Chương 51: Sword

Rowan When Rowan arrived at the Stone Dragon Refinery, there was already a commotion.

"I told you, I'm not taking commissions right now," said Master Luzon sternly. The visitor threw himself on the ground, tears beading in the corners of his eyes.

"But please, sir, this lowly one has come all this way just to-""Just to participate in the tournament," said Luzon. Rowan had never seen such a pitiable person. A grown man crying like this… He wore the sect robes of Halfmoon House. He was as pretty as a girl, but with a certain male angularity to his nose and jaw, and he was tall and thin. Even the well-trained, always silent forge workers were whispering to each other and pointing, remarking on his refined appearance.

Beautiful like the moon, and a little bit crazy. Those were the disciples of Halfmoon House. The visitor crawled on the ground, clutching at Master Luzon's hem.

"I won't make it without a weapon. Please, great master, if you can find it in your heart to toss a few scraps over, you will save this one's small and insignificant life…"

"You may purchase a weapon from any one of my students. They do good work." Just then, another person entered the forge. Someone that Rowan did recognize. Zarian?

"Forgemaster Luzon, this one is known as—" Zarian stared at the man frozen on the floor, fingers still clutching Master Luzon's hem. The man stared back.

"Izar Icanthus? What the hell are you doing here?" Hang on, this was Izar? The star cultivator of Halfmoon House, who had won the last tournament?

"GET OUT!" roared Master Luzon, pointing at the exit.

"Commissions are closed. Commissions have been closed for more than a decade. They continue to be closed. Stone Dragon Refinery has many promising students, you may buy a sword from one of them." Izar and Zarian scrambled to leave the forge. Master Luzon listened to them go, shaking his head. Rowan watched the two for a second longer. He saw Izar aim a nasty sucker punch at the side of Zarian's head, sending Zarian crashing into the cobblestones. Izar was hissing some terrible words at him.

Zarian clutched his head, groaning in pain.

"This kind of violence does not befit a gentleman!" Seriously? These core disciples all really knew each other, it seemed.

"You called for me, Master Luzon?" Rowan asked.

"Rowan Helsing," decided Master Luzon. He sighed and led Rowan into the heart of the forge.

"I said that when I was ready for some assistance with the forging, I would let you know. And now you know." Rowan nodded.

"We'll be forging a five element sword," explained Luzon, getting straight to the point.

"You provided Setting Sun Seabreeze Dew, a Water qi material. The branch of a Long Life Fig Tree, a Wood qi material. And I provided the Five Color Qi Metal ingots, a Metal qi material, and as for Fire, the spiritual fire of my forge will do."

"And the Earth qi?" asked Rowan.

"Through trial and error, I found a suitable Earth qi material, the claw of a Mountain Tiger native to this region. Those will be our five elemental materials." Luzon pointed at the red hot block of molten metal that sat on his anvil.

"That is your sword. All the five elements, incorporated together. Now we must find its shape."

"What about the feather of the Seven Winds Thunder Phoenix?" asked Rowan.

"The feather needs to be folded within the metal, not melted into it. It is the beating heart that makes this a qi artifact." They walked over to the molten block.

"How much do you know about your Forgegod Spirit Root?" Rowan decided to be honest.

"Very little."

"It's a rare variety of Spirit Root," explained Master Luzon.

"Your spirit root is a forge. It strives to build. You can take in any element of qi, forging it into something compatible with your system. When you use your own qi, it carries that purpose. We will be using your qi today. Watch closely." Master Luzon grabbed a hammer, the top so heavy it scraped against the ground with a keening wail as he tried to lift it. Before he hit the block, he expelled a qi blast from his body onto the block, the red flashing white for a moment, and then hit it with the hammer.

"The hammer carries the intent of your qi in your motions. It becomes an extension of the arm that lifts it."

"Just expel my qi?" asked Rowan in confusion. He had been able to do that the moment he had formed his Qi Sea. It wasn't a difficult technique at all.

"Which apertures are preferred?" Luzon pointed to several spots on his hand to guide Rowan.

