Free Web NovelChapter 290: Chapter 278: Mithril Blade Forged, The Emergence of a Strange Inscription
"It’s done."
Roland’s whisper was exceptionally clear in the silent forge.
He opened his palm, carefully examining the newly forged Mithril Dagger.
It lay quietly in his palm, its entire body suffused with a reserved, silvery luster, as if it were solidified, liquid starlight.
On the blade, the fine, Star Dust-like veins of light were not static; they pulsed with extreme slowness deep within, like the breathing of a slumbering behemoth.
A pure and powerful Wind Elemental Energy was perfectly bound within the long, narrow piece of metal, forming a stable yet active core.
Roland’s thumb gently brushed over the edge of the blade, applying no pressure.
Yet, in the instant of contact, after an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible resistance, the air beneath the pad of his thumb seemed to have been silently sliced open.
He could even "feel" the Wind Element spontaneously gathering and flowing at the Dagger’s tip, forming an invisible, razor-sharp edge.
Seeing this, Roland picked up an ordinary iron ingot used for practice.
He swung the Dagger down casually.
There was no grating friction, no spray of sparks, only an extremely faint "SHHFF" sound.
Like a hot knife through butter, the iron ingot was smoothly shaved, the cut surface as smooth as a mirror.
’This level of sharpness...’
Roland was inwardly impressed.
Even compared to the curse-lifted Secret Silver Longsword at his waist, in terms of sheer cutting sharpness, this newborn Dagger was likely superior.
Pleased with the result, Roland curled his finger and flicked the spine of the Dagger very lightly with his knuckle.
"TWANG..."
An exceptionally crisp, slightly thin hum rang out.
Sensing the slight vibration from the Dagger, he immediately stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Feedback from [Material Synesthesia] instantly flooded his mind.
Beneath the beautiful, Star Dust-like veins, he could clearly "see" impurity spots like tiny, hidden reefs, as well as the nearly invisible micro-fractures left over from the raw material’s crude extraction.
These flaws had not vanished within the Dagger’s perfect form. They were merely forcibly constrained, with the Runes inscribed by the [Elemental Imprint] guiding the Magic Power to bypass them.
’It’s made from shards, after all...’
Roland muttered to himself with a trace of understanding and regret.
The Dagger’s sharpness came from the [Elemental Imprint] channeling the Wind Elemental Power to its absolute limit, solidifying it at the edge to form a field of sharpness that surpassed the material itself.
But its structural integrity was limited by the nature of its materials.
The impurities and internal damage greatly weakened the metal’s resilience and overall strength.
This gave the Dagger a sharpness capable of cutting through refined steel, but its thin, brittle structure could shatter from a single intense parry or impact.
It was a perfect masterpiece of Enchantment, yet also like a delicate crystal vessel, requiring its user to handle its internal fragility with extreme care.
After a slight shake of his head, Roland’s face showed no trace of disappointment.
Pursuing the perfect weapon was not his fundamental reason for purchasing these Secret Silver Shards.
In his eyes, the greatest value of these poor-quality scraps was not their final form, but that they provided an excellent training ground.
A relatively low-cost platform for him to gain real experience with a metal like Mithril, which possessed Magic Guide properties.
Crafting small Enchanted Tools was secondary; his true goal was to accumulate experience performing [Elemental Imprint] on a Mithril medium.
The forge fire flared again, illuminating Roland’s focused figure.
He no longer tried to forge weapons, instead focusing on small consumables like Arrows and throwing weapons.
Repeat, fail, adjust, repeat again.
Every imprint was practice, every failure a lesson learned.
From his initial clumsiness, he gradually mastered the subtle rhythm of guiding the Wind Element within the Mithril.
From carefully avoiding impurities, he became able to more efficiently utilize every bit of the material’s affinity for Magic Power.
The repetitive forging was like a silent tempering, making his control over his Spiritual Power increasingly precise and deepening his understanding of the synergy between [Elemental Imprint] and Mithril’s Traits.
[You have successfully completed an Elemental Imprint and gained one Experience Point]
[You have successfully completed an Elemental Imprint and gained...]
[You have successfully completed a...]
An unknown amount of time passed, with the golden text continuously appearing in his vision. Roland finally stopped his work when the last small piece of Secret Silver Shard in his hand transformed into a throwing blade imbued with a sharp, windy aura.
A confidence born from grasping the essence of his craft settled in his eyes.
The trickle of experience had converged, culminating in a qualitative transformation.
It was time.
His gaze fell to his waist.
The Longsword that had accompanied him for so long was the ultimate touchstone for his [Elemental Imprint] skill.
Roland unfastened the Longsword and placed it solemnly on the forge anvil.
He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and brought his condition to its peak.
His fingertips brushed across the cool spine of the blade. [Material Synesthesia] activated instantly, and the unimpeded affinity for Magic Power of the pure Mithril became crystal clear.
He then placed his hands just above the sword’s body. Like an invisible tide, his immense Spiritual Power began to infuse the Wind Spirit deep into the Longsword that awaited its transformation.
This time, the object was different, the level entirely distinct.
The Secret Silver Longsword’s unobstructed network for Magic Power was like a vast, boundless ocean, instantly accepting and responding to the guidance of his Spiritual Power.
There was no longer any need to carefully circumvent impurities or mend fractures; he was faced with a foundation of pure and resilient Mithril.
The power of the [Elemental Imprint] was raised to an unprecedented level of intensity and precision.
His Spiritual Power was no longer a carving knife, but had transformed into an invisible Storm, surging precisely into the depths of the sword.
It was no longer simple guidance. He had to completely brand the essence of the Wind Element—that unparalleled sharpness, swiftness, and will to tear all things asunder—into every inch of the Longsword’s metallic lattice, merging it with the blade’s own perfect affinity for Magic Power.
A gale seemed to surge silently through the forge.
The forge fire was suppressed by an invisible force, and light bent and refracted violently across the sword’s body.
Deep within the silvery blade, countless fine, brilliant veins began to light up like a stellar storm, far more complex and profound than those on the Dagger, containing a terrifying Energy.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on Roland’s temples as he threw his entire being into this deep resonance and fusion with the Wind Spirit.
After an unknown amount of time, the invisible Storm suddenly subsided.
The forge fire leaped up again, and the light returned to normal.
The Secret Silver Longsword lay quietly on the anvil, its body suffused with a cold, silvery light—so restrained it was almost imperceptible, yet seemingly sharp enough to slice through space itself.
The intricate, star-chart-like veins on the blade’s surface slowly faded, leaving behind only an edge purer than moonlight and colder than Ice.
Roland let out a long breath, wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, and was just about to examine his work more closely when...
Several lines of ancient, mysterious text, as if etched by time itself, appeared without warning on the blade’s mirror-smooth surface, glowing with an indescribable faint light.
"What is..."
Roland’s breath caught in his throat.
His gaze was locked onto the strange phenomenon.
The script was completely unfamiliar, belonging to no language system he knew.
They twisted and coiled, their lines stark and ancient, exuding an indescribable pressure and profundity. As if bearing a weighty history and immense Power beyond comprehension, they flowed silently across the silvery surface of the blade.
Roland subconsciously leaned closer, holding his breath.
Under his focused gaze, the structure and glow of the characters seemed to undergo subtle, imperceptible changes, like a deep, starry sky slowly rotating, drawing his consciousness bit by bit into that bottomless, ancient mystery...
"BANG! BANG! BANG!"
A series of clear and somewhat urgent knocks suddenly rang out from outside the forge door, instantly shattering the stagnant silence within.
The knocking was like a clap of thunder, jolting Roland’s nearly entranced consciousness awake.
When he blinked again, the mysterious script on the sword was gone without a trace, the surface once again as smooth as a mirror, as if it had never been there at all.
