American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 244 Forging and Inheritance (5K words, requesting monthly votes at the beginning of the month!)
He took out the dagger blank, which had cooled down and was covered with a layer of black oxide, and casually tossed it onto the anvil with a dull "clang".

“Yesterday, you only gave it shape; today, we will give it soul. Next comes heat treatment. Remember, whether a knife is a divine weapon or scrap metal depends 90% on this step.”

"Let it sleep in the sand all night. This process is called 'annealing,' and its purpose is to eliminate all the 'internal damage' left in its body when you hammered it yesterday, namely work hardening and internal stress."

"Now, its internal chaotic crystal structure has returned to its most relaxed and stable original state."

“But that’s not enough,” old George said seriously as he put the blank back into the furnace. “Forging makes the grains inside the steel coarse and uneven. Annealing removes stress, but we should do a normalizing process to refine these grains.”

"You can think of it as kneading dough. We need to make the dough inside more delicate and uniform. Only in this way can it achieve its strongest performance when it undergoes the final quenching."

“Any tiny mistake could turn all your efforts from yesterday into a pile of scrap metal.” Old George explained in detail to ensure that Lin Yu’an fully understood the importance of this matter.

Then the blade blank was put back into the furnace, but this time, old George controlled the airflow of the bellows and the air damper at the furnace opening with extreme precision, so that the originally violent furnace fire no longer danced wildly, but instead condensed into a steady and scorching stream of fire, powerfully licking the blade.

Instead of sealing the furnace opening as he would with annealing, he used tongs to remove the blank and placed it on a firebrick to cool naturally in the still air of the workshop.

“See? This cooling rate is faster than annealing, but much slower than quenching. This is normalizing,” Old George explained. “The process is quick, and once it’s completely cooled, we can move on to the next step.”

"During that time..."

“Now that we’ve covered the theory, it’s time to practice. You have great talent, but there are no shortcuts to craftsmanship; it takes countless hours of practice. Keep forging your blades. Your body must learn the feel of iron before your mind does.”

Lin Yu'an nodded, put on his goggles and apron again, and threw himself into the tedious yet passionate beating.

With yesterday's experience and the added advantage of his special touch, his movements today were completely free of awkwardness. Every swing of the hammer was filled with the beauty of power and rhythm. Old George only glanced at him occasionally before looking away, his face full of undisguised satisfaction and admiration.

More than two hours later, when Lin Yu'an finished a knife blank that was even more perfect than the first one, covered in sweat, Old George finally spoke.

Old George finally spoke: "Alright, you can come over now."

He moved the refractory bricks aside and used tongs to take out the annealed knife blank, which had completely cooled to room temperature. At this moment, it was covered with a layer of black oxide scale and looked unremarkable.

"Now, try filing its edges with a file."

Lin Yu'an took a sharp, brand-new steel file, clamped it in a vise to secure the file, then took a deep breath and pushed hard against the bevel of the blade.

"Shh-"

With an incredibly smooth sound, the black oxide layer was easily scraped away, revealing a delicate, silvery-white metallic sheen underneath. The feeling was nothing like filing steel; it was more like filing a piece of hard pear wood.

"Can you feel it?" Old George had a smug smile on his face. "This is the power of 'heat treatment,' annealing and normalizing, which turn this tough bone of spring steel into soft cheese, making it easy for you to manipulate. Only in this state can we move on to the next step."

Old George led him to the other end of the workshop, where an old-fashioned belt sander stood. "Use that wire wheel over there to remove the surface oxide scale first. Then, use an 80-grit coarse sanding belt to smooth out the lines of the blade and the shape of the handle."

He picked up a piece of scrap material and personally demonstrated, his tone becoming extremely serious: "Our goal is simply to remove the obvious flaws left from the forging process and make the blade roughly symmetrical. The most important point is the blade edge! It absolutely cannot be made too sharp!"

He pointed to the edge of the scrap: "The edge of the blade should be at least the thickness of a coin! About 1.5 to 2 millimeters."

