Making a Stone Axe

Chapter 11: Making a Stone Axe

The plan was set, and the goal was clear. Standing in the morning light, Chen An felt the strength in his body, restored considerably by the well water and beast meat. His sharp gaze swept across the Small Courtyard. The first key step in his blueprint—making a more practical tool, especially a stone axe capable of processing wood efficiently—had become the problem he had to overcome.

The existing woodcutter's knife was adequate for dealing with thin branches, but when faced with the thicker, harder trees in the courtyard, it was clearly insufficient. It was inefficient and easily suffered rolled or worn edges. He needed a more destructive tool, one better suited for chopping.

He first carefully searched the courtyard for usable materials. Among the pile of rubble in the corner, several pieces of flint and basalt appeared to have a hard texture and relatively sharp edges. He picked up a heavy, dark-gray stone and struck its edge with another rock. It cracked apart with a sharp sound, revealing a shell-shaped fracture and sharp ridges.

"Hard enough, but too brittle. It'll chip easily, so it's not suitable for an axe blade." He shook his head and abandoned the flint. His training as a materials engineer was subconsciously coming into play.

His gaze shifted to another stone, darker in color and finer in texture, with an ink-green hue. The stone felt cold to the touch, and its density seemed greater. He struck it hard once, but only a small corner broke off, displaying excellent toughness.

"This is the one!" Chen An was delighted. This stone possessed both hardness and toughness, making it ideal raw material for an axe.

Next came the handle. Several low-growing old trees with gnarled branches caught his eye. He needed a thick, straight branch with tough wood that would not split easily. After carefully comparing them, he chose a branch about as thick as a bowl from an unknown species of tree. Its wood was dark brown, with tightly packed grain.

He laboriously chopped it down with the woodcutter's knife. This time, he no longer used brute force blindly. Instead, he searched for the right angles and applied the lever principle, first cutting a notch, then repeatedly rocking the branch to gradually break the wood fibers. Although it was still time-consuming and exhausting, it was far more efficient than simply hacking away. Sweat soaked his forehead, but when the heavy wooden pole finally snapped with a crack and fell, an intense sense of accomplishment surged through him.

With the materials ready, the real challenge had only just begun: how could he firmly bind the stone to the wooden pole?

He needed rope. Various vines covered the courtyard wall and the old trees. He selected several kinds and tested their toughness one by one. One vine, with rough gray-brown bark, caught his attention. When he pulled hard, it proved highly elastic and difficult to break. He cut several long vines with the woodcutter's knife and peeled away their outer bark, revealing tough fibers inside. This was the one!

Now came the most critical step—processing.

First: polishing the stone axe head. The ink-green stone he had chosen was irregularly shaped and needed to be trimmed. He had no suitable hammer or chisel, so he could only use the most primitive method: finding a huge piece of coarse sandstone to serve as a "grinding bed," wetting the stone, and repeatedly grinding it against the sandstone.

"Scrape... scrape..." The grating sound echoed through the silent Small Courtyard. It was an extremely tedious and physically demanding process. Stone powder mixed with water into slurry, splattering all over him. His arms soon began to ache and swell with fatigue, but he gritted his teeth and persevered. He had only one thought in mind: he had to grind out a wedge-shaped structure that could be fitted into the wooden handle, along with a relatively sharp, curved cutting edge.

Time passed amid the monotonous grinding. The sun rose overhead, then gradually slanted westward. Chen An remained completely focused, sweat dripping onto the stone and evaporating instantly. He constantly adjusted the angle, washing the stone with water to check his progress. At last, the stubborn stone gradually began to take shape: one end had been ground into a rough but distinct edge, while the other had been shaped into a neck that would make binding easier.

Second: processing the wooden handle. He needed to split one end of the wooden pole to create a gap for gripping the stone axe's neck. Carefully, he chopped along the grain with the woodcutter's knife, gradually widening and refining the gap until the axe's neck could fit into it seamlessly. This process required immense patience and precise control. The slightest mistake could split the wooden pole. Holding his breath and concentrating, he worked as though performing delicate surgery.

Third: assembly and binding. This was the step that tested his skill the most. He fitted the stone axe head into the gap in the wooden handle and secured it provisionally. Then he picked up the prepared vine fibers. He used an ancient "figure-eight wrapping" method, repeatedly crossing the vines around the connection between the axe head's neck and the handle. With every loop, he pulled hard to ensure that every strand of fiber bore its share of the tension.

He was not merely wrapping the fibers. He was applying the principles of mechanics, distributing the binding stress evenly and maximizing its strength. After wrapping one layer, he would drive small wooden wedges he had prepared into key points, tightening it further. His fingers were rubbed red by the coarse vine fibers, and some of the skin even split, but he paid no attention.

He spent the entire afternoon repeating the motions of wrapping, tightening, and driving in wedges. The setting sun stretched his shadow long across the courtyard wall, making him look like a focused primitive craftsman.

When the last vine fiber had been knotted in place and tightened with a small wooden wedge, Chen An stopped moving.

A crude but structurally complete stone axe lay quietly in his hands.

The axe head was ink-green, its edge reflecting a faint sheen in the setting sun. The wooden handle was sturdy, and the wrapped vines were dark brown, radiating a sense of primitive power. He hefted it. Its weight was moderate, and its center of gravity was well balanced.

He took a deep breath and walked to a dead tree about as thick as his arm, one he had spotted long ago. Gripping the axe handle with both hands, he planted his feet firmly, drew power from his waist and abdomen, and swung the stone axe down viciously at the deadwood!

Crack!

A crisp snapping sound! Unlike the muffled sound of the woodcutter's knife biting into wood, the stone axe carried weight and momentum, cleaving a deep notch into the dead tree cleanly and decisively. Wood chips flew everywhere!

Chen An pulled back the stone axe and inspected the edge. It was completely undamaged! The connection was also exceptionally firm, without the slightest looseness.

He had succeeded!

An immense rush of joy and pride instantly overwhelmed him! Unable to contain himself, he raised the stone axe and let out a low growl toward the sky. This was not merely a tool. It was a weapon he had created from nothing through his own wisdom and hands. It was his capital for establishing himself in the Primordial World, and a sign that he had begun moving toward proactive survival!

He stroked the rough axe surface, feeling the solid reassurance of its weight. With it, he could chop wood more efficiently, repair the roof, make more complicated tools, and even... when necessary, possess a trace of negligible self-defense capability.

Night began to fall, and various terrifying sounds once again drifted faintly from beyond the courtyard. But this time, Chen An stood in the courtyard with the stone axe in hand. What surged in his heart was not merely relief at being able to rely on the Safe Zone. More than that, he felt the confidence that came from facing the unknown with his own strength.

The flame of civilization began with stone tools. And here, in this Primordial Wilderness, he had personally kindled the first spark.

(End of Chapter 11)