Chapter 62: Magic Network No. 1 and the Blacksmith’s Workshop

Feeling a large hand gently stroking the top of her head, Rebecca suddenly felt a bit dazed.

Her first reaction was that she must have misheard. The second was that the ancestor must have been mistaken. The third was to take it as a kind of comfort.

It couldn’t be sarcasm, right?

Having never really accomplished anything in her life, the viscountess had never imagined she would be genuinely praised for once.

Seeing Rebecca’s reaction, Gawain repeated what he had just said, then chuckled: “Don’t just stand there stunned. I’m serious—I’m genuinely complimenting you. You probably don’t even realize how incredible your talent really is.”

“Really?” Rebecca said blankly, then blinked shyly. “But these are just little smarts… nothing that’s actually useful in real life.”

To have such extraordinary talent dismissed as mere “little smarts” left Gawain speechless.

Rebecca had been born too early, but luckily, Gawain had arrived in time. Her talents still had a chance to shine.

Gawain took another careful look at the magic circle Rebecca had adjusted. Although he was a knight, the younger Gawain Cecil had once been half a scholar, with considerable knowledge of magical theory. Moreover, the Kingdom of Gondor was a land where magical technology was highly advanced, and basic magical knowledge was widespread. So understanding a magic circle composed simply of fundamental runes was not difficult for him.

After a thorough examination, he confirmed that Rebecca’s adjustments to the runes were quite reasonable. The magic circle had evolved from a rough concept into a fully functional “prototype” that met his expectations and could serve as a foundation for future applications. To improve it further, they would have to wait for practical testing.

Gawain raised one question: “Have you thought about expanding it further?”

“Expanding it further?” Rebecca blinked in confusion. “How? By making it bigger?”

“No,” Gawain said, “I mean connecting it with other self-charging magic circles of the same framework but different sizes. Using certain magic circle units as building blocks, you could link them infinitely, expanding until you form a large network covering a vast area.” He looked at the neatly arranged runes and vaguely saw patterns that could be combined and repeated. Unable to resist, he proposed a bold idea: “Each magical unit wouldn’t be an isolated entity anymore, but connected together—do you understand?”

Despite her outstanding mathematical talent and creativity, this level of abstraction was still a bit too much for Rebecca. She thought hard, then frowned in frustration: “Ancestor, is something like that really possible?”

“Just think of it as one of my wild ideas,” Gawain said, seeing her struggle. He knew he couldn’t push too hard, so he decisively dropped the subject for now. “For now, focus on building Magic Network No. 1 and getting the blacksmith’s workshop running. Everything else can wait.”

“Okay!” Rebecca nodded happily. “I was just discussing the workshop with Hammer…”

“Oh?” Gawain raised an eyebrow. He had indeed seen Rebecca talking with Hammer earlier, but the excitement over Magic Network No. 1 had almost made him forget. “What were you two discussing?”

“The new furnace,” Rebecca said, tilting her head. “I was thinking that once Magic Network No. 1 is operational, we can draw proper magic circles on the forge instead of using those clumsy runes. That means the furnace can be modified, right? But I don’t know anything about blacksmithing, so I came to Hammer to see if he had any ideas about improving the furnace and workflow…”

Old blacksmith Hammer stood nearby, a bit nervous and humble, head bowed as he listened to the viscountess and duke discuss matters. He felt both honored and anxious that a commoner like himself could stand here and join the nobles’ conversation. When Gawain suddenly turned his attention to him, the old blacksmith broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like for a noble who had never even operated a bellows to come and guide the workshop’s construction. Yet he had to cooperate, bracing himself for a flood of bizarre demands that he and his apprentices would have to scramble to fulfill.

This wasn’t unusual. It was said that once a viscountess in the north had whimsically decided to instruct the gardeners on pruning the nursery, insisting that each golden chrysanthemum bloom be split into two buds instead of three. Dozens of gardeners were whipped for it—until the viscountess lost interest.

“Don’t be nervous,” Gawain said gently, noticing Hammer’s tension. “Tell me your ideas.”

