Another World Metal Factory

Chapter 5

Cladis Street of Polchis.

It was a very old alley named after a figure from legend named Cladis, who was said to have helped the lord who founded Polchis.

It was an old alley in the central district, said to have existed even before Polchis grew to its current size.

Always bustling with activity, it was also called the Workshop Street because of the many workshops gathered there. It was literally a place where numerous artisans’ workshops were clustered.

Blacksmiths, weapon workshops, armor workshops, daily necessities workshops, and more were all divided and specialized, and with woodworking workshops, jewelry workshops, leather workshops, and clothing workshops, it was without a doubt the continent’s best workshop street.

The Factory Manager, who came out of the back door of the factory carrying a box, walked down the street with familiar steps and entered a blacksmith workshop.

A young dwarf who was organizing finished goods outside the blacksmith’s door greeted him, and the Factory Manager nodded and stepped inside.

“I’m here.”

“This guy comes and goes like it’s his own workshop.”

“Hey, watch how you talk to a customer!”

Popper grumbled as the Factory Manager entered.

However, knowing that it wasn’t a complaint out of dislike, but rather the grumbling of a close friend, the Factory Manager grumbled back and approached Popper.

As Popper put the iron he was hammering back into the forge and walked towards the workbench in the corner, the Factory Manager also walked towards it.

“Enough of that. Here, I finished making the blades.”

“Are these the knives Karutz requested? You’re fast.”

“Unlike a certain lazybones.”

The Factory Manager handed over the box, and Popper began examining the blades inside.

After meticulously inspecting each one, Popper sighed, put them back in the box, and looked at the Factory Manager.

“I always think this, but you’re annoying, but your skills are good. But it seems you didn’t do the heat treatment this time either.”

“Like I said before, heat treatment is a pain.”

“Sigh. Alright. I guess I’ll have to do it again this time. I see you only shaped the blades. Kelper! Finish making the stakes. I’ll take care of these.”

Popper shouted to his son and walked to his workbench with the box.

A roaring forge, a large metal anvil in front of it, and various hammers and tongs all showed that it was a craftsman’s workbench.

Popper put the box down next to him, picked up a long pair of tongs, grabbed a blade, and put it into the forge before operating the bellows next to it to increase the fire.

The flames flared up in an instant, engulfing the blade, and Popper skillfully put the remaining blades into the forge as well.

Popper carefully watched the fire and adjusted the temperature by operating the bellows.

“You made the tangs long and pointed like I asked.”

“Well, you said you’d make the handles. It was a pain to make them like that.”

“Thank you. Yes, I’m so sorry to have bothered such an esteemed person!”

Popper, sarcastically grumbling, repeatedly dipped the heated blades in oil with tongs. A sizzling sound and smoke rose.

After finishing the first round of heat treatment, Popper put the blades back into the forge to raise the temperature, then quickly pulled them out one by one and placed them on the workbench to cool.

After completing the process, Popper looked at the Factory Manager and said,

“You know how to do heat treatment, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“It’s a pain. First, I have to make a heat treatment furnace, then heat it to the right temperature, put it in oil, and all that. Honestly, for one or two blades, I could just heat them with a torch and do the heat treatment, but when the quantity increases, it’s not a one-time thing.”

Popper sighed deeply at the Factory Manager’s words.

“Honestly, if you did the heat treatment and made the handles, all the money would be yours. You wouldn’t have to share it with me. So why do you bother?”

At Popper’s question, the Factory Manager took out a cigarette and lit it before replying.

“I always say this, but I’m not a craftsman, I’m an engineer. Of course, if it were just a kitchen knife for a newlywed, I’d make the handle myself. But this is a knife for a butcher, an expert in meat. For a knife like that, it’s right for a craftsman who makes handles to make one that fits his hand.”

“There you go with your nonsense again…”

Popper grumbled, but he didn’t seem offended, as he awkwardly smiled and collected the cooled blades.

“I’ve already made the handles, so now we just need to attach them. Hey, give me a hand.”

“Will you pay me?”

“Hell no! What payment!”

After retorting to the Factory Manager’s question, Popper handed him a pair of steel tongs with a wide gripping area and lifted a wooden box that was placed next to him.

Inside were wooden handles that had been prepared beforehand. They were round, carved wood with long metal rings fitted at the top.

“Hold this tight while I heat the blades.”

“Alright.”

While the Factory Manager held the tongs, Popper inserted the tangs of the kitchen knives into the forge, heating them red hot.

As the tangs glowed red hot, Popper quickly picked one up and placed it on the anvil, and the Factory Manager quickly grabbed it.

As soon as the Factory Manager grabbed the blade, Popper picked up a pre-made handle, fitted it onto the tang, and started hammering. The heated tang started to smoke and sizzle as it burned the wood.

After forcefully driving the tang all the way through, Popper hammered the protruding end flat, then moved the knife aside and handed a new blade to the Factory Manager.

The process of inserting the heated tang into the handle continued.

“Oh, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

The Factory Manager suddenly spoke to Popper, who was hammering the handle.

“The liquor I brewed a while ago seems to be ready.”

“Are you bragging?”

Popper said as he finished a knife and placed it aside, picking up a new blade, and the Factory Manager grabbed the new blade with the tongs and shook his head.