"If you grind it to be as thin as a razor now, the extremely thin blade will crack or even shatter due to excessive stress concentration during the subsequent intense quenching process!"

Lin Yu'an nodded, keeping this bloody lesson firmly in mind.

He turned on the belt sander and began a rough shaping. Instead of pursuing the ultimate smoothness, he strictly followed old George's requirements, focusing on correcting the outline of the blade blank, and carefully leaving a uniform and thick "false edge" at the blade edge.

After completing all this, old George nodded in satisfaction.

He looked at Lin Yu'an and said, "Very good. Now, the shape of this knife is ready. Next is the most crucial and 'magical' step. We will transform it back into a steel beast and give it indestructible hardness."

"We should proceed with the quenching step."

Old George gestured for Lin Yu'an to follow him to a huge iron barrel filled with black liquid next to the forge.

“This is oil,” old George said. “5160 steel is suitable for oil quenching. Oil cools more slowly and gently than water, making it less likely for the blade to crack.”

He lit another small gas stove, specifically for heat treatment, and the flames whooshed.

"Quenching is an art of timing." He picked up the blade blank and slowly placed it into the flame. "You need to heat the blade precisely to the critical temperature of 'austenitization,' which is about 845 degrees Celsius for 5160 steel."

"How did you make that judgment?" Lin Yu'an asked.

“Use your eyes, and also a magnet.” Old George picked up a natural lodestone from the side and suspended it with a wire. “When steel is heated to a critical temperature, it temporarily loses its magnetism. See?”

He took the red-hot knife blank out of the furnace, and when he brought a magnet close, it did not react.

"But just looking at the magnetism isn't enough. The best state is a bright cherry red color that's a shade brighter than the 'non-magnetic point'."

Lin Yu'an nodded, then put the blank knife back into the furnace, observing it carefully. A few seconds later, he suddenly pulled the blank knife out!
"Yes, now!"

With swift and steady movements, he inserted the entire red-hot knife blank, blade down, straight and without the slightest wobbling, into the oil drum!

“Sizzle!!!!”

With a loud bang, the black quenching oil boiled instantly, and a plume of thick white smoke mixed with a pungent smell shot into the sky!

The whole process takes only a second or two.

He left the knife blank in the oil for about ten seconds, then took it out. By this time, it had completely cooled down, was pitch black, as if it had returned from hell!
He picked up an old steel file and ran it forcefully along the blade.

"Clang!"

The steel file slid across the blade like it was scraping glass, making a crisp sound without leaving any marks.

"It's done." Old George's face showed a satisfied smile. "Now, it's as hard as a bone, but as brittle as a cookie."

"So, we need the final step: tempering." He placed the quenched blade blank into an electric oven that looked like a household oven, and set the temperature and time.

"Bake at 200 degrees Celsius for two hours. This process releases the enormous stress generated by quenching, allowing it to maintain its high hardness while restoring its proper toughness. Only then can it truly be considered to have both strength and flexibility."

“After the tempering is finished and it has cooled down,” old George turned around, his eyes full of approval, “this piece of iron will truly come alive. At that point, you can use a belt sander, from coarse to fine, little by little, to bring out its true sharpness and polish it into the work of art you ultimately want.”

Lin Yu'an nodded. The entire heat treatment process was like a sacred ritual, which made him feel excited.

During the two hours he waited for the tempering to begin, he didn't rest. Like a tireless machine, he continued his work and successfully forged two more perfect dagger blanks. With each hammer blow, his skill became more refined and confident.

The tempering process ends when the electric furnace emits a soft "ding" sound.

Old George opened the oven door and, wearing thick fireproof gloves, took out the knife blank that had returned to room temperature. After being baked at 200 degrees Celsius, the surface of the blade showed a light, even straw yellow color, a sign of successful tempering.

“Now,” Old George handed the blade blank to Lin Yu’an, his tone carrying a sense of accomplishment, “go and give it its final edge.”