"You shouldn't worry too much about that. Detail is distinction, and you are trying to join your will with the hammer, not separate it." This was a novel concept to Rowan. A qi technique that didn't specify the ways it had to be channeled effectively? What was Forging anyway?

"Forging is beating things with hammers and sticking them in fire," said Luzon, as if he'd heard Rowan's thoughts.

"All of it, in theory, is very simple." He beckoned Rowan over and offered him the hammer.

"And yet, I have boys who have been under my apprenticeship for ten years, and they still can't fully grasp it." Rowan hesitantly clutched the object, his lungs losing their breath as he buckled from the weight of it. It was surely heavier than Rowan. Perhaps even heavier than Lee.

"Have you joined your qi with any objects before?"

"I have," said Rowan.

"Once, I coated a mortal sword in my qi. Something peculiar happened. It began to spout metal vines and leaves, like a living thing." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"That's your Spirit Root at work," said Luzon.

"I thought that had to have been an effect of my Wood qi."

"No, that is certainly an effect of your Forgegod Spirit Root," said Luzon.

"Reconciling, perhaps, your Wood qi with the metal in your hands. The Forgegod Spirit Root is known for its recalcitrant behavior. It is strange that you are able to cultivate at all." Master Luzon didn't have to be the one to tell Rowan how difficult his early journey had been.

"There are times when separating the qi created by your path in cultivation is necessary. This sort of relation between Wood and the Forgegod is such an example. Your wood qi must be kept independent from your acts of forging, like how the focus of this sword must be independent." He gave Rowan a moment to consider his words as he heated the molten steel to a brighter temperature. When it began to glow white, Luzon jerked his chin toward the metal block.

"We will be folding the metal into a thousand layers." Rowan was excited.

"A sword folded a thousand times?"

"Yes, a thousand layers. It will require thirty-two folds to produce a sword with that many. Now give it a try." Rowan nodded, blasting the block of metal with his qi. The metal took on a greenish hue from the saturation of his qi.

"Good," said Luzon. With a grunt of effort Rowan brought the hammer down, squashing the block a few centimeters down. Luzon made a noise of approval. The blind old man brought up a pair of large tongs which had been resting on the floor and rotated the block.

"Again." He did. Every time Rowan brought down the hammer, the metal became harder and harder to fold - a growing resistance that traveled up the handle and into his wrists and shoulders. His qi, at least, was seeping into the metal easier. The entire block glowed emerald green now, even when he wasn't hitting it. Rowan and Luzon formed a rhythm. After Rowan struck the block three times, Luzon would bring the metal to the spiritual fire, reheating it. Rowan relished those moments.

It gave his trembling muscles a rest, but it was also a chance to ask Luzon some questions.

"What kind of spiritual fire is in your forge?" asked Rowan politely.

"A Lesser Yang Fire, of course. Specifically, Binding Lesser Yang Fire. What do you know about the dispositions?"

"Dispositions?"

"You've no doubt read in your scriptures and texts certain key words that tell you about the disposition of different elements."

"Yes, the polarities," said Rowan. The three Yangs and the three Yins. Luzon shook his head.

"Within each polarity, there are dispositions of an element. They are mapped by the Trigrams: Heaven. Earth. Fire. Water. Thunder. Wind. Mountain. Lake. They are not elements. They are not polarities. They are just the nature of how a thing behaves. Those are their dispositions. The disposition of Thunder, that which shakes, is Binding." Instructor Sutter had never mentioned dispositions before. It must have been out of the scope of his lectures, which were designed to introduce a disciple to cultivation.

However, Rowan's parents had never mentioned the idea of dispositions either. But now that Master Luzon had mentioned some of these words specifically, Rowan recalled seeing them in his Ensouled in Wood scripture. Rowan had just thought they were analogies. There was a spell called Undergrowth which the manual had described with that word - Binding. To take an oath under tall trees, to settle sunlight beneath the canopy.

"Binding?" he murmured.