“I… I don’t have any ideas,” Hammer said humbly, head lowered. “The viscountess is so learned and wise. What she designs is beyond what poor folk like me could ever understand. I’m barely able to use it, let alone offer suggestions.”

Gawain shook his head. “You may not understand magic, but you know the furnace and anvil better than anyone. You’re the expert here. We all respect your opinion.”

Respect… for a commoner’s opinion?

Hammer thought he must have misheard. But seeing the serious expressions on Gawain, Hetty, and Rebecca’s faces, he realized it was true—at least the duke had said it.

So he braced himself and said, “I think… since the furnace will be heated by real magic from now on, instead of patching up the old one, it might be better to build a completely new furnace from scratch…”

Gawain raised an eyebrow. “A completely new one?”

Hammer scratched his arm and tried to explain clearly: “Since we’re using real magic, we’re no longer limited by the old runes. First, the furnace can be bigger, so we can smelt more steel at once. And since the magic circle won’t crack, the furnace won’t have to be extinguished and cooled all the time. Maybe it can burn continuously, saving the time and effort of reheating. But that means it has to be used constantly…”

Gawain listened carefully, only interrupting when he had suggestions. Hammer poured out all his ideas in one go.

At first, he stammered nervously, but soon he spoke more smoothly. By the end, he was genuinely surprised.

He hadn’t expected Gawain to be so attentive—a grand duke, a true noble, someone commoners wouldn’t dare dream of meeting, was standing here in this messy workshop, listening to a commoner’s ideas. And it wasn’t just polite listening—Gawain nodded along and even asked detailed questions and offered suggestions!

Those questions sometimes confused Hammer: Was this really a noble who had never touched a bellows or hammer? How did he know so much about steel smelting?

Though some questions seemed a bit fanciful, they all focused tightly on the practical realities of steel smelting—nothing like the nonsense about splitting chrysanthemum buds.

When Hammer finished, Gawain exhaled softly and looked him in the eye.

The old blacksmith tensed. “M-my lord…”

“How long have you been a blacksmith?” Gawain asked suddenly.

“Thirty… almost thirty years,” Hammer answered quickly. “But people like me don’t keep track of dates very well…”

“A blacksmith with thirty years’ experience, and you have so many innovative ideas,” Gawain said, puzzled. “Usually, such ideas come from young people with unrestricted thinking. How did you come up with so many?”

Hammer opened his mouth, then paused for a few seconds before answering: “My lord, don’t laugh, but these ideas didn’t just come to me recently. I’ve been gathering them for many years…”

Gawain’s interest deepened. “Tell me more.”

“I’ve been a blacksmith for decades, so I know the furnace and steel like the back of my hand. I’m used to it,” Hammer said, wrinkles creasing his face as he smiled. “But I still remember when I was an apprentice—my father was the village blacksmith, and I learned from him. One year, the lord ordered us to produce a batch of refined iron. I volunteered to manage the furnace myself. My father thought I’d learned enough to handle it, so he let me try. But I messed up.”

Hammer paused, then continued: “I was too impatient. I didn’t wait long enough for the furnace to cool before reheating it—and the runes cracked.

“When the runes cracked, the furnace was ruined. It was the most valuable and crucial thing in the workshop. My father was furious. He hung me by the workshop door and whipped me for a long time, almost beating me to death. He said the only reason he didn’t kill me was because if I died, no one would help with the work or inherit the blacksmith shop…

“That year, we failed to fulfill the lord’s order, and my father was whipped dozens of times in the castle…”

Clearly, this incident had left a deep mark on Hammer.

After being punished by his father and seeing him suffer in the castle, many of Hammer’s ideas about the forge began to take root.

Fortunately, thirty years later, those ideas hadn’t completely died in his heart—maybe they had withered, but Rebecca’s plan to draw magic circles on the furnace instead of runes rekindled his hope.

To have hope again was already a significant breakthrough.

Since this old blacksmith wasn’t the inflexible, resistant-to-change person Gawain had feared, some preparations could be made ahead of time.

(End of chapter)