Chapter 95 Forging Craft

"Hey! Hammerhead! Look who is coming, isn't this our dear mage!"

As soon as Joan walked into the gate of the wrought iron workshop, he heard familiar laughter. Flint's nephew Tom ran over with surprise on his face, and gave him a big hug without any explanation. The strong dwarf blacksmith picked up the young mage, who was a head taller than him, as easily as he lifted a sack of potatoes.

"Joan! It's so embarrassing to think of visiting an old friend after coming back for so long!" Tom put down Joan, and asked excitedly, "Tell me, how did you deal with those dozen evil goblins? "

"A dozen?" Joan was confused.

"Everyone said that you were attacked by a dozen evil goblins in the Algonquin Valley, and you killed all the bandits with your clever mind and powerful spells. Of course, you paid some price for it... sorry, I don't That's what I should say." Tom glanced at Joan carefully, avoiding his right eye.

"There's only one Soul Stealer, how can there be a dozen..." Qiao An was deeply helpless at these outrageous rumors. Starting from Aunt Barbara, people always seem to unconsciously add some fictional elements when spreading his experiences, and the evil goblin who caused him to lose his right eye has also grown in scale, and it has become a dozen in Tom's ears. as much.

Joan briefly described what he had seen and heard in Powhatan Village, and then got back to the topic, asking Tom if he could spare time to teach him forging skills.

"Of course I'm free, I'm bored and I'm going to sneak out for a drink!" Tom said briskly.

"Is the work in the blacksmith shop very leisurely?" Joan asked in surprise. In his impression, blacksmiths work around the iron furnace from morning to night, and they have to keep wheel forging hammers. It can be regarded as one of the hardest jobs in the world. How can Tom be so relaxed?

"I'm very busy, but it's mainly the machines and apprentices who are busy. I, the supervisor, don't need to do everything myself." The young dwarf grinned, and took Joan's hand and walked into the workshop, "Now Today's iron forging workshops are very different from the old-fashioned blacksmith shops. Many tasks that were previously performed by humans have been replaced by automatic forging hammers. Blacksmiths only need to show their skills in key processes. Let me show you around."

Joan walked around the workshop with Tom, and felt that his eyes were wide open. "Flint Workshop" already has the prototype of a modern factory, with automatic forging hammers pulled by waterwheels to process pig iron. The crude steel produced in this way is further processed by hydraulic machine tools to cut out the blanks of the utensils, and then the craftsmen manually polish them into smooth iron products.

In addition to the forging workshop, there is also a casting workshop in the workshop. Craftsmen pour molten iron into the sand mold, and when the molten iron cools, they break the sand mold to obtain castings, and then perform more detailed processing and polishing by hand, and a cast iron appliance is completed.

"Cast iron utensils are more convenient to process, but the texture is relatively brittle. They are only suitable for processing daily necessities such as pots, pans and pans. Farm tools and weapons require higher strength. Cast iron is not enough, and forging is still necessary." Tom is very patient. Explain it to Joan.

"Tom, if I want to build a dagger, where do I start?"

"Well, I can't explain it clearly in a few words, so you should try it yourself."

Tom ran to the warehouse where the steel was stacked and rummaged through it. He selected a steel plate that was half an inch thick, three inches wide, and one foot long. He brought Joan back to the hydraulic machine tool, and taught him how to use the milling machine to cut the steel into a dagger. The general outline of the dagger, and then a hydraulic drill drilled three small holes at the end of the dagger for fixing the wooden handle.

"We have the blank dagger, now it's our blacksmith's old job - forging!"

Tom took off his coat, revealing his fine muscles. Skillfully picked up the iron tongs, stuffed the dagger blank into the torch, burned it until it was red, took it out and placed it on the anvil, and started to beat it with a forging hammer.

Joan watched the dagger burst into sparks between the anvil and the forging hammer, feeling inexplicably excited, and asked Tom loudly, "Can I try it?"

Tom raised his head and looked him up and down for a while, then nodded slightly embarrassed: "Yes, yes, but I want to change a forging hammer for you."

Taking advantage of his turning back, Joan tried to grab the large forging hammer next to the anvil. He couldn't lift it with one hand at all, but he could barely lift it with both hands, let alone forging.

"This is the small hammer used by the children of our dwarves when they first learned to forge iron. Try it." Tom handed over a forging hammer of the smallest size.

Joan tried it in his hand, and felt that the weight was just right. He smiled with satisfaction, and followed Tom's instructions to tap hard. It was really tiring to forge the iron. Joan was tired and sweaty within five minutes of beating. He simply followed Tom's example and took off his coat, wearing only a short-sleeved vest and continuing to forge the red-hot dagger.

While he was burying his head in blacksmithing, Mr. Flint walked over with his hands behind his back. Seeing that Joan was sweating like rain, he couldn't help laughing out loud.

Joan looked up and saw Flint, quickly put down the hammer, and scratched his head in embarrassment.

"Don't look at me, continue!" Flint made an encouraging gesture.

With a blushing face, Joan grabbed the small forging hammer and continued to wrestle with the blank dagger. After beating repeatedly for ten minutes, he was too tired to lift his arms before Flint signaled him to stop and rest.

"Mr. Flint, I..." Joan looked at the dagger on the anvil that he had beaten into a loach-like shape, with a face full of shame, "I still have a lot to learn about forging."

"Yes, you still need to learn, my child." The old dwarf squeezed the young mage's white and slender arm, and added with a smile, "But before that, what is more important to you is to eat more. Meat, how much meat, you can't make a decent weapon with just this toy forging hammer."

Joan lowered his head, deeply ashamed.

"Don't think I'm laughing at you, my good boy. As a mage, it's very rare for you to condescend to swing the forging hammer."

The old dwarf waved away his nephew who was trying to forge daggers from Joan, rolled up his sleeves, picked up the forging hammer himself, and swung a powerful blow to the anvil.

The expert shot is extraordinary. What Joan made by himself was pure noise, but the sound of Mr. Flint's hammering was as fast as a drumbeat. Not only did it not sound harsh, but it also made Joan feel emotional.

After just ten minutes, the twisted "loach" on the anvil was reborn under Flint's forging, and transformed into a beautiful wave-bladed dagger.

"My uncle hasn't personally forged weapons for a whole year. It's a rare opportunity. If you look carefully, you can't learn the real skills casually." Tom reminded Joan softly.

Joan nodded and took note of Flint's forging techniques.

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