Author's Note: 'Nother week, 'Notcher chapter.

Chapter 47

The forge was calm and quiet as it always was, even though the hum of distant conversation still filtered in from upstairs, punctuated with the odd shout of joy. With all the noise that Beacon generally made, it was nice to have a spot to just get away from the buzz and clamor. It really generated a space that was prime for thinking...even though he wasn't going to be doing much of it.

The Dao he was set to be making would be more similar to Rex than anything else he'd made, and not only because of the fact that it was being forged without any mechashift components. The main similarity would be that the blueprint process would be forewent, as he did long ago for his personal weapon. If he were being dramatic, he would make a statement that it would be an 'uncompromised vision', something that came directly from his own natural course. Though it had it's own complications, Carol was naturally adept at not making any critical mistakes, Rex being proof of it. The only faults lied in the design he chose, as a Gladius was a short sword and had it's own drawbacks. There was no perfect weapon, after all, but there was no reason that it couldn't be exceptional for its given purpose.

Regardless, for the unique type of blade that was being designed, and the fact that he'd have to leave enough material on the spine of the blade to allow the installation and fine machine work of the Dust components, he'd have to rely on a mold to properly create the base of the weapon. As Russel mentioned before, casting was one way of making a mold, another was having a inlay for the metal to be poured into. And, with the fact that Beacon was the foremost Huntsman school, it meant that Carol was working with the nigh bleeding edge of forging tech.

Carol ran his hand over the equipment in question, coasting along the smooth metal surface of the machine. "Forgetek Auto-Mold, huh?" Even when he was in the backwoods sticks that was his settlement, he always kept an ear to the ground on newer technologies. Classics had a place, but there was a reason why newer technology pushed out the old. Better versatility, reliability, or even just more aesthetic were a few reasons. He'd still use the traditional method given the choice, but he wanted to complete the project as soon as possible. He had a feeling he couldn't take his time, though he hoped he wouldn't be proven right. But waxing poetic had its place, and it wasn't now.

So, how do you work? An electronic panel sat nearby, and Carol looked for the telltale power button, activating the machine. The set of lights around the monitor blinked sequentially, trailing the outer edge, a bold image of the manufacturer's brand lighting up on the display before being replaced by a menu of sorts. The option that stood out the most was the auto-form option, which would form to a given item placed into the obsidian black panels in the center of it. Go figure, the Auto-Mold has an auto-mold option. Ignoring the molding options for the time being, he instead tapped on the icon labeled 'information'. A smaller menu popped up, a few options listing 'Auto-Mold Operation Process', 'Advanced Utilities', and a few others dealing with licensing and liabilities. Ignoring all but the first two, he tapped the former, watching as a small video played.

It showed an animation of the operating procedure, the obsidian plates shifting and sliding to make the form of a sword. Huh. Guess Mecha-shift tech finds it's way into other things. Just another reason to begrudgingly give his appreciation to it. As expected, molten metal was poured into the formed shape, taking the form of the pattern previously made. It was actually a pretty clever design; Instead of having to spend a few hours making a mold for a specific weapon and having to repeat the process over and over again, it used an arrangement of metal plates that could very quickly be repositioned into a different style of weapon, therefore saving the blacksmith a lot of time. One issue that Carol did see, however, was the plates themselves. Sure, it was handy to have for the odd project, but what happened when it needed to be pushed to its limits? The steel could very well be heat-treated, but even still, constant use may well cause a mechanical failure, and at that point all you'd have is a half a million lien paperweight.

He supposed it didn't matter too much in sporadic use, though. After all, he was probably one of the few people that would use it. Moving on, he tapped the latter option that had piqued his interest. In it, a readme file popped up instead of a small video, and it described how one who was more experienced in the art of forging could manually set things to the desired shape. Length, width, height, curvature, all of it was available for him to manipulate. All it took was the desired dimensions, and it was easy to fit.

But that begged the question, what did he want the dimensions of the blade to be? Obviously, a dao had a thicker spine, but just how thick did he want it? Too wide and it would throw off the balance. Too thin, and he wouldn't have room to fit the Dust parts to. Luckily, he at least had a base to start off of, and he retrieved it from his pocket. He'd brought the Dust repository he'd been fiddling with throughout the day with him, as he obviously was going to perform work that involved it. It was a small object, no wider than an inch and a half or so, no longer than four. The issue then didn't lie with fitting it, as his mind was already at work with figuring out the structural integrity.

The problem was, that although it wouldn't be too hard to integrate the singular Dust repository, it was the fact that adding only one small repository would be almost pointless. It would give more versatility, yes, but with the lack of depth in the chamber, you'd run out many times. That could be stymied, however, with multiple of the devices. He couldn't take one hundred percent credit for it, as he had Weiss's rapier to thank for that. Though, that was only a stopgap measure. He'd have to figure something out later to give it longevity in the field, but for now he had a solution. A solution that came albeit with a different problem, but that could be hashed out during classes.

