A lot of people were under the impression that smithing only took strength, and that George was some kind of meathead for doing such a thing. Hell, there were several other children of wealthy families that snubbed their noses at him because he'd chosen such a 'rough' looking class whereas they were all about refinement and nobility and all that. George had stopped caring about all that at about 12. If one were to find a certain tree in the courtyard right now, they would see a random inventory screen floating with no apparent user nearby, and they would probably think their Enlil interface needed a reboot. However, that was in fact George's tablet skill [color=firebrick][b]<>[/b][/color], a pocket dimension within the Enlil Network itself. He didn't have a free period next, in fact he'd been missing class intermittently throughout the previous day and today as well. Skipping classes only a week into school was surely the sign of a rebellious oaf, uncaring of his own family's image, but to be fair, he was doing something important. Okay, so not really. Mostly he just didn't want to come. He'd spent the time forging Damascus Steel. It was a good demonstration of why an enterprising Blacksmith had to be well-rounded, and not focus solely on strength. To make it you had to slowly heat and then cool iron ore and charcoal in a crucible, over a period of 24-48 hours, and you would have to repeat the process until the carbon completely mixed in with the iron to create the steel. Then, after making the ingot, you had to make sure to hammer it at a low temperature compared to other metals. Precise temperature control, at least with a traditional forge, needs a healthy mix of dexterity and perception. He could learn to do it without either stat, but it would be harder to get consistently good results without the stats. The Jordas family was all about the consistent quality of their weapons. In fact, Damascus Steel was one of their signature techniques in the olden days. It could vastly improve the quality of a blade made with low-quality materials, and had superior edge retention and durability. Modern techniques and wider availability of higher quality steels led to the art slowly fading away, until only modern hobbyists really made it. He needed intelligence to be able to research lost techniques, or pinpoint the origins of modern techniques and adapt them to a traditional forge. One might ask why he should even bother with something like that, and the answer was his unique skill [b][color=firebrick]<>[/color][/b]. Weapons had a 'soul' of sorts but it wasn't something like a consciousness, although they did also have something similar. Each weapon has a certain pride. Pride in their appearance, the pride of being used, or the pride of surviving countless battles all led to the creation of a 'soul'. [b][color=firebrick]<>[/color][/b] allowed him to blur those distinctions and allowed him to bring out the soul of a weapon just by making it himself. Of course, since the weapon hadn't been through any battles to forge its own characteristics, any extra capabilities were bound to be simple. They were mostly tied to their physical nature, and what was outstanding about them in that respect. To that end, forging this Damascus Steel sword was mostly for experimentation. How would it change based on using different techniques? The final swing of the hammer rang out. [color=firebrick][b]"...Phew, alright, now for the final step."[/b][/color] George said, wiping sweat off his brow. He put the newly hammered blade back into the forge. After hammering was completed, the blade needed to be heated until it was cherry red. Then he would need to quench it, which was where the real sticking point was. Damascus was a delicate material to forge with. There were many ways to quench a sword after forging which changed the way the blade ended up. Quench the sword in something too cold and it would crack and become brittle. Quench it in something too hot and it'd end up too soft. The closer you ride the tightrope, the better the results, and to ride that line as close as he possibly could he was using an acid solution to quench this sword. An acid solution cools in possibly the quickest time, but it also had the highest chance of cracking the blade. He'd practiced as much as he could with acid quenching but he hadn't done it on Damascus Steel yet because it took too long to make himself. It would be alright if he failed, but he didn't want to fail. He pulled the blade out of the forge at just the right time. He quickly scooted over to the barrel which had his acid solution. He plunged the blade into it, set a timer on the Enlil Network's time interface, and then began stirring the solution with a metal rod. It was important to clear the steam from quenching by stirring the liquid because it would cool the blade even faster. Once the blade was at room temperature the quenching was finished, but even high levels of perception would have trouble judging when that was without experience. Through his testing with acid quenching he'd developed a base-line based on the temperature he would be heating the Damascus Steel to which was now counting down on the timer. [color=firebrick][i]3, 2, 1...