THE FIRST METHOD OFCOURSE

Ravan sat in the cafeteria, finishing his bread and lukewarm coffee.

His mind wandered over the conversations he had overheard about the Room that had appeared nearby.

Suddenly, a familiar gruff voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Get up and follow me," Adam said, standing at the entrance.

Ravan sighed inwardly.

'Not even a good morning or a 'how was your night?'he thought, but he knew better than to expect pleasantries from the old man.

He set his tray aside and followed Adam out of the cafeteria.

They walked across the compound to a building that seemed to radiate heat even from the outside.

As they approached, the temperature rose noticeably. This was the fire chamber.

Inside, the air was thick and hot, the smell of molten metal and burning coals filling Ravan's nostrils.

The room was filled with various blacksmithing tools, anvils, forges, and molds of all shapes and sizes.

Adam turned to face Ravan.

"Here's where the real work happens," Adam said.

"There are two methods of blacksmithing you need to know. The first is the old-fashioned way: melt metal or steel, pour it into a shaped mold, wait for it to cool, and then hammer it into the desired shape."

Adam paused, pointing to another part of the room where several magical items were stored.

"The second method requires mana. It involves crushing beast cores, magic crystals, or other magical items obtained from Towers and Rooms, then mixing the powder with the hot liquid metal.

This increases the durability and adds special properties to the weapon.

Once the weapon is forged, you infuse mana into the finished product."

Ravan listened intently, though he knew his options were limited.

The second method was beyond his reach; he was manaless, and it required immense strength to crush the nearly unbreakable magic items.

"Since you don't have mana, you'll stick to the first method for now," Adam said bluntly.

'Old geezer, always taking any opportunity jis gets to remind me that I lack mana,'Ravan thought still maintaining a neutral look.

"Let's start with something simple.

Forge a basic dagger. You won't sell it; it's just for practice."

Adam handed Ravan a blueprint of a simple F-rank dagger.

"Follow the instructions closely. If you have any questions, ask now."

Ravan nodded, scanning the blueprint.

'F-rank huh?'

The task seemed straightforward, but he knew it would be challenging with his limited experience.

He stepped up to the forge and began his work, following Adam's instructions.

Hours passed as Ravan labored over the forge.He heated the metal, poured it into the mold, and began hammering it into shape.

His muscles ached, and his hands were blistered from the heat and exertion.

He cursed under his breath as he worked, talking bitterly to himself and sometimes yelling at the stubborn metal.

At one point, he burned his right hand with the liquid metal, hastily wrapping it with a cloth to stem the pain.

Despite his frustration, he pushed on, determined to complete the dagger. He realized too late that he had been using the wrong material.

Instead of steel, he should have been using flamoryte rock, a basic yet mana-infused material.

Cursing his mistake, he started over, melting the flamoryte rock, which took longer than the steel.

The hours ticked by, and his exhaustion grew, but he refused to give up.

When Adam returned in the late afternoon, he found Ravan collapsed on the floor, drenched in sweat.

"You look like you lack vitality."

On the worktable lay a dagger that glimmered faintly in the setting sun.

Adam picked up the dagger, examining it closely.

"You finished," Adam said, his tone a mix of surprise and respect.

"The shape is right, but it's blunt." He demonstrated by trying to cut himself with the blade.

"This wouldn't even pierce a goblin."

Ravan opened his eyes and managed a weak nod.

He knew Adam was being harsh, but he appreciated the straightforward critique. It meant room for improvement.

"Close up the chamber and head for a shower. You reek," Adam instructed before leaving.

Ravan lay on the floor for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling.

He stretched out his arm and made a tight fist, feeling the wound on his hand reopen and blood soak through the makeshift bandage.

"First day, and I'm still nowhere," he whispered to himself. "But I'm proud of the little progress I've made."

The day had been grueling, but the small commendation from Adam felt good. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time, certainly not from his father. Despite the pain and exhaustion, Ravan felt a spark of hope. He might be at the bottom of the pyramid now, but he was determined to climb higher, one step at a time.

That evening, after a long day of forging, Ravan sat with a few fellow apprentices in the cafeteria who had been drafted just like him, mostly to provide for their families.

That or some were even failed awakened ones and being sent to twh fire chambers was the only option in having a decent career.

They were discussing the various ranks of weapons, and Ravan listened intently, absorbing every detail.

"The ranking system for weapons is similar to the ranking of Walkers," one of the apprentices, a burly young man named Jarek, explained.

"It starts from F-rank, the lowest, all the way up to SSS-rank, which are the rarest and most powerful drops from Towers."

