Studying at Western University starts with a knife-forging competition

After the second round of buzzing subsided in the workshop, the staff took the three completed knives from their respective workstations and placed them one by one on the display stand next to the testing area. The camera slowly zoomed in from the rails, the lens sweeping across the three knives in turn—Greg's dark-colored stable wood hunting knife, Zach's G10-handled Bowie knife, and Lin Yuan's ebony-handled brass-guarded dagger with a leather sheath.

J. Nelson leaned out from the judges' panel, his gaze sweeping over the three knives before settling on the extra object next to Lin Yuan's dagger.

He reached out and picked up the scabbard.

The scabbard was hand-stitched from vegetable-tanned leather, with fine and even stitches. The curve of the scabbard conformed to the shape of the dagger, and the leather surface still retained the subtle texture of the wet-pressed and naturally dried material. J. Nelson turned the scabbard over to look at the stitching on the back, then turned it back, drew the dagger halfway out of the scabbard, and then put it back in, feeling how well the scabbard opening fit the blade.

"You even made a scabbard." His tone wasn't a question, but a confirmation.

"There's enough time," Lin Yuan said.

J. Nelson placed the scabbard back on the display stand, glanced at David Baker, and then looked back at Lin Yuan. "You know, this show has run for so many seasons, and no contestant has ever used a scabbard during a competition segment."

David Baker picked up the scabbard from the side and examined it, running his fingers along the stitching. "Three hours to finish the handle, sharpen, and complete the finishing touches, and you still have time to hand-sew a leather scabbard." He put the scabbard back, shook his head, and had a smile that was hard to describe as either admiration or helplessness. "Your time management skills are just as impressive as your forging skills."

Doug Maqueda didn't participate in the discussion about the scabbard. His gaze was fixed on the dagger itself from the start—the brass guard gleamed a warm gold under the light, the matte black of the ebony hilt contrasted serenely with the flowing cloud patterns on the blade, and the tiny concentric circle pattern pinned to the hilt in red copper mosaic revealed itself. He reached out and drew the dagger from its scabbard, flipped it over, and the cloud patterns on both sides of the blade appeared simultaneously under the light, symmetrical, like the same cloud seen from two different angles.

"Alright." Doug sheathed the dagger, stood up, placed his hands on the edge of the testing table, and glanced at the three knives on the display stand. "The sheaths are beautiful, but I'm not here to look at the sheaths. I'm here to test the knives."

His voice carried a pent-up eagerness. Ever since he first saw the dagger on the judges' panel in the first round, he had been waiting for this moment. Now the blank had become a finished product, with a handle and a sheath, placed before the testing table, waiting for him to push it to its limits—he had waited long enough.

The host stood directly in front of the testing area, and the camera was pointed at him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what follows is the part you've all been waiting for—the strength and performance test. Before we begin, I need to make a special point: because a piece of exceptional craftsmanship and finish appeared in this round of the competition—" He glanced at Lin Yuan, "judge Doug Macheda has decided to replace all the test items in this round with higher-strength test materials."

As he spoke, he pointed to the side of the testing area, where a row of prepared testing materials were laid out—a bundle of hemp rope that was a whole circle thicker than the standard test material, a roll of thick canvas that had been soaked in water, several three-year-old dried bamboo planks, and several frozen beef leg bones that were larger and thicker than the beef bones used in the usual tests.

"All three knives will undergo the exact same test." The host looked at Greg and Zach. "For you, this means your knives will face a more rigorous test than in any first-round test this season."

Greg's gaze swept over the thickened hemp ropes, his expression remaining largely unchanged. He looked down at the blade of his fifteen-layered Damascus steel hunting knife, then lightly ran his thumb along the surface. He knew it was unfair—his knife and Lin Yuan's knife were undergoing the same test, and Lin Yuan's knife, judging from the patterns alone, clearly used a craftsmanship that even Greg's best might not be able to replicate. But he didn't argue, his gaze steady. He was already being pulled back from the brink of elimination by Lin Yuan just to be standing here; he had no reason to complain.

Zach stood beside Greg, his hands gripping the hem of his apron, his knuckles slightly white. His knife had just undergone its final finishing touches—the cracks were smoothed away, the warping corrected, and the G10 handle fitted perfectly. But he knew in his heart that although the scars from the first round were no longer visible on the surface, he couldn't be sure whether there was residual stress inside or whether the cracks had been completely removed from their source.

