Hachiman followed Goddess Hephaestus through the discreet door, leaving behind the polished shine and commercial atmosphere of the main shop. The environment changed instantly. The air grew warmer, thick with the acrid smell of burning coal, hot metal, and sweat. The rhythmic sound of hammers striking metal echoed in the distance, coming from larger, busier forges elsewhere in the underground complex, but the area Hephaestus led him to was quieter, seeming like a private workshop or testing area. There were a few smaller forges, anvils of varying sizes, cooling tanks, and an impressive array of tools hanging on walls or organized on sturdy workbenches.
Hephaestus stopped before one of the smaller forges, which looked clean and well-maintained, but not recently used. Beside it, on a sturdy stone bench, was a selection of materials: metal ingots Hachiman didn't immediately recognize, but which seemed to be of good quality, carbon steel bars, pieces of wood for hilts, leather strips.
The goddess turned to him, her single reddish-brown eye fixed on his. "The materials are here," she said, her voice calm but with an implied tone of command. She gestured towards the forge and the workbench. "Build something."
Hachiman blinked. 'Build... something? Just like that? With no further instructions?' He looked at the forge, at the materials, then back at Hephaestus, who simply crossed her arms, waiting. Tsubaki had positioned herself near the entrance of the area, observing everything with an interest bordering on amusement.
'She wants to test me,' Hachiman realized. 'She felt that "resonance," my Blacksmith I ability, and wants to see what I can actually do. The problem is, I don't know how to do anything. All I have are the fragmented memories from Trace On.' He felt a drop of cold sweat trickle down his temple, despite the heat of the room. Refusing would probably be an insult. Trying and failing miserably would be humiliating.
'I have no choice,' he decided. 'I need to try using what I learned... or rather, what I absorbed.' He thought of the objects he had "traced." The simple sword from the Grizzled Blacksmith, the rusty sword from the old adventurer. They were the only things he had any conceptual familiarity with in terms of construction. 'A sword, then. It's the most logical.'
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Hachiman approached the forge. He inspected the materials, trying to identify the carbon steel that seemed most suitable for a simple blade. He vaguely remembered the process he had "seen" in the Grizzled Blacksmith's mind. Lighting the forge was the first step – something he had never done, but the phantom muscle memory guided him minimally. He grabbed the bellows, pumping air until the embers came to life and the coal began to glow with intense heat.
Then came the hard part. He selected a steel bar and, using tongs that felt strangely familiar in his hands (thank you, Trace On), placed the metal into the heart of the forge. He waited, watching the color change, trying to judge the right moment to start shaping it, relying purely on the echoes of others' experience.
The work that followed was arduous and clumsy. He took the glowing metal to the anvil and began hammering. His blows were hesitant at first, often missing the ideal angle or force. The sound he produced wasn't the rhythmic, confident ring of a master smith, but the uneven thuds of a beginner struggling against the material. He sweated profusely from the heat and exertion, the smoke irritating his eyes. Time and again, he had to stop, consult the fragmented memories in his mind – the way the Grizzled Blacksmith turned the piece, how he used different parts of the hammer, how he selectively cooled certain areas. It was a process of trial and error guided by secondhand data. He didn't have the instinct, the intuition of a true artisan, only imitation based on absorbed information.
Hephaestus and Tsubaki watched in silence. Hephaestus maintained a neutral expression, but her single eye followed Hachiman's every move with analytical attention. Tsubaki had a slight smile on her face, clearly amused by the sight of the clumsy boy trying to impress the Goddess of the Forge.
After a time that felt like an eternity to Hachiman – perhaps an hour or more of strenuous work – he finally had something resembling a short sword. The blade wasn't perfectly straight, the edge was uneven, and the wood and leather hilt he had improvised looked functional but crude. It was far, far from the masterpieces in the shop, but it was, undeniably, a forged sword. Exhausted, he plunged it into the cooling tank with a loud hiss and placed it on the anvil.
Hephaestus approached. She picked up the still-hot sword with her gloved hands, its weight seeming insignificant to her. She analyzed the blade against the forge light, checked the balance, ran a finger (protected by the glove) along the uneven edge.
As she examined the piece with a critical eye, she asked casually, without taking her eyes off the sword, "What was a boy like you, who clearly has some affinity for the forge, doing in my shop looking for cheap equipment?"
Hachiman, still catching his breath, answered honestly. It was easier than inventing a lie. "I'm a new adventurer, Level 1. I managed to save up 20,000 Valis in my first week and came hoping to find some basic armor piece, maybe made by an apprentice or novice blacksmith, that I could afford."
