The cold was noticeably harsher today,
I entered my workshop while rubbing my hands together. Pulling the
lever on the wall, I warmed my hands over the furnace that
immediately ignited, burning red hot. The thudding sound of the
waterwheel remained the same at least, but the early winter right now
was already this cold. If midwinter were to come and the small river
at the back freezes over, I was worried over just what would happen
to me.
I thought hard for a short while before coming to my senses with a
start, and consulted my scheduler. There were still eight items piled
up in the list of orders due today. The day will soon come to an end if
I don't hurry and settle them.
The first order was a lightweight-type one-handed straight sword. I
peered through my list of ingots, picking one that was a good
compromise between budget and performance out shortly after, and
tossed it into the furnace.
At this point in time, my mastery of the hammer has increased, and
even got my hands on some new metals, so I have been able to
constantly hit up high leveled weapons. Selecting a time when the fire
has heated to a suitable temperature, I placed the ingot onto the anvil.
Setting up the hammer, I swung it down with great vigor.
But, when speaking about one-handed straight swords— Not a single
sword was able to exceed that particular sword I had forged back in
the summer of this year. That fact is frustrating, yet a relief.
That sword that had buried the fragments of my heart was probably
spiritedly rampaging through the faraway frontlines yet again today.
Although I do tend to it on this very whetstone before my eyes every
now and then, unlike normal weapons, the transparency of its blade
seemed to increase with use. For some reason, it seemed unlike the
numerical consumables that run out sooner or later; it felt more like it
would break apart once its duty has been completed— that was what I
predicted.
But well, that was probably still a future that wouldn't be here anytime
soon. The frontlines were now on the seventy-fifth floor. That sword
would still have to work on for longer still. Within the right hand of
that person— Kirito's.
When I noticed, it seemed that I have already finished hitting it for the
required number of times; the ingot started to change its shape as it
shone with red light. I watched this magical instant pass with my
breath held, and picked up the sword that soon appeared to examine it.
"...Average, I guess."
Murmuring so, I placed that onto the worktable. Without delay, I
