Ding! The equipment grade has reached Master level. Mission accomplished!
The system sound rang clearly in Lock's ears, but the expected ability bonus did not appear. His expression froze for about three seconds… before another system sound followed.
Ding! The host's participation rate is detected to be less than 70%. The reward is being recalculated…
Ding! The reward calculation is complete: Host Strength +3, Coordination +3, Weapon Mastery +3!
Feeling the subtle changes in his body, Lock breathed a sigh of relief. He clenched his fists, tested his own strength, and smiled slightly.
At that moment, Uncle Harry approached him, holding the completed upgraded black gold bamboo sword, his eyes noticeably nervous.
This project represented the pinnacle of their collective blacksmithing skill. Every process, every improvement, every choice of material had been pushed to the extreme.
If the result did not meet Lock's needs… There would be no way but to abandon the effort.
"Lock, how is the result this time?" Harry asked with an expectant smile, handing over the sword.
Lock returned the smile as he took the weapon, feeling the warmth of the handle in his hands.
He ran his fingers along the blade. The touch of the cold, smooth metal was intoxicating. He tested its flexibility by carefully bending the blade.
It showed far greater toughness than before.
With Lock's own strength, it was easy to bend the blade to a visible curve.
He increased the force further. The curvature nearly reached 70 degrees without the blade breaking.
"We adjusted the forging ratio of black gold bamboo to steel, greatly improving flexibility without sacrificing hardness," Harry explained. "Compared to before, the blade's toughness increased by nearly 30%. It's far less likely to break now, and the chance of wear is reduced significantly."
"A very fine blade…" Lock praised, though deep in his mind, he knew the true test was in actual combat.
He eyed the massive iron block standing a few steps away—a meter high, over half a meter thick.
Under the astonished eyes of the blacksmiths, Lock strode directly to the block and swung the sword with full force.
Sniff!
With a resonant tearing sound, the blade sank deep into the iron block and pierced all the way through.
Zheng!
He pulled out the blade with effort and studied the iron block. It was almost split in two.
Holding the knife up before his eyes, Lock carefully examined the blade.
Only minor scratches marred the surface. Over 90% of the blade remained intact.
"If equipment is this strong, then as long as the user's strength is sufficient, cutting through a one or two-centimeter-thick crystal armor shouldn't be a problem," he thought.
Even if full penetration wasn't possible, at least the blade wouldn't bend or break like in the original plot.
Lock's eyes glinted.
"As for those mindless Titans… with this level of sharpness, as long as I can reach their necks, they won't last long. No need to waste effort—just strike once."
He knew that if the Survey Corps were equipped with this upgraded black gold bamboo sword, their chances of survival against Titans would increase by several percentage points.
Of course, the premise remained that the operator's skill in using the Three-Dimensional Maneuver Gear was up to standard.
Otherwise, no amount of advanced equipment would make a difference.
Coming back to reality, Lock noticed everyone staring at him.
He smiled and said confidently, "Everyone, we succeeded!"
The scene remained silent for a moment before erupting in cheers.
"Finally succeeded! This past month, I've thought about forging processes day and night—while eating, sleeping, walking… even going to the toilet!"
"I'm finally free!"
"It's no easy feat… I'm going home to rest. I won't touch forging for half a month!"
"Me too. I don't care how high the pay is, I won't take this kind of job again. It's way too time-consuming!"
"I'm old…"
"Yes… can't refuse to get old…"
Watching the blacksmiths hug each other and celebrate, Lock couldn't help but twitch his lips.
Anyone seeing so many muscular men with bare upper bodies acting like this would feel it strange.
As they prepared to leave, Lock stepped forward and said loudly, "Everyone, although the black gold bamboo sword has been successfully upgraded, your mission is not yet complete."
After a brief pause, noticing every eye locked on him, he continued:
"You're not going to let me get away with just one, are you? I want…"
"One hundred swords. One hundred swords of this level!"
It was a decision he had carefully weighed.
Compared to a regular black gold bamboo sword, the upgraded version consumed nearly double the materials.
Resource consumption was massive.
These weapons should be reserved for the elite of the Survey Corps.
Under the standard of two swords per person for actual combat and two spares, one hundred swords would be enough to equip twenty-five elite soldiers.
It wasn't a large number, but it was sufficient.
After all, only the most elite operators could unleash the sword's full potential.
Lock's request dampened the excitement of the blacksmiths, who had been ready to rest.
Their expressions shifted visibly, from joy to disheartenment.
Knowing that asking them to work right away would be unrealistic, Lock granted them half a day off.
He resolved to begin forging in full force the next morning, inspiring admiration among the team.
That night, for the first time since arriving in this world, Lock allowed himself to indulge.
He got drunk.
He abandoned training and responsibilities…
The next morning, his biological clock woke him before six o'clock sharp.
Lock got up, washed, ate a simple breakfast, and resumed his daily training, even before Uncle Harry and the others arrived.
At the same time, Elder, Gunda, Petra, and Oluo came as well.
Seeing that all his teammates—except Levi—were present, Lock's expression hardened.
Are they planning to cheat again…?
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