Ravan nodded, taking mental notes. He had heard of the ranking system for Walkers, but learning about the weapon ranks was new to him.

Jarek continued, "F-rank weapons are basic. They're usually made from standard materials like iron or steel.

They don't have any special properties and are mostly used by low-level Walkers or trainees."

'Like the dagger I made,' Ravan thought, remembering the blunt blade he had crafted.

"D-rank weapons are a step up," Jarek went on.

"They're forged from stronger materials, sometimes infused with minor magical properties.

C-rank and B-rank weapons are even better, with significant enhancements.

They might be made from rare metals or incorporate crushed beast cores and magic crystals."

"As you go higher, to A-rank and S-rank, the weapons become incredibly powerful," another apprentice, a girl named Lila, chimed in.

Lailah was a vision of beauty, almost ethereal, unlike anyone Ravan had ever seen, save for his mother, who he had always believed to be the most beautiful woman in the world. She appeared to be about two years older than Ravan, her presence commanding attention with an effortless grace.

Her blonde hair cascaded down in soft waves, glistening like strands of sunlight even in the dim light of the cafeteria. Her blue eyes were striking, a vivid azure that seemed to hold depth and wisdom beyond her years. Every glance from her felt like a gentle caress, making it hard for anyone to look away.

Lailah was dressed in a white long-sleeve shirt that was unbuttoned at the top showing her cleavage and contrasted beautifully with her golden locks, giving her an air of purity and elegance.

Her black skirt was perfectly tailored, highlighting her slender figure, while her black see-through pantyhose added a subtle allure to her appearance.

Over her ensemble, she wore the signature black coat of the Blacksmith Department, a symbol of her affiliation and expertise.

The coat bore the logo of the Walkers Organization's Blacksmith Department prominently on the back.

The emblem was intricate and symbolic.

At its center stood a majestic Tower, representing the Towers that Walkers ventured into, seeking glory and riches.

Flanking the Tower were crossed swords, symbolizing the strength and craftsmanship of the blacksmiths who forged the weapons that Walkers depended on.

Surrounding the swords and Tower were intricate designs of flames, representing the forge's fire, and an anvil, symbolizing the blacksmiths' hard work and dedication.

Together, these elements conveyed a sense of pride, craftsmanship, and the unwavering spirit of those who toiled in the department.

As Lailah conversed with the other apprentices, her voice was soft yet clear, each word she spoke resonating with confidence. Her demeanor was warm and approachable, drawing people in effortlessly.

Even in the rough environment of the blacksmithing world, she carried herself with a poise that was both inspiring and intimidating.

"They require the best materials and advanced forging techniques.

These weapons are highly sought after by elite Walkers."

Ravan's eyes widened as he imagined the skill and effort needed to craft such weapons.

He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever reach that level.

"But the real legends are the SS-rank and SSS-rank weapons," Jarek said, his voice lowering with reverence.

"These are almost mythical. They are forged from the rarest materials, often from the deepest levels of the most dangerous Towers.

These weapons can change the course of battles and are usually wielded by the strongest Walkers in existence."

Ravan was fascinated, but the conversation took an even more intriguing turn when Lila spoke up again.

"Then there are the weapons granted to Walkers who have contracts with gods, otherworldly beings, or even demons."

Ravan leaned in closer, eager to hear more.

"These weapons are on another level entirely," Lila explained.

"They're classified as Demon-level, God-level, and Primordial-level.

They are incredibly powerful but can only be used by those who have formed a contract with the being that grants the weapon."

'A contract with an otherworldly being?'Ravan mumbled not being able to process the newly acquired information.

"How does one form such a contract?" Ravan asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"It's rare," Jarek said.

"Walkers must prove themselves in the Towers, often facing insurmountable challenges or completing specific quests.

Sometimes, the beings in the Towers will choose a Walker they deem worthy. These contracts are not given lightly and come with their own risks and responsibilities."

'Oh so only deemed worthy by the very beings one is trying to eliminate...'

Ravan pondered this information.

The idea of forming a contract with a powerful being was both terrifying and exhilarating.

He knew such opportunities were rare, but the thought of wielding a weapon of such immense power stirred something within him.

As the conversation continued, Ravan couldn't help but reflect on his own journey.

He had started at the bottom, with no mana and limited skills.

But now, he had a goal—to become a master blacksmith, capable of forging the most powerful weapons, and perhaps, one day, to wield a weapon that could change his fate.

Ravan finished his meal, his mind buzzing with new knowledge and possibilities.

He had a long way to go, but for the first time in a while, he felt a sense of purpose.

He would train hard, learn everything he could, and maybe, just maybe, he would forge a future that defied all expectations.