Doug Macheda walked to the testing platform. Without saying much, he picked up three knives from the display stand one by one, weighed each in his hand, then put them back on the stand and turned to face the camera.

"The first test—sharpness test. Cutting hemp rope and canvas rolls."

He first pulled out a piece of thickened hemp rope from the bundle, folded it in half, tied a knot around the crossbar, then held the three knives in his hands one after the other, aimed them at the knot below the rope, and chopped down with one knife.

The first was Greg's hunting knife. The blade sliced ​​into the hemp rope fibers, cutting most of it in one stroke. He flipped the blade and made another cut, and the knot fell to the ground. The second was Zach's Bowie knife, equally swift, cutting the rope in two strokes. The third was Lin Yuan's cloud-patterned dagger. Doug gripped the ebony hilt, aimed the blade at the knot, and slashed—the knot snapped almost instantly upon contact with the blade, the sound of the fibers breaking crisp and short, making a second cut unnecessary.

Doug held the dagger up to his eyes, glanced at the blade, said nothing, and reached for the water-soaked canvas roll.

The wet canvas was heavy and dense; once soaked with water, the fibers swelled, pressing together in layers, posing a more severe test to the blade's cutting efficiency. He first picked up Greg's hunting knife and cleaved it in; the resistance the blade encountered while advancing through the canvas was significantly greater than when cutting rope. After several cuts, the roll of canvas was severed into several pieces. Zach's Bowie knife performed similarly; the wet canvas was torn apart by the blade, the cuts clean, but the speed of advancement was slightly slower than Greg's.

Finally, it was Lin Yuan's dagger. Doug gripped the hilt and cleaved into the canvas roll with a single stroke. The blade offered almost no resistance, and the wet, heavy canvas fibers were smoothly separated by the cloud-patterned dagger's edge. After several more cuts, the canvas roll was sliced ​​into several pieces, the cuts smooth.

Doug laid the three knives out in a row on the testing table and checked the blades one by one.

"Rope and canvas rolls, all three knives passed." He straightened up. "No white lines on the blades, no chipped edges. Lin Yuan's knife is slightly better in terms of sharpness, but the difference isn't significant—his blade angle is more conservative, not at its sharpest, but it's sufficient."

He put the three knives back on the display stand.

"The second item—the strength test." He flexed his wrists. "Chopping bamboo planks and cow bones."

Three-year-old dried bamboo planks, nearly as hard as hardwood, were fixed to the chopping block. Chopping them presented a double challenge to both the overall toughness of the blade and the impact resistance of the edge. Doug first picked up Greg's hunting knife, aimed the middle of the blade at the bamboo plank, and began to chop repeatedly. Each strike left a clear cut in the bamboo, severing the bamboo fibers layer by layer. The blade didn't deform, and the handle maintained a stable grip. However, the bamboo plank wasn't completely severed—after the blade had penetrated about two-thirds of the way, the remaining portion couldn't be pushed further by the weight of the blade and the impact force. Doug made a few more cuts, and the bamboo plank finally broke, but the break was jagged. The lower half was broken by the lever force on the side of the blade, rather than being directly cleaved by the blade.

Then came Zach's Bowie knife. The bamboo plank, too, didn't completely break after several cuts; the blade's penetration depth was slightly shallower than Greg's. Doug used a few more cuts to snap the bamboo plank in two, revealing a clear boundary between the cleaving and tearing areas on the cut surface—the cut where the blade cleaved was smooth, followed by a rough break where the fibers were torn. Zach stood beside his workstation, his fingers, gripping his apron, loosened slightly the moment the bamboo plank broke, but the smile on his lips vanished before it could fully open. He saw the tearing area on the cut surface.

Finally, it was Lin Yuan's dagger. Doug gripped the ebony hilt, aimed the blade at the bamboo board, and cleaved down. The sound of the bamboo splitting was crisper than the previous two cuts; the blade encountered almost no resistance after cutting into the bamboo fibers. The second cut landed precisely on the first, penetrating deeper. The third cut—the bamboo board snapped in two, the cut clean and smooth, the surface showing only the