WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Chen
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◈ The Occult World’s Coveted Blacksmith ◈
Chapter 102: The Blacksmith's Way
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“Now, I’ll inscribe the Ice-Flame Spell Formula into this sword.”
“...!”
“As you saw in the materials earlier, each circuit is designed so it can be switched on or off.”
“Turn on only the flame, and it becomes a flaming sword. Turn on only the ice, and it becomes a freezing sword. Of course, you can turn them both on at once.”
The young man spoke casually.
The audience, however, could not.
He was going to inscribe that into the sword?
Even at a glance, it was an enormous Spell Formula.
Dozens of pages of blueprints. Three sets of circuits that had to be layered over one another.
All of that, inside a single sword?
Even if it could be inscribed, there was no telling how many years it would take.
‘Unless... he already finished some of the engraving?’
Right. Maybe he only intended to show them the final key step.
A project that Korea’s greatest craftsmen had spent decades completing.
Perhaps he had appeared out of nowhere at this unexpected moment, intending to make his world-stage debut by detonating its crowning moment before them like a bomb.
“To think they’d been hiding something like this...”
Rashid muttered without realizing it.
Among East Asian countries, Korea had been particularly unknown when it came to making Ritual Implements.
Rashid had simply assumed it was a wasteland for Ritual Implement crafting.
‘Hmm...?’
But even so, something was strange.
There was no equipment.
No engraving table, no engraving tools, not even a vise to secure the sword.
The only thing the young man had brought was the sword slung across his back.
‘Is someone bringing the equipment in separately?’
Rashid glanced toward the side of the stage.
But there was no sign of an assistant appearing with equipment.
“What I showed you earlier was the basic blueprint. To actually inscribe it, you first need to refine the design to suit the Ritual Implement it’ll be transferred into.”
The young man walked to the front of the platform.
A cylindrical device stood there.
A transparent cylinder connected to the ceiling.
It was filled with clear liquid, while fine red grains like sand lay thickly settled at the bottom.
The Red Sand Projection Implement.
It was a Ritual Implement that used Spiritual Power to lift red sand and instantly render the structure of a Spell Formula in three dimensions.
The several hundred seats were arranged in a fan-shaped, tiered layout around the cylinder.
No matter where one sat, the inside of the cylinder was clearly visible.
‘Is he really going to project everything from those presentation materials?’
‘No way...’
‘That would be difficult even with an entire day.’
Murmur, murmur.
Whispers spread through the audience again.
It was only natural.
The Red Sand Projection Implement was famously difficult to handle.
It was a Ritual Implement that operated entirely through its user’s control over Spiritual Power.
In other words, one had to concentrate, move Spiritual Power to lift the sand, guide it into the desired shapes to draw lines, then pour Spiritual Power into it again to harden those shapes in place.
Put simply, it was a three-dimensional blackboard.
You could think of it as a 3D drawing board operated with a mouse.
There was just one tiny difference: brainwaves took the place of the mouse.
Since every line had to be painstakingly made one by one, it normally took a long time.
That was why it was generally used to visualize simple principles in the middle of lectures.
Even that was not easy.
These days, it mostly just took up space, rarely seeing any use.
But he was going to project those entire presentation materials?
‘This is seriously impossible.’
The young man lightly placed his palm against the cylinder’s surface.
Then.
Whoosh!
The red sand rose.
The grains that had settled on the bottom surged through the cylinder as dozens, then hundreds of red strands.
Each strand raced in a different direction, extending into lines, bending and crossing.
And every line hardened the instant it took shape.
‘Wooooah...!’
‘Oh my God.’
‘Jesus Christ.’
‘How many is he controlling at once?’
‘He’s maintaining Spiritual Power at that thickness...?’
Murmur, murmur.
In the blink of an eye, a circuit blueprint took shape.
Three overlapping layers of circuits.
Thousands of intertwined lines and geometric patterns.
The Spell Formula that had filled dozens of pages had become a massive structure, visualized within the cylinder.
‘Wh-what is that?’
