduing metal.

Edgar was deep in thought as Myran finished the rough shape of the sword.

Truly magnificent, Edgar thought to himself as he saw Myran taking the sword and quenching it in water.

Myran spoke again and continued his lecture as he handled the sword, checking for its center of balance and marking the final shape of the sword onto the metal "Now, I will slowly grind the edges down into the final shape I've marked."

Edgar continued to watch as Myran slowly finished the sword. He sharpened it into its most deadly form, added decorations onto the hilt of the blade, and added his engravings. It all went by in a blur as Edgar's mind was filled with admiration and greedy eyes. The more he watched, the more he wanted to grab a hammer himself. More miraculously, however, was the fact that Myran didn't break the sword.

In fact, as he finished up the final touches, Myran grabbed the sword, turned to face Edgar, and presented him with it. His eyes were red, whether from concentrating for hours or from emotion, Edgar wasn't sure. However, as he presented him with the sword, Edgar could see the emotion in his eyes.

Myran had achieved what he had been failing to do the past decade. Edgar stared down at the sword in front of him and felt its weight. The metal was hard and flexible, but most of the weight came from Myran's emotions.

As Edgar examined the sword, he could see why.

[Myran's Sword of Determination]

[Rating: Perfect]

[Soulbound]

[???]

[???]

Although he couldn't see most of the stats, he understood the value of the item in front of him. The weight in his hands doubled as he kneeled down and tried to reject this priceless gift.

Myran would have none of it and told Edgar, "It was thanks to you that I was able to craft a perfect piece again. Watching you word hard these past few weeks re-ignited a long extinguished flame."

Edgar couldn't believe it. The whole chain of events was unreal. At times he even forgot he was in a game. The emotion was much too real. He was grateful, awestruck, but most of all shocked at his crazy luck! He had received a Perfect item. He was still level 1! He couldn't believe it.

He quickly regained his senses as Myran looked at the sword he had just given away. There was no regret, no remorse. He was only grateful to Edgar. Their relationship had reached a level of closeness rarely seen. Just as Edgar thought it, he received a notification.

[Relationship with Blacksmith Myran: Friendly --> MAX (Myran's Benefactor) ]

Although Edgar had no clue of the true value of the item and his relationship with Myran at the moment, he could sense that they were paramount in his future in Atlas Life.