Lin Yu'an walked to the old belt sander again. But this time, his mindset was completely different. If the previous rough grinding was out of caution against the possibility of quenching failure...

The current fine grinding is a meticulous process of refining a work of art that is about to be born. He switched to a 240-grit abrasive belt and started the machine.

"Om-"

The sand belt rotates at high speed, emitting a deep roar.

He gripped the handle tightly with both hands and gently attached the heat-treated, hardened blade to the sandpaper.

"Fuck-"

A string of tiny, bright sparks flew out like fireflies. This time, the resistance he felt was far greater than during annealing. He had to use much more force to grind fine marks onto the hard steel surface.

His movements were slower and more steady than before. His eyes were fixed on the line where the blade met the abrasive strip, each movement measured in millimeters. He always remembered old George's advice: better to be slow than to make a mistake.

From 240 mesh, to 400 mesh, then to 600 mesh, 800 mesh...

He gradually changed to finer abrasive belts, and the scratches left from the rough grinding on the blade's surface were covered and smoothed out layer by layer.

The straight spine of the blade became even clearer and more three-dimensional after meticulous polishing. The main cutting surfaces on both sides exhibited a smooth, even satin-like sheen.

The only sounds in the workshop were the monotonous roar of the belt sander and Lin Yu'an's steady breathing, as steady as a rock.

Old George didn't disturb him; he simply stood aside with his hands behind his back, watching quietly. It was as if he were seeing not an apprentice who had only been learning for two days, but an old craftsman who had been immersed in this craft for decades.

That kind of focus, that kind of composure, that kind of ultimate pursuit of lines and light and shadow, cannot be taught by any language; it is a talent engraved in the soul.

The final step is sharpening the blade.

Lin Yu'an switched to a brand new 1000-grit sanding belt. He adjusted the angle of the sander's workbench so that he could grind the previously reserved thick false blade at a more precise angle.

He took a deep breath and focused all his attention on the area of ​​the blade that was less than two millimeters wide.

His hands were as steady as a mechanical arm mounted on a precision machine tool. He controlled the cutting blank, guiding the beveled edge of the blade smoothly across the high-speed rotating abrasive belt at an angle of about 20 degrees.

"His-"

This time, there were fewer flying sparks, and the sound was more delicate.

Silvery-white steel shavings were gradually worn away from the blade edge, revealing a sharp, visible white line that gleamed with a cold light, slowly extending from the base of the blade towards the tip.

He carefully flipped the blade over and, using the same angle and force, began polishing the other side.

He repeated this process several times, each time grinding away only a thin layer to ensure that the blades on both sides were absolutely symmetrical and uniform.

When he finished the final polishing and turned off the belt sander, the entire workshop instantly returned to silence.

He raised the dagger in his hand. In the dim light of the workshop and the glow of the furnace, the dagger seemed to come alive.

The blade has a restrained, high-end satin-like texture, with light flowing across it like water under moonlight. The newly cut blade, about fifteen centimeters long, gleams with a cold, icy light.

Its design is extremely simple, without any unnecessary decorations, and it exudes the sharp style of a modern tactical dagger.

The teardrop-shaped blade ensures powerful piercing force, while the flat-ground cutting edge ensures smooth cutting. The handle is still a rough steel strip, awaiting further processing.

But based on the blade alone, it is already a perfect tool for killing and creation.

"it is good."

Old George uttered only one word, but his hoarse voice was filled with undisguised admiration and satisfaction. He handed the dagger back to Lin Yu'an.

“From a scrapped steel plate to a deadly blade,” Old George looked at Lin Yu’an with the same look he had when looking at his most prized creation. “Kid, you only took two days. Now, it’s yours.”

Lin Yu'an accepted the weapon he had created himself, gaining a deeper understanding of forging. The blade was its teeth, but he knew that wasn't enough. A true weapon also needed a hand capable of perfectly wielding it.

"Uncle George, the hilt..."

"Don't rush, hahaha," old George seemed to see through his thoughts.