Hephaestus finished her analysis and placed the sword back on the anvil. "You must not have forged many times," she stated, which was an understatement. "The technique is raw, inconsistent. You are clearly a beginner." She paused, and Hachiman braced himself for the full critique. "But..." she continued, and there was a touch of genuine surprise in her voice, "...for a beginner who seems to be working more from instinct or memory than formal training, it's not bad. The basic structure is correct, the heat treatment was minimally adequate, and the balance isn't terrible. It's a functional sword."
Hachiman felt a mixture of relief and shame. 'Functional' coming from the Goddess of the Forge was probably a compliment at his level, but it also highlighted how far he was. Impulsively, perhaps out of gratitude for the not entirely negative evaluation or the opportunity to use a real forge, he gestured towards the sword. "Hephaestus-sama, please accept it. As thanks for letting me use your forge and materials."
Hephaestus seemed taken aback by the gesture. She looked at the simple, imperfect sword, then at Hachiman. She hesitated for a moment, which was unusual for her. Then, a faint blush rose on her cheeks, almost imperceptible against her fair skin. "I... Well... If you insist." She picked up the sword again, this time holding it a little more carefully.
"Ohoho! Look at this, Chief!" Tsubaki's amused voice cut through the moment. The Amazon approached with a wide grin. "Receiving handmade gifts from young admirers now? And even blushing! What a rare sight!"
The blush on Hephaestus's face visibly intensified. "Sh-shut up, Tsubaki!" she stammered, shooting an irritated look at her captain. "I-it's nothing like that! I-I was just..." She seemed completely lost for words. Turning abruptly, she mumbled, "Wait here, kid!" and hurried out of the forge area, still holding the sword Hachiman had made.
Hachiman stood there, blinking, while Tsubaki laughed openly. The Amazon then turned to him, her single eye sparkling with playful malice. "Well, well, kid. You've got talent, huh? Not only do you catch the Chief's attention, but you even make her flustered with a gift? What a heartthrob! Should we call you the 'Conqueror of the Forge'?"
'Heartthrob? Me?' Hachiman felt his own face heat up. 'She's just kidding, but this is embarrassing...' He averted his gaze, unsure how to respond to the Amazon captain's teasing.
Fortunately, Hephaestus returned before Hachiman's embarrassment could escalate. She carried a medium-sized wooden box. Her composure had returned, although a faint pink hue still lingered on her cheeks. She placed the box on the workbench in front of Hachiman.
"Here," she said, her voice professional again, perhaps slightly more rushed than usual. "I was working on this some time ago. A casual attempt, a design study for light armor. It's nothing special, but it should serve for a Level 1 like you."
Hachiman opened the box curiously. Inside, carefully nestled in a velvet lining, was a set of light armor. A breastplate that looked made of a dark, sturdy metal, yet surprisingly light, with a simple but elegant design. There was also a matching pair of bracers and greaves. It didn't look like a "casual attempt" at all. The quality was evident even to his untrained eyes.
"A 'casual attempt' from the Chief?" Tsubaki snorted beside him, peeking over his shoulder. "Kid, you should kneel and give thanks! Even an experienced Level 2 adventurer would be green with envy to receive a set like this made by Hephaestus herself! This is worth a fortune!"
Hachiman looked from the armor to Hephaestus, stunned. "Hephaestus-sama... I can't accept this. It's too much..."
"Nonsense," Hephaestus cut him off, avoiding his gaze. "Like I said, it was just a study. It was just sitting here. It's better if someone uses it. Consider it... an incentive." She cleared her throat. "And one more thing. Your work at the forge... it was raw, but I sensed potential there. If you want to practice, you can come use this forge when you need to. Speak with Tsubaki at the entrance."
Hachiman was speechless for a moment. Custom armor made by the Goddess and free access to her forges? This was... far more than he could have imagined when he entered the shop. "Thank you, Hephaestus-sama. Truly. I..." he began, but Tsubaki interrupted him with a teasing grin.
"You better go now, heartthrob. Before the Chief decides to charge you for the forging lesson too!"
Feeling the embarrassment return full force under Tsubaki's amused gaze and Hephaestus's now impatient expression, Hachiman quickly closed the armor box. "Th-thank you again, Hephaestus-sama, Tsubaki-san!" He bowed hastily and practically fled the forge area, clutching the box as if it were stolen treasure. He barely registered the path back through the main shop, stepping out into the open air with his heart still racing from the strange and unexpectedly fruitful sequence of events.