Chapter 6

"Wow, why is this hammer so big?" Yang Heng looked at the iron hammer in front of him and felt dizzy. In his memory, he didn't use such a large hammer.

"What are you doing? Go and get your iron hammer. Remember, take both of them." His father, holding a small hammer, a pair of tongs, and some iron blocks, shouted to him.

Oh, it turns out this big hammer isn't his. What a relief. Then he turned a corner and found the iron hammer he was supposed to use. It was two identical iron hammers, black and heavy, with nearly one-meter-long wooden handles.

"Hey," Yang Heng bent down to pick up the iron hammers, "Ouch." He secretly exclaimed, as he had used too little strength. The iron hammers looked similar to the large hammers weighing over twenty pounds from his later life, just a bit darker. But he couldn't lift them.

However, the origin of these two iron hammers soon appeared in his mind. It was said that these hammers were forged from meteorites that fell from the sky, with great effort, by his ancestors. After the hammers were made, suitable wooden handles couldn't be found for a long time. Eventually, a small tree was found on an island, and its wood was used to make the handles. Since then, no such trees have been found again. What a magical story, like a myth. But the hammers were indeed heavy. The large hammer he saw earlier was made by his father. Yang Heng could only use one of these hammers after he turned eight, and he could use both hands to wield them after he turned ten. His parents were a bit weaker, only able to lift the hammers.

"Hey." Yang Heng bent down, gathered his strength, and firmly grabbed the two iron hammers. However, with such heavy hammers, he could only swing them about a thousand times with each hand.

"Boy, why did you just come in? I've been waiting for you for a long time. Look, you haven't even put on your protective gear. Hurry up." At this moment, Yang Heng noticed that his parents were wearing aprons made of unknown animal skins, full of burn holes. Even their faces were covered with leather, with holes for their eyes to see through. His mother had already heated the furnace, pulling the large bellows to make the flames burn blue. The iron blocks inside were already turning red. His father stood in front of the large anvil, holding a pair of tongs in one hand and a small hammer in the other, ready to start work. Next to him was a large vat filled with water.

Yang Heng quickly put on the protective leather apron and a leather mask.

"Alright, let's start." "Alright," his father picked up a piece of iron, "Come, I'll hold it, and you start shaping the knife."

"Puff." "Be lighter, you forgot to control your strength." When Yang Heng's hammer struck, it split the iron in half. He hadn't used his strength well. In his memory, there were many ways to apply force, and the sparks flew everywhere. Thanks to the protection, otherwise, the sparks might have burned into his flesh. No wonder everyone had scars on their faces and bodies.

"Alright, Grandpa, it's been a while since I did this. I lost control for a moment. Let's continue." "Good, let's continue, don't do it like that again." His father threw the damaged iron back into the furnace and picked out another piece, "This time, control your strength. You should know how much force to use." "Yes, I know, I'll use two-tenths of my strength."

"Clang, clang, clang, clang" As his father turned the iron with the tongs, a long iron sheet slowly took shape. "Good, now be careful, I'm going to cut this iron sheet." His father picked up a knife-shaped iron piece, held it with another pair of tongs, and placed it on the newly forged iron sheet.

Following his father's gestures, Yang Heng struck the hammer, and soon, the rough shape of a cleaver appeared. "Now use one-tenth of your strength to refine it, follow me." His father held the blade with one hand and the small hammer with the other, guiding Yang Heng to start hammering.

This time, the sparks flew in all directions, more widely than before. Previously, they flew straight out, only hitting the body. Now, because they were striking some sloping surfaces, the hammer and anvil were not flat, so the sparks flew in different directions. Yang Heng now understood why everyone's faces were scarred. He struck at different angles, front and back, on the blade, the back, the tip, and the handle.

Needless to say, his father's skills were excellent, and Yang Heng also controlled his strength well, striking each hammer in the right place. A steel knife slowly took shape, smooth and with some patterns.

"Done," his father shouted, then threw the blade into the furnace. This time, he placed it in a different spot, as it needed to be quenched to make it steel.

"Hisss" His father began the quenching process with the newly forged steel knife, and Yang Heng had time to observe the furnace. It was fueled by charcoal, and the blue flames indicated a high temperature. Why the flames were so hot, Yang Heng guessed it had something to do with the design of the furnace. Otherwise, it would be difficult to smelt steel with charcoal. This was probably something passed down from his ancestors. And Yang Heng was right; it was indeed passed down from the blacksmith who accompanied his ancestor.

"Hmm, not bad. How did you come up with this knife design? Did you hear it from the scholar? You have potential. Come, let's do the next one. Boy, do you still have strength?" "Yes, let's start."

After forging four knives, Yang Heng began to breathe slightly heavily. After all, he had swung the hammer over three hundred times. His body was still recovering and not fully restored.

"How about it, boy, do you want to continue?" His father's job was easier, but he needed a good eye to find the uneven spots on the red-hot iron and have Yang Heng flatten them. "How about it, boy, can you continue?"

"Yes, what's next?" "An axe, the rest will be easier." Then they forged two more axes, each weighing over ten pounds. His father adjusted the size based on the strength of the user and the available iron. There wasn't much iron left, and they still had many things to forge.

These iron blocks were already repeatedly forged by Yang Heng and his father, ready to be used. The axes, knives, and picks needed to be tempered.

---

(End of the page)