Chapter 277: Proper
For the next hour, Arwin tested the Ashleaf Tree pieces. He burned them, crushed them, warped them, and melted them. He put them through every test he could to push the components of the tree to the limits and determine just how far they would make it under the less than gentle techniques of Dwarven Smithing.
And as it turned out, the Ashleaf Tree could take quite a bit.
The wood was surprisingly resilient. It was no metal, but flame didn’t take to it well at all. Every part of the tree was different in composition. The tree’s core was springy and surprisingly malleable, but it was easily cut and didn’t hold up long under much assault of any sort. It, unfortunately, went up in flames shortly after being introduced to any amount of magma.
Its bark was considerably less movable. While Arwin could still bend it, it was far stiffer and harder than the core parts of the tree. The bark was as hard as metal and immensely tough. It was able to resist the heat of the lava for nearly a minute before it went from smoldering to aflame.
The roots were somewhere right down the middle. They were malleable and strong, but not nearly as malleable as the tree’s core nor as tough as its bark. The roots were, unfortunately, also quite flammable. They didn’t last long at all when he put them into the magma.
And therein laid the issue. Anything he worked with had to be able to resist the magma for long enough for him to form a connection with its song. The heat of the molten rock threatened to make using the wood as the core of his materials instead of metal impossible.
Arwin’s tests were getting close to making him give up on using the wood as the core of the arm. If it couldn’t survive the magma, then there was just nothing to be done. The only thing that stopped him was functionality. The wood seemed perfect for just about every aspect other than usability.
Swapping to a metal core would heavily decrease just how flexible the arm was. If Olive couldn’t control her makeshift limb like a normal one, then it wouldn’t be nearly as useful of a replacement.
Arwin chewed his lower lip in thought as he examined a piece of Ashwood bark. He held it above the magma, but not so close that it could catch aflame, and dug through his mind in search of hidden inspiration. There had to be a way around this.