“This is the Ice-Flame Spell Formula I showed you earlier.”
‘That’s impossible.’
‘How did he do that?’
‘I don’t even know what I’m looking at right now.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘Jesus Christ...’
Even after displaying such godlike control of Spiritual Power, the young man showed no sign of strain.
“As you all know, every material has its own innate grain.”
Continuing as though nothing had happened, the young man removed his hand from the cylinder and rested it briefly on the sword blade.
Then he gently closed his eyes.
‘...Is he praying?’
Just as Rashid wondered about it, the young man opened his eyes and placed his palm on the cylinder’s controls.
His fingertips moved slightly.
Several strands of sand split away from the massive structure.
They formed the shape of a long sword, then densely filled its interior with thin wave-like patterns.
The closer they came to the blade’s edge, the narrower the spaces between those patterns became.
“This is the sword’s innate grain.”
“...What?”
Someone let out a dazed noise.
Had he really read the grain in that short moment?
Without a single appraisal implement?
“Is he joking?”
“He touched it once and read the grain of the metal? That’s a lie...!”
At this point, people were even accusing him of deception.
But the young man paid them no mind and moved on.
He wore the expression of someone completely absorbed, as though he could hear nothing at all.
“Now, let’s transfer this design to match the grain.”
The enormous structure slowly shrank, then seeped into the shape of the sword, its branches spreading through it.
Naturally, it did not fit.
The circuits from the blueprint twisted together as they fought against the existing grain.
The young man’s fingertips shifted.
One branch of the blueprint smoothly bent.
Following the direction in which the sword’s grain curled.
“This branch goes against the grain, so we’ll redirect it this way.”
Another branch dispersed and vanished.
“The grain handles this part for us, so there’s no need to inscribe it.”
“Here, the grain itself becomes a wall, so we don’t need a separate barrier layer.”
“If we pull the junction toward the blade tip, we can cut its length in half.”
This went here.
That went there.
Whenever the fingers resting on the controls moved, the Spell Formula settled neatly into place.
Tangled lines unraveled. Overlapping loops merged into one. Unnecessary branches fell away.
Branches that had fought against the grain bent to follow it, while places the grain could handle were left entirely empty.
And with each change, the audience’s mouths slowly fell open.
“No...”
“Good heavens...”
“He’s using the metal’s grain as part of the circuit...?”
Every flick of his finger.
It felt as though hard-won know-how and trade secrets were spilling out with every move.
The sort of tricks one might or might not learn after serving beside a master craftsman for years.
They poured casually from the young man’s mouth.
“Now, it’s still complicated.”
The young man removed his hand.
“But this should be possible to inscribe.”
The circuit within the cylinder had been refined beyond comparison to its original state.
The amount of information that would have taken years to inscribe had been reduced to a few months’ worth.
And it was incredibly clean.
There was not a trace of excess anywhere.
“Of course, it wouldn’t be impossible to inscribe it as it is...”
‘Right, it would still take a few months.’
Rashid calculated silently.
And that was only if not a single mistake was made.
If one slip occurred during the engraving, they would have to start from the beginning.
If it did not succeed on the first try, there was no telling how many years it might take.
“But it would be difficult to finish within a day this way.”
...A day?
Rashid touched the Interpreter Implement in their ear.
Had they heard that wrong?
Right, there had to be some cultural context that the Interpreter Implement had failed to convey.
Perhaps in Korea, “a day” was an idiom meaning several months.
“Now, you simply hold this structure in your mind as you inscribe it.”
The young man lightly tapped his temple with a finger.
“In other words, you imbue it with Imprinted Intent.”
That... was Imprinted Intent?
“I’ll begin.”
The audience stirred.
Begin? With what?
He had no engraving tools.
Before Rashid could even organize his doubts, the young man stood with the sword in hand.
Then he hooked a finger beneath his tie knot.
Slide.
The loosened tie slipped free from his shirt collar.
At that moment.
Hummm.
The air grew heavy.
Goosebumps rose along Rashid’s spine.
‘Ugh...’
