Technoblade in danmachi

Chapter 4: The Art of the Forge

The fires of the Hephaestus Familia's forge roared, their golden-orange glow bathing the cavernous workshop in flickering light. The sound of hammers striking anvils echoed through the air, a rhythmic symphony of creation. Standing in the heart of the forge, Technoblade surveyed the array of tools, materials, and workstations before him.

This was a moment he had been waiting for—a chance to prove himself, not only as an adventurer but as a craftsman.

Hephaestus, arms crossed and her crimson hair glinting in the firelight, watched him closely. "You're sure you want to do this yourself?" she asked, her tone skeptical but intrigued.

"I'm sure," Technoblade replied without hesitation. His white hair glowed faintly in the forge's light, and his expression was calm, focused.

Hestia, standing beside Hephaestus, looked between the two nervously. "Bell you know what you're doing, right? This isn't the same as mining."

"Relax," Technoblade said with a small smirk. "I've made armor before. Besides, I trust your goddess's tools. They'll hold up to the task."

Hephaestus raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She wasn't used to adventurers who wanted to forge their own gear, let alone one so confident. "Alright, the tools are yours. But if you mess up, don't blame me."

She gestured to a workstation stocked with everything he could need: a sturdy anvil, a selection of hammers and tongs, and a roaring forge that radiated heat.

Technoblade stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's get started."

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Preparation and Focus

The first step was refining the materials. The diamonds Technoblade had mined were raw, their edges rough and uneven. He began by heating the forge until it glowed white-hot, then selected a pair of tongs to grip the largest diamond. Carefully, he placed it into the forge, letting the intense heat soften it just enough to shape.

Hephaestus watched from a distance, her single eye sharp and attentive. Despite her initial skepticism, she couldn't help but notice his precision. Each movement was deliberate, every action calculated.

"Most adventurers don't even know how to hold a hammer properly," she muttered to Hestia. "But this one... he's different."

Hestia nodded, though her expression was still tinged with worry. "He always surprises me, even when I think I've gotten used to it."

As the diamond heated, Technoblade retrieved a hammer and began striking it against the anvil, his strikes methodical and even. Sparks flew with each impact, and the diamond gradually took on a smoother, more uniform shape. He repeated the process with each diamond, refining them into plates that would serve as the foundation of his armor.

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Shaping the Armor

Once the diamonds were prepared, Technoblade turned his attention to the gold ingots he had brought. Gold wasn't the strongest material, but it was an excellent binding agent. He planned to use it to reinforce the diamond plates, creating a balance between flexibility and durability.

Melting the gold required patience, but Technoblade worked steadily, pouring the molten metal into molds to form thin, flexible sheets. These would act as the framework for the diamond plates.

Hephaestus couldn't help but step closer as she watched him work. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved. His hands, steady and sure, guided the tools with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

"Who taught you this?" she asked, her voice cutting through the clamor of the forge.

"No one," Technoblade replied without looking up. "I taught myself. Trial and error. Mostly error, at first."

Hephaestus raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. She knew skilled smiths who had trained for decades yet lacked the precision she saw in him now.

"Impressive," she muttered under her breath.

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Assembly and Intricate Details

With the materials prepared, Technoblade began assembling the armor. He started with the chest plate, carefully layering the diamond plates over the gold framework. Each piece fit together like a puzzle, creating a seamless surface that gleamed in the forge's light.

The process was painstaking, but Technoblade didn't rush. He used every tool at his disposal, from clamps to chisels, ensuring that each piece was perfectly aligned. Sweat dripped from his brow, but he ignored it, his focus unbroken.

Hestia, who had been pacing nervously, finally spoke up. "How much longer is this going to take?"

"As long as it needs to," Technoblade replied curtly.

Hephaestus smirked. "Patience, Hestia. Art takes time."

As he worked, Technoblade added small, intricate engravings to the armor. These weren't just decorative—they served as channels for magic, allowing the armor to enhance his abilities in battle. Using a fine-tipped tool, he carved runes into the gold framework, each stroke precise and deliberate.

Hephaestus leaned in closer, her eye narrowing as she studied the runes. "Those aren't from this world," she said softly.

"No," Technoblade admitted. "They're not."

For a moment, Hephaestus said nothing. Then, to her own surprise, she smiled. There was something thrilling about watching him work, seeing his unique style take shape.

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The Final Touches

Hours passed, and the armor was nearly complete. Technoblade inspected each piece carefully, checking for flaws or weaknesses. The chest plate, gauntlets, greaves, and helmet all shone with an otherworldly brilliance, their diamond surfaces polished to perfection.

Finally, he added the last touch—a crimson cape he had brought from the church. He fastened it to the back of the chest plate, its vibrant color contrasting beautifully with the diamond's cool gleam.

Stepping back, Technoblade surveyed his work. The armor was unlike anything Orario had ever seen—a masterpiece of both form and function.

"It's done," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Hestia let out a sigh of relief. "Finally! I was starting to think we'd be here all night."

Hephaestus, however, said nothing. She stepped forward, her single eye scanning the armor with a mixture of awe and admiration. She reached out, running her fingers over the smooth diamond plates and the intricate runes etched into the gold.

"This is... incredible," she said softly.

Technoblade smirked. "Told you I knew what I was doing."

Hephaestus glanced at him, and for a brief moment, her stoic demeanor faltered. There was a flicker of something else—pride, perhaps, or even admiration. She quickly composed herself, clearing her throat.

"Don't let it go to your head," she said, though her tone was lighter than before. "You've got talent, I'll give you that. But talent only gets you so far. The Dungeon won't care how shiny your armor is."

Technoblade nodded. "Good thing I've got more than just shiny armor."

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The Hidden Smile

As Technoblade and Hestia prepared to leave, Hephaestus watched them from the doorway. Her gaze lingered on the armor, then shifted to the young man who had crafted it.

She felt a strange warmth in her chest, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. Watching Technoblade work had reminded her of why she loved forging—the creativity, the passion, the endless pursuit of perfection.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud. Instead, she simply called out, "Bell Cranel!"

Technoblade turned. "Yeah?"

"Don't waste that armor," she said, her tone firm but sincere.

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I won't."

As the door closed behind them, Hephaestus allowed herself a small smile. For the first time in years, she felt a spark of excitement—a sense that something extraordinary was beginning.