At least the one thing he didn't have to be concerned about was the steel composition. Since he had complete creative control, he could choose his favorite type of steel: Valean. He hesitated going over to the hardcase to retrieve his materials, turning back to the machine. First, he'd have to set the layout for the mold so he could get a realistic picture of how much steel he'd need. He tapped over to the manual mode, inputting various integers into the system, thankfully having a diagram appear to help him make a more informed decision. He pored over the projected mold for a not insignificant amount of time, making one hundred percent certain he'd made it to the specifications he wanted before pressing the finalize command. The blackened plates clattered as they shifted around, forming a mirror sheen surface as they finished settling into place.

Carol whistled low. It was pretty impressive, he had to give it that. But, now all that was left was heating up the metal to pour it in. Luckily, there was a crucible he could take advantage of, and he had a good idea of the amount of material he'd need to melt. Which meant a quick trip over to his hardcase to retrieve the steel ingot. He punched in the code, a soft click sounding before the other latches disengaged, offering its contents to his own whims. He ignored most of the contents, retrieving the ingot he needed, standing up and turning around, meeting mischievous mint and black eyes just a scant few inches away from his own. "Gah!" He shouted, fumbling around with the ingot that slipped out of his hands, catching it midair and also locating his erratically beating heart. Finding his calm again, his mouth settled into a firm line as he raised a single eyebrow in irritation. "You know, most people announce when they-" He cut himself off. "Right, sorry." A giggle from behind the miniature girl alerted him to another presence, one that had his eyes rolling. Looks like I'm not getting the peace and quiet I'd want. Figures.

Mint smiled widely, stepping down off the box that she had to have moved to reach his height, but he turned his attentions to the owner of the giggle he'd just heard. "And here I thought you were a real tough guy." Carol just sighed, pinching his brow.

"Good gods, not you too." They hadn't been there for more than a month, and they were already adhering to the hearsay about campus. What a pain in my ass... "So, what are you and pint-size here for? And no, that wasn't an ice cream joke." He kind of wished he kept it that way, though. Surprisingly, it was the mute one that deigned to answer. Mint raised a hand, forming a circle with her index finger and her thumb, prompting him to raise an eyebrow. "Hm?" Why is she giving me an 'ok' sign? The small girl took her other hand's index finger and rammed it into the space provided by her other hand, slightly breaking the circle. Her smile became yet wider as Carol hacked on air, face rapidly flushing crimson.

"I-I-I-" He found himself lost for words. It wasn't like she was unattractive, but she was a Huntress in training! Plus, stuff like that was supposed to be for marriage! "L-look, that's- I'm flattered but-" He slightly recovered from his flustration, noticing that the smaller girl was clutching her sides with silent laughter, and irritation came filtering in. "Yes, yes, it's so hilarious..." He looked past her, meeting Emerald's slightly mirthful gaze. "Are you gonna make a joke too, or are you gonna tell me what you're actually doing here?"

"No, I'd like to actually get something answered sometime today." Carol snorted in bemusement. So his gut instinct was right, again.

"Smart girl."

"Thank you." She leaned on a nearby counter, folding her arms. "I...may have acted like a kid yesterday. I wanted to fast-track my way into blacksmithing and when you said no, I took it personally." Oh, so that was why she was glaring at him! He thought, at least. "So I wanted to say I'm sorry, and ask if you could share some information that won't get you in trouble."

Carol smirked. "First time someone's actually came out and just said whatever the hell was on their mind." And apologize, as well. He had to give her kudos to that. "Well, since you're doing me the honor of having common friggin' courtesy, I'll humor you. What do you wanna know?" While they were there, he could still work. After all, the project wouldn't get done by him just standing around and chatting. He busied himself with retrieving the ceramic crucible and fitting the ingot in it's generous cavity.

"I guess I'd like to know just why it was so illegal to let me borrow your login." An explanation would help, he supposed. The beginning it was, then, with the Remnant Ordinance and Arms Ratification.

"How much do you know about the ROAR?"

"The what now?" Carol stuttered a bit as he was placing the crucible onto a table near the furnace, shaking his head. He began to heat up the furnace in the meantime, thinking of what to say next.

"Right, can't say I'm surprised." In an age where people looked at contracts for all of a second and signed where they were supposed to instead of reading them, it reaching to say that it applied to Huntsmen as well. "Anyway, skipping the bulk of it 'cuz it's not important, the main thing that ROAR did for blacksmiths was create a registry of Huntsmen and their weapons. Early on it was for ease of access for blacksmiths to be able to retrieve blueprints for work for clients, bypassing the normally lengthy time it would take to get a copy of it, as Huntsmen aren't really known to travel around with a set of their weapon's blueprint on them. Later on, it introduced types of Grimm slain and what number, but that's not really important."

"Ah, I see. So it was made to make your job a lot easier?" Carol nodded in response.

"Yeah. Which makes the next thing they did completely and utterly pants-on-head backwards."