‘What kind of blacksmith has this much Spiritual Power...?!’
The young man suddenly raised a hand.
Spiritual Power gathered above his palm.
It was dense enough to see, wavering like heat haze.
‘What is he doing now?’
He was demonstrating something, so why was he gathering Spiritual Power in his hand...?
Then that hand touched the sword blade.
Szzzzzt...!
“...!”
The smell of burning metal suddenly filled the air.
Thin smoke rose from the blade.
And a straight line was engraved wherever his hand passed.
From the hilt to the tip. In a single stroke.
“With his bare hand...?”
Someone spoke in a hollow voice.
“Before connecting the letters, you must first draw the connection circuit.”
“It is where the Spell Formula contained in the letters will be received. And before that, you need to lay down the foundation circuit across the entire sword. That line I just drew is its main branch.”
He placed the hand not holding the sword on top of the cylinder.
The massive blueprint inside scattered.
Then the red sand gathered again into a simple form.
A single straight line running along the sword blade.
And several output branches splitting from that line.
“This end is the input section. This is where the grain gathers, so it is the best place to receive the wielder’s Spiritual Power without strain.”
His palm left the cylinder and returned to the blade.
Sizzle.
“The output sections split toward both edges. That way, flame and ice can be released separately later.”
Back to the cylinder. Back to the sword blade.
Szzzt.
Several small, intricate rings appeared within the cylinder.
Then, in the next instant, his hand touched the sword blade again.
Szt. Szzzt.
“This is the connection circuit. It is where the letters will be inscribed.”
He explained, demonstrated, and engraved.
The three flowed together like water.
The young man seemed like someone who had rehearsed tens of thousands of times.
He never stammered, nor did he hesitate for even a moment.
He moved his hands continuously between the cylinder and the sword blade.
Rashid sat frozen with their pen in hand.
They should have been taking notes. But their hand could not keep up.
No, they could not look away.
Every word the young man spoke was a technique beyond price.
The audience would probably overflow if even one of them were turned into a separate session.
And yet...
The insane control of Spiritual Power.
The dazzling Projection Implement.
And the explanation was so easy to understand.
At this point, Rashid felt as though they were under a spell.
They did not want to look away, even for a moment.
Rashid was utterly captivated by the dreamlike sight of him speaking, moving, and inscribing the Spell Formula as if possessed.
“Now then, the foundation circuits are all inscribed.”
Basic circuits? Having finished those, the young man spoke without even pausing to catch his breath.
“Shall we begin the actual engraving?”
The young man lightly tapped the cylinder.
Whoosh.
The circuit he had earlier refined to fit the grain rose in full inside the cylinder the moment he touched it.
He grinned.
“Now that I’ve formed such a detailed image of it, anyone can inscribe it.”
He raised his index finger.
Spiritual Power gathered at the tip.
As thin as a needle, yet far denser than before.
Then his fingertip raced over the sword blade as though wielding a brush.
Szzzzzzzzzt!
With every stroke, the cylinder reacted to the Spiritual Power waves extending from him and shone.
The sand inside slowly dispersed.
To Rashid, it looked as though the circuit were being drawn into those strokes.
One stroke. Then another.
Rashid unconsciously gripped the armrest.
It was a circuit that controlled opposing properties.
And if he poured in Spiritual Power of such density...
One slip, one loss of balance, and it would run wild right there.
Yet there was no hesitation in those fingertips.
Not a single stroke faltered.
Right. Just like a first-rate talisman sorcerer.
‘That is... how a blacksmith inscribes a Spell Formula with letters...?’
Then.
The instant the final stroke was drawn.
Hummm!
An even fiercer wave of Spiritual Power surged outward.
The red circuit inside the cylinder flashed brightly, then burst apart as though exploding.
The scattered grains of sand sparkled like flying embers as they gently drifted down.
And then.
Nothing remained inside the cylinder.
Only red sand settled silently at the bottom.
“Now, it’s finished.”
It had not even been ten minutes since he had loosened his tie.
“That is how you inscribe a Spell Formula with letters.”
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