"I would be very, very careful about receiving advice on this topic if I were you," said Ostra. That was all Ostra said.

"There are eight dispositions - eight paths - of Lesser Yang Fire. All you need to know is that we will be using one of them," said Luzon.

"What are the eight paths named?"

"That's not important." Luzon gestured to the fire.

"What is important here is Forge Fire." The block returned to the anvil. They continued until Rowan's arms ached fiercely and his Qi Sea was almost empty.

"Hm. Still needs to be folded eight more times." Rowan tried not to pant, revealing how tired he was.

"I can use a spirit stone."

"There's no need." But Rowan didn't want to quit. He drew at his qi again, but Luzon put his hand on his shoulder.

"Your qi fully incorporated everything together several turns ago. I'll handle the rest. There is something else to do here, after all. Watch the way the qi swirls together." Master Luzon swung the hammer once, then twice. Rowan observed the motion, the strands of Lesser Yang Fire qi surging from the forge. Binding. Again. And again. Why was this Binding? What about it- Rowan saw it in an instant. The Lesser Yang Fire qi sheathed the metal moments before the hammer struck, each and every time.

It was not simply heating the metal and infusing it with qi as Rowan had thought. No, the qi was scaffolding the metal as it took shape. It was the mould that Luzon was hammering the sword into. Lesser Yang was the polarity of transformations. The fire bound the metal as it became something new - a sword. In the final folding, Luzon brought out the black feather. He gave the feather to Rowan.

"Place it yourself." A very significant feeling came over Rowan. This was it. The final shaping of his qi sword. This feather would bring it to life. As he gently placed the feather onto the steel, a bit of Sharp qi lashed out, cutting across his fingers. Blood trickled onto the feather - onto the hot metal, where it hissed angrily. Rowan cursed. He opened his mouth, fearing he had ruined everything, when Luzon hushed him.

"Why do you think I had you place the feather?" With a final heave of the hammer, the metal was folded over the black feather. This was the last fold. The metal was a long, thin bar, still red hot from the forge. Master Luzon took the bar and quenched it into a vat of oil. The bar struggled in the tongs like a serpent, oil splashing everywhere. Rowan thought of the feather of the Seven Winds Thunder Phoenix, which had only selected him after its test of bravery. Or, perhaps, daring.

A feather that would rather wait a thousand years without being chosen than to select the wrong master.

"A sword needs a name," said Master Luzon gruffly.

"A name informs the nature."

"Promise," Rowan named the sword. And his future bloomed before him, a promise. He was young - promising. This was a new sword and he was a new cultivator. They both held a lot of promise. Rowan could not think of a more meaningful name than Promise. The metal stopped struggling. As it lost its malleability, it began to take its true form. The sword was pale as scoured bone - thin and light. The character for the word Promise etched into the base of the metal near the hilt.

It gleamed brightly for a moment before dimming. The sword had accepted the name. Rowan wrapped his fingers around the wooden hilt, marveling at how balanced the sword felt in his hand.

"Push your qi through it," said Master Luzon. He did. A faint echo of a screeching bird cut through the air, impressions of blood-red flowers blooming inside the groove of the blade. Rowan was very pleased with his qi sword.

"Good work," said Luzon.

"I will call for you when you are needed to forge again." Was that it? Rowan stared at his newly made sword as he ambled out of Luzon's side of the building. Luzon's disciples hadn't moved from their furnaces, but most of them were openly staring, and continued to do so as Rowan exited the Stone Dragon Refinery. Rowan had barely taken a step outside when he stopped short, sensing a threatening presence waiting for him.

"I see your sword is finished. It's a quality piece, clearly one of the Forgemaster's best," said Barrett, who had clearly been waiting here with his lackeys for Rowan to come out.

"As you promised, it's time for our duel." He smirked, an unstable light gleaming in his black eyes.

"And when I win… I'll pry that sword out of your cold, dead fingers!" Rowan glanced down at his sword.

"I did promise that, didn't I?" The sword chilled, Sharp qi emanating from it.