Chapter 15 Jackpot!

"Blop!"

"Creating a masterpiece raises the 'bad smithing' ability by two levels!"

Great! Not only I can finally lay my hands of a proper weapon suited to my preferences, I even advanced my smithing skill! If nothing changed from the previous situation, I should be able to reach an even higher realm soon! While another evolvement cost will be probably higher, with my newfound way to quickly earn attribute points, that isn't something I should worry about!

Placing my hand on the hilt of my new weapon, I inspect it thoroughly looking for any kind of flaws. Compared to the one that I gave to Eve, it's shorter and bulkier. If her blade has an eastern vibe to it, my new companion is closer to a bastard-type sword from middle-aged Europe. Without any curve to its line, it's as simple as it could get.

From the quick looks that I managed to take while walking through the sect, most of the cultivators here used either spear, shortsword or katana-like curved blades. As someone with blood traced all the way back to the old continent, I prefer to use the European styled weapons over the eastern ones. While it will probably make me stand out, even more, it is way more important to fight with something one is familiar with instead of using common designs!

As those thoughts wander through my head, I notice that while smithing, my hand unintentionally moved in a similar way that it used to while crafting Eve's weapon. Because of that, when I look closer I can easily distinguish quite a bit of weak points and flaws. Unable to bear the thought of using the spoiled weapon, I smash the sword on the flaming coals in the forge.

While it may sound excessive, my life might depend on the quality of this piece of steel. I won't allow any flaws in it!

As the metal heats up to the point of turning yellowish again, I pick it up with my pliers and place it down on the anvil. Freeing my hands, I grab the hammer with both of them and calculate the angle at which I have to hit to fix my earlier mistakes. When my gut feeling tells me to act, I smash the tool in my hands with a precisely set amount of strength!

A bit too much, and the weapon might break. A bit too less, and the weakness won't be corrected!

Thankfully, with such a high level of smithing, my body can't make a mistake in my state of focus. With just one swing, the small disproportion on the weight is dispelled! While others would be satisfied with the result and enjoy their good work, I inspect the weapon over and over again, this time looking for a spot with a slightly different colour. Whenever I find them, my hand raises the hammer, and smashes it down on the blade for as long as it takes to fix the uneven material!

Maybe because of my sudden advancement in the way of smithing, but this work takes me an entire hour to finish! Only when no matter how long I stare at my weapon - be it when it is heated up or cooled down - I'm unable to spot any flaws, I finally put the tools away and wash the steel from residual dust.

Wiping the blade with a piece of wet cloth, I carefully observe the slight glint on its steely body. Now, I'm finally satisfied with the result of my hard work!

Even if my work as a blacksmith is done, the job of a warrior is still in progress. Every hero in the stories I read back on earth named his trusty weapon. Even the system hinted at this necessary action by highlighting that both of my crafts were unnamed!

But how should I call it from now on? This isn't a light decision to take! Can you imagine a future strongest swordsman in the world brandishing his sword and shouting a line like: Here goes a slash from my Wicked Banana?! Even if not for the sake of my own childishness, I need to give it some thought from the prestige point of view!

Taking the sword to my hand, I run my fingers down its fuller. Closing my eyes, I wait for a thought sparked from the cold feeling of metal on my fingertips when an idea hits me like a warhammer. Suddenly slashing it in the horizontal plane, I embrace the feeling that this movement exudes and speak.

"I hereby name you a Windslord!"

"Blop!"

CRASH

"Naming of the sword is successful"

"Bonus attribute added"

Wait, what?

What the hell caused this loud noise?!

Before even checking up this new added bonus, I open my eyes and raise my sight only to see one of the forges about five meters away falling apart! What happened? Is someone targeting me?

Turning around at my full speed, I slash with my sword at the potential enemy!

Break!

CLANG

CRASH!

Before I even finish my movement, I can see a long cut appearing on an anvil standing near the doors. It's perfectly in line with the slash that I made, but its way to far for my sword to actually reach it! When my strike ends, the entire piece of sturdy metal suddenly falls apart!

Recalling a small line of description of my sword that I ignored earlier, I quickly shout to the Bonger to analyze my beloved weapon!

"Blop"

"Windslord +3 - ranger sword of bastard type"

"Requirement to use: twenty-five strength, fifteen agility."

"The best masterpiece made by Bart's hand up to this date. It is designed to create trouble for enemies! With added some loving touches, it's performance is even greater!"

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"Name bonus: After every attack, sends a wind wave delivering a smash with an equivalent of half of the wielder's strength to the target."

"Adds Sixty-five strength, agility and mana to its rightful wielder!"

Are you fucking kidding me? I struck a jackpot! A damn, real, ranged sword!

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