"What did they do?" Emerald asked, tilting her head.

"They decided it was a fan-friggin-tastic idea to allow tracking of weapons and their Huntsman." Carol shook his head in disbelief, but she was merely even more curious.

"And why is that a bad thing? Couldn't you just pay attention to the movements of the Huntress and send the parts or whatever you made to a village that would intersect their path?" The girl's eyes widened slightly as if surprised, but Carol ignored it, though it did set him on edge.

"Yes, you could. That's not my issue with-" He caught himself. "Actually, that's precisely my issue with it."

"Why?"

"Oh yeah, it's all neat to be able to predict their movement and get them their stuff faster. You could argue that, but I see it differently." He finished adding the fuel to the furnace, closing the gate. "Imagine this; Atlas decides 'Hey, since we've got this big 'ol army, how about we just take over the rest of Remnant and rule over it because we know better than them?' and go to do just that. Now, of course, all the other Huntsmen in Vale and such would definitely fight back, but Atlas made the damn CCT so they've got the comms on lock, and can't get it closed off 'cuz they probably have backdoors installed. Combine that with the fact that any blacksmith more loyal to Atlas than they are to life itself could just hand over his login..." Carol clapped his hands, sending a small wave of soot dancing through the air. "Game over for the world. And that's not even mentioning the massive armada of ships they've got that could just pulverize the cities into naught but craters."

"Huh. I kind of see what you're getting at." The girl said, holding a hand to her chin. "But isn't there an upside? Like, Huntsmen can't turn criminal that easily with it in place, right?"

"Are you joking?" Carol raised an eyebrow. "Criminals already break the law. They wouldn't even think for a second of being 'on the grid'."

"Right, right." A thought occurred to the girl, her face lighting up. "Then, if Atlas did attack, 0couldn't all the Huntsmen just not log their movements into the system?"

"If there was a suspension of the law, which would most likely happen at that point, then yes. However, most battles are decided within the first few minutes. By the time that the rest of the world woke up to it, bam." Carol pressed his knuckles into his palm. "Game over, as I just said." Blinking, he realized that he had gone completely off track, following his own irritations. "Sorry, kind of went on a tangent there. Main point is, security reasons."

"Then why do you have a login for it? Rather, how do you have it despite being so young?"

"Had a swear an oath under pain of death." Carol shrugged.

"Hah, that's a good one." Emerald laughed, but faltered on seeing his serious expression. "You serious?"

"Look, they send out pre-teens to fight literal manifestations of darkness." Carol raised an eyebrow. "You tell me which is more unbelievable."

"I guess that's a good reason to not want to let me use your info." The girl laughed, smile coming easily despite the dire topic. Almost a bit too mirthful, he had to admit. Calm down on the paranoia, Magnusson. She just wants to learn. "Okay, that answers that question. If you wouldn't mind moving on to something that is actually relevant to smithing, now. Like, what you're doing right now."

"Right now? Waiting for the furnace to heat up." He picked his own section of counter to lean on, keeping both the forge and Emerald in sight. "I can tell you what I plan to do, but unless you want to sit here for a few hours while I work on it, there's not much I give in form of a working example right now. And at that point, you might as well look up some research references or some shit from the comfort of your own room."

"Are you just saying that to get rid of me?" Emerald asked, smirking. He responded in kind, shrugging theatrically.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Maybe. But you do have a point. Besides, I have...a bit to think about." The girl said, standing straight and stretching. He politely looked away from her towards the furnace to check how it was coming along. Hm. Five more minutes or so and it should be good. "Thanks for the lesson. It was eye-opening. Let's go back to our dorm, Mint." He took the time to give it a bit more fuel using the shovel nearby, wiping the sweat off of his brow as the heat escaped and blasted over his torso. A face joined his own nearby, their mismatched eyes reflecting the flames in the furnace, to which he fixed with a frustrated glare as he closed the door to the heating element.

"Personal space, runt. Do you know what that means?" She just stared at him, with that damned smile. "Right, I think you're going to have to retrieve her if you want her to follow y- and she's gone." Carol surmised, sighing and placing his hands on his hips upon noticing Emerald's quiet retreat. I'm really gonna have to start paying more attention to where I am. One day it's gonna get me stabbed, I swear. "Well, you're welcome to stick around, though I'm not much for conversation. Especially with someone who can't talk." Though, to be honest, that's kind of what he was hoping for. "Just...I dunno, sit somewhere out of the way. It would really suck to get splashed with molten steel." The girl gave a nod, hopping up to sit on a nearby counter. Despite Aura protecting against anything from broken bones to watermelons swung at supersonic speeds (Thank you for those nightmares, Nora), Carol didn't want to test the theory of what would happen to someone projecting their aura against liquid metal, and he doubted Mint would either.

Despite the addition of another person, the forge was quiet and peaceful. Carol could only hope it would last.

End Note: C&C, if you please.