He led Lin Yu'an to another corner of the workshop and opened an old wooden box covered in the marks of time. A smell mixed with wood and tung oil wafted out, and inside the box were neatly stacked blocks of wood of various colors and textures.

Old George picked out a seemingly unremarkable piece of wood covered in twisted patterns and tossed it to Lin Yu'an: "This is a stabilized olive burl, retaining its most gorgeous grain while being infused with steel-like strength by resin. It'll be perfect for your knife."

Lin Yu'an took the wooden block; it was much heavier than it looked.

He was led to an old-fashioned bench drill, where old George tapped the hardened steel bar of the shank with his rough fingers: "It's incredibly hard now; any ordinary drill bit would be doomed. Remember, use a carbide drill bit, slow down the spindle speed, add cutting oil, and don't let it smoke."

Lin Yu'an secured the handle firmly and started the bench drill.

A piercing screeching sound rang out, as if hardened souls were resisting each other. He carefully poured coolant onto the drill bit, inhaling the unique smell of oil evaporated by the high temperature, and finally drilled two smooth and precise round holes in the hard keel.

Subsequently, the piece of olive wood was split in two by a band saw, becoming two "patches" of uniform thickness.

Lin Yu-an used them to tightly clamp the steel handle, marking and drilling, precisely replicating every step to ensure that there was no difference.

Old George handed him a two-tube pack of epoxy resin adhesive, his voice low and deep: "This isn't just for gluing it. More importantly, it will fill every crack you can't see, permanently shutting out air and moisture. A knife can't rust from the heart."

Lin Yu'an understood. He carefully mixed the resin, evenly applied it to the inside of the steel handle and the wooden piece, and then carefully joined them together. Two specially made stainless steel screws pierced through the wooden piece and the steel handle, like two sturdy bone nails, initially binding this steel body together.

After the resin had initially cured, Lin Yu'an walked to the familiar belt sander once again.

He turned on the machine and attached the rough handle to the high-speed rotating sanding belt.

"Buzz—Zzz—"

This time, the air was no longer filled with pure metallic sparks, but with soot mixed with sawdust. The sharp, metallic smell was replaced by a rich aroma reminiscent of roasted nuts.

His movements were steady and fluid. Under his hands, the edges of the two protruding pieces of wood and the steel frame in the middle were sheared away together. The boundary between wood and steel gradually blurred and dissolved in the rapid grinding, eventually transforming into a perfect arc.

He is like a sculptor, awakening a piece of raw jade, transforming it from rough to delicate, from angular to rounded. He shapes the handle into a curve that perfectly fits the palm, ensuring that every grip allows you to feel the extension of power.

Finally, he shut down the machine, and the workshop returned to silence.

He switched to hand sandpaper, gradually smoothing out all the marks left by the belt sander, from coarse to fine. When his fingertips could no longer feel any roughness, only a delicate touch like warm jade, the sculpting was complete.

“The final step,” old George handed over a jar of golden tung oil and a clean piece of cotton cloth, “is to bring it back to life.”

Lin Yu'an poured the viscous tung oil onto a cloth and gently wiped the already formed knife handle.

Miracles happen in an instant.

The moment the tung oil soaks into the wood, the originally slightly gray olive wood handle seems to be infused with life!

Those deep, twisted, spiderweb-like burl patterns emerge from the depths of the wood, creating a strong visual impact against the golden base! Light flows across it, as if golden lava is slowly flowing through the grooves of the patterns.

He applied the oil again and again, watching the wood greedily absorb it, each wipe deepening its luster.

When he tightened the two stainless steel screws, bringing the entire process to a close, what he held in his hand was a complete dagger.

He held it in his hand.

The olive wood handle was warm and thick, perfectly filling his palm as if it were custom-made for his hand.

The weight of the blade is perfectly balanced with the handle, neither too much nor too little. The cold, gleaming satin-like blade and the ornately patterned wooden handle create an ultimate harmony of strength and gentleness.

Old George's hoarse voice sounded behind him, tinged with a smile: "Now, it truly belongs to you."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

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