[/i][/color] He counted off. He pulled the blade out just as the timer hit 0. No cracks. He breathed a sigh of relief as he moved it back to the anvil and wiped off the remaining acid. It came out exactly as he'd wanted it to. The way to tell the difference between true Damascus Steel and a pattern welded steel sword was that Damascus Steel's pattern was much more chaotic. Pattern welds could have long lines whereas Damascus is almost truly random. The blade he made was for a scimitar. He only had the blade right now, and it would eventually need to be tempered, attached to the handle and sharpened, but that could wait until later. Even in its current state he could test out his hypothesis. He put held it up by the end and said [b][color=firebrick]"<>!"[/color][/b]. A yellowish aura spread along the length of the blade. It wobbled and pulsated, its shape similar to the blade's pattern. The other acid quenched weapons he'd made didn't do this, it looked like the pattern was the reason for the difference. He put a gloved finger to the blade and quickly drew it back once the blade started hissing. A little bit of the fingertip was smoking. [b][color=firebrick]"Acid, huh?"[/color][/b] He said. It looked like the blade's power was acid. It seemed to be a lot stronger than normal acid, but was the range was limited to contact. He released his skill and the aura faded. It seemed like the pattern glowed yellow in places as well. It seemed to be a success but George felt like the blade was... incomplete. Not just because he didn't actually have it in the handle yet, but because he didn't have much more he could really do with it. Maybe when he'd leveled up some more he could, but for now, it was time to get back to class. [hr] [b][color=firebrick]"Fuck, that took way too long."[/color][/b] He muttered, stretching a bit. Normally he was mild with his talking but he allowed himself some profanity every so often. He checked the time to confirm that it was the end of second period. 3rd period had a class he wanted to go to but there was somewhere he had to go to first. He looked up from the courtyard towards a certain room on the second floor. The Monster Hunting Club. Since he had a lot of spare time due to not really accepting duels and not formally being part of any club, he did repairs for the Monster Hunting club to polish his skills. Just a bit of sharpening, a bit or readjustment, that sort of thing. He had a bunch of weapons from the first and second years who weren't very good at keeping them in shape themselves. He'd also gained a reputation for it, as people had reportedly said that their weapons seemed sharper than normal, or something like that. The reason he didn't really accept duels was because he got challenged a lot. Try as they might, they hadn't been able to keep it a secret that Díno Bando, the rising star of the Jordas family who had at first seemed to have long since left George in the dust, was not only defeated by him in an unofficial duel but was also put into the hospital for quite some time. Díno was a holy terror in ranked matches. He never even needed to use his tablet skill to win fights, not that anyone knew what it was. And George, scruffy-looking tardy George, beat him that badly? He got so many requests from people trying to find out how strong he was, but it's not like he could show them that easily. Most of his combat effectiveness was pure lethality. You take a hand-grenade to the face and it isn't going to end well for you. He didn't really have anything besides that so it wasn't a good idea to fight people he could potentially lose to without it. He still had a reputation to uphold that wasn't just his. He looked up towards the club room windows, one was open. Sure he could go inside and take the stairs but this was faster. He climbed up a nearby tree and jumped for the sill. He caught it with one arm and used the other to stop himself from smacking into the wall and making a scene. He pulled himself up to the open window and stepped up. To his surprise, Aito was right in front of him. [b][color=firebrick]"I finished all the repairs,"[/color][/b] He said, fishing around in his inventory. One thing he'd found out was that if he went to his tablet skill screen he could take out the crates from inside [color=firebrick][b]<>[/b][/color]. It worked sort of weirdly because putting another crate inside [color=firebrick][b]<>[/b][/color] didn't work and it got ejected out when George exited like everything else did that wasn't on the anvil, a weapon rack, or in the forge. A crate of weapons would normally still be too heavy for George but it just slipped out when he did it this way. He knew mostly everyone in the Monster Hunting club because he came around so often. He mostly did repairs but he did make a weapon for some of their members to practice with. Adding monster materials did interesting things sometimes, but not too often. [b][color=firebrick]"Oh, dude, you're going to catch a cold or something,"[/color][/b] George said, noticing Vetalla in the club room. She looked a bit tired, but she always seemed to look tired. He opened his normal inventory and took out a folded towel. He smelled it quickly to make sure it was a clean one, before using [b]<>[/b] to toss it at her. It opened in mid-air just as he wanted it to, and if she didn't dodge it would wrap around her head. [b][color=firebrick]"Always gotta dry your hair properly."[/color][/b] He said. Then he turned back to Aito. [b][color=firebrick]"I'm gonna go to class unless you got something for me, class ain't that important for me anyway."[/color][/b] [@Redward][@RyuShura]