“No. I’m saying let’s have a drink together this weekend when we’re done with these knives. We can ask Karutz to bring some meat and grill it.”

“Sounds good.”

They continued to chat while attaching the handles to the knives, and finally, the work was finished.

Popper wiped his sweat with a towel and took a large gulp of water, then handed a cup to the Factory Manager. The Factory Manager also took a large gulp of lukewarm water and caught his breath.

“So, is that it?”

“Now we just need to sharpen them. Want to help?”

“Nah, I’ll go and rest for a bit.”

“Alright! Don’t forget our weekend plans.”

The Factory Manager left Popper’s workshop and returned to his own factory.

3.

The blacksmith shook his head as he looked at the sword the boy had brought.

“No… how can I fix a completely broken sword?”

“But… isn’t there any way?”

The boy pleaded, but the blacksmith shook his head again.

What the boy had brought was a sword. A longsword used for combat. However, it was split in half right down the middle.

“Even if I’m a blacksmith specializing in swords, it’s impossible to seamlessly fix a completely broken object.”

“Is there really no way?”

The blacksmith sighed at the boy’s words and showed him the broken parts.

“Look. I can do it, but… I can heat the broken parts, fit them together perfectly, and hammer them. That way, I can attach them. However, there will be marks, and the sword will be deformed. It won’t be restored to its original state.”

The blacksmith handed the sword back to the boy, and the boy wrapped it back in the cloth with a disappointed expression.

“I understand your situation, but there’s nothing I can do about a broken sword. However, the metal is good, so if you melt it down and make a new sword, it will be a fine one. What do you say? Should I make one for you?”

“No…”

The boy shook his head at the blacksmith’s words and tied the cloth.

“I’ll try somewhere else.”

“You’ll get the same answer anywhere else. Do you think other blacksmiths will have a magical solution?”

“You never know. Maybe someone has a better way.”

The blacksmith frowned, his pride hurt by the boy’s words.

“I’ve been making a living as a blacksmith for almost 30 years. I can’t even count how many knights in this city use my swords. Even knights from other cities have bought my swords. If I say it can’t be done, it can’t be done. Being stubborn won’t change anything.”

When the blacksmith spoke in a slightly sharp tone, the boy quickly nodded and ran out of the blacksmith’s workshop.

Watching the boy’s back, the blacksmith clicked his tongue and raised his hammer again.

******

The boy who came outside sighed deeply and walked down the street.

He had gone around the workshops on Workshop Street, hoping to find someone who could fix the sword, but no blacksmith could do it. Sadly, that was the reality.

The owner of the sword, his grandfather, had said the same thing. A broken sword had to be melted down and reforged; trying to fix it forcefully was useless.

“Is there really no way to fix this…”

“Ouch!”

The boy, walking with his head down, bumped into someone and fell to the ground.

“Ow, ow…”

While the boy was writhing in pain on the ground, the other person rubbed their hip, frowned, and looked at the boy.

“You should be careful!”

“I’m sorry.”

While the boy apologized, the other person reached out a hand to help him up.

“Are you hurt?”

“Uh, I’m okay.”

The boy replied while grabbing the other person’s hand and getting up, and the other person smiled and brushed off the boy’s clothes.

As the red-haired girl brushed off his clothes, the boy blushed slightly in embarrassment.

“I’ve never seen you before. You don’t seem to be from this alley. I’m the daughter of the restaurant owner, so I know everyone in this alley.”

“Ah, I came from somewhere else. I was looking for a blacksmith…”

At the boy’s words, the red-haired girl, Richel, the daughter of the Red Rooster, pointed to a nearby shop. It was the blacksmith workshop the boy had just left.

The boy shook his head when he saw the shop Richel was pointing at.

“They said they couldn’t do it there.”

“Really? What are you trying to make? Something special?”

At Richel’s question, the boy lowered the cloth he was carrying and showed it to Richel.

“No, it’s not that. My grandfather’s sword broke, and I’m trying to get it fixed, but there’s no blacksmith who can do it. So I was about to go back…”

Richel looked at the broken sword the boy showed her and thought for a moment. She had never heard of a blacksmith who could fix a broken sword.

She had seen a blacksmith patch a hole in a pot by heating and hammering another piece of metal, but she had never heard of anyone fixing a broken sword.

And at that moment.

Something came to Richel’s mind.

“Ah… maybe it’s possible…”

“What?!”

The boy exclaimed at Richel’s muttering, and Richel, after a moment of hesitation, grabbed the boy’s hand.

“Let’s go. It might be possible!”

When Richel pulled him along, the boy blushed again and followed her.

******

The place Richel took him to was a factory.

When Richel opened the back door and entered, Channing looked at her with surprise.

“Oh my… I thought you were the Factory Manager. Lunch was over a while ago, what brings you here?”

At Channing’s question, Richel pulled the boy forward.

“I brought a customer!”

“A customer?”

Channing looked at the boy at Richel’s words, and the boy untied the cloth he was carrying and showed the broken sword.

“Wow… it’s completely broken.”

“Please fix this.”

“Fix it?”

Channing asked back in surprise at the boy’s request, and the boy nodded.

“This… I think the Factory Manager needs to see this…”

“Well then, I’ll be going. I’ll be in trouble with my mom if I’m late.”

Richel, who was looking at Channing and the boy, said that and went out the back door, and Channing followed her.