Translator: CinderTL
"It's done," Roland murmured, his voice unusually clear in the silent forge.
He spread his palm, carefully examining the newly forged mithril dagger.
It lay quietly in his hand, its entire surface radiating a restrained, silvery luster, like solidified liquid starlight.
The stardust-fine luminous veins on the blade weren't static; deep within the metal, they pulsed with an imperceptible slowness, like the breathing of a slumbering giant beast.
A pure and potent wind elemental energy was perfectly bound within the slender metal, forming a stable yet dynamic core.
Roland gently stroked the blade's edge with his thumb, applying no pressure.
Yet the moment his skin made contact, after a barely perceptible resistance, the air beneath his fingertip seemed to part silently.
He could even "feel" the wind element spontaneously converging and flowing toward the blade's tip, forming an invisible, razor-sharp edge.
Witnessing this, Roland grabbed a practice iron ingot.
He casually swung the dagger down.
There was no grating friction, no sparks flying, only an extremely faint hiss.
The iron ingot was sliced through as smoothly as a hot knife through butter, leaving a mirror-like, flawless surface.
"This level of sharpness..." Roland murmured, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Even compared to his own Mithril Longsword, now free from its curse, this newly forged dagger likely surpassed it in pure cutting power.
Overwhelmed with delight, Roland curled his fingers and lightly tapped the dagger's spine with his knuckle.
Ting!
A remarkably crisp, slightly thin resonance rang out.
Sensing a faint vibration in the dagger, he immediately stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The feedback from his Material Empathy surged into his mind.
Beneath the Stardust-like veins, he could clearly "see" the microscopic impurities, like tiny submerged reefs, and the nearly invisible micro-cracks left by the raw material's rough mining.
These flaws hadn't vanished in the dagger's perfect form; they had merely been forcibly contained, with the mana guided around them by the runes of the Elemental Imprint.
"It's still just crushed ore..." Roland murmured to himself, a mix of understanding and regret in his voice.
The dagger's sharpness stemmed from the Elemental Imprint, which channeled the power of the wind element to its extreme, solidifying it along the blade's edge to create a field of sharpness that transcended the material itself.
However, its durability was limited by the inherent nature of the materials.
Impurities and internal flaws severely weakened the metal's toughness and overall strength.
This meant the dagger possessed the sharpness to slice through refined steel, yet its brittle nature made it prone to shattering during a single violent parry or impact.
It was a flawless masterpiece of enchantment, yet also like a delicate crystal vessel, requiring its user to handle its inherent fragility with utmost care.
Roland shook his head slightly, showing no sign of disappointment.
Seeking a perfect weapon wasn't his primary reason for acquiring these mithril scraps.
To him, these low-grade offcuts weren't valuable for their final form, but rather as an ideal training ground—a relatively inexpensive platform for real-world experimentation with mithril, a metal with inherent magical properties.
Crafting small enchanted tools was secondary; accumulating experience in applying the Elemental Imprint to mithril substrates was his true objective.
The forge roared back to life, casting its glow on Roland's focused figure.
He no longer attempted to forge weapons, instead concentrating on crafting small consumables like arrows and throwing knives.
Repeat, fail, adjust, repeat.
Each engraving was practice, each failure a lesson learned.
From initial clumsiness, he gradually mastered the subtle rhythm of guiding wind elements within the mithril.
From cautiously avoiding impurities, he learned to more efficiently harness every trace of magical affinity within the material.
The repetitive forging acted as a silent refinement, honing his mental power control to ever finer precision and deepening his understanding of how Elemental Imprints synergized with mithril's unique properties.
You have successfully completed an Elemental Imprint, gaining one experience point.
You have successfully completed an Elemental Imprint, gaining...
You have successfully completed...
Time slipped away unnoticed. As golden subtitles continuously flashed across his vision, Roland paused when the last fragment of mithril ore in his hand transformed into a throwing knife crackling with sharp wind energy.
A profound sense of confidence, born from understanding the essence of things, settled in his eyes.
The trickle of experience had coalesced, completing a qualitative transformation.
The time had come.
His gaze settled on his waist.
This longsword, which had accompanied him for so long, was the ultimate test of his Elemental Imprint technique.
Roland unfastened the longsword and carefully placed it on the forging platform.
He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and focused his mind to its peak state.
His fingertips brushed the cool sword's spine, instantly activating Material Empathy. The pure mithril's flawless magic power affinity became vividly clear.
Then, he pressed his hands lightly against the sword's surface. His vast mental power, like an invisible tide, began to flow deep into the longsword, infusing it with the Essence of Wind.
This time, the target was different, the level of complexity far greater.
The Mithril Longsword's unobstructed mana network, like a boundless ocean, instantly accepted and responded to the guidance of his mental power.
No longer needing to meticulously avoid impurities or repair cracks, he faced a foundation of pure, resilient mithril.
The power of Elemental Imprint reached unprecedented levels of strength and precision.
His mental power no longer acted as a carving tool, but transformed into an invisible storm, surging with pinpoint accuracy into the depths of the sword.
This was no longer a simple channeling; it was about imprinting the very essence of the wind element—its unparalleled sharpness, swiftness, and the will to tear through all things—deep into every crystalline lattice of the longsword, fusing it seamlessly with the weapon's inherent magical affinity.
Within the forge, an invisible tempest seemed to rage silently.
The furnace fire was forced low by an unseen force, its light violently distorted and refracted across the sword's surface.
Deep within the silver-bright blade, countless intricate, star-storm-like patterns began to glow—far more complex and profound than those on the dagger, pulsing with terrifying energy.
Fine beads of sweat trickled down Roland's forehead as he poured his entire being into this profound resonance and fusion with the Essence of Wind.
After what felt like an eternity, the invisible tempest abruptly subsided.
The furnace fire leaped back to life, and the light returned to normal.
The Mithril Longsword lay quietly on the forging platform, its entire length radiating an intensely restrained yet space-cleavingly cold silver radiance.
The star map-like patterns on the blade slowly faded, leaving behind a sharpness purer than moonlight and colder than glacial ice.
Roland exhaled deeply, wiping the sweat from his brow. Just as he was about to examine the weapon closely...
Ancient, enigmatic characters, as if etched by time itself, suddenly glowed faintly on the sword's mirror-smooth surface, shimmering with an indescribable ethereal light.
"What is this..."
Roland's breath caught in his throat. His gaze locked onto the strange phenomenon.
The characters were utterly unfamiliar, belonging to no language system he recognized. They twisted and coiled, their lines rigid and archaic, radiating an indescribable aura of majesty and profound depth. They seemed to carry the weight of an incomprehensible history and boundless power, flowing silently across the silver-bright blade.
Roland instinctively leaned closer, holding his breath. Under his focused gaze, the characters' structure and luminescence seemed to subtly shift, like the slow rotation of a deep starry sky, gradually drawing his consciousness into their bottomless ancient mysteries...
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A series of clear, slightly hurried knocks suddenly echoed from outside the silent forge, shattering the room's stillness.
The sound struck Roland's ears like thunder, jolting him awake from his near-trance.
When he blinked again, the mysterious characters had vanished without a trace from the sword's mirror-smooth surface, as if they had never existed.
(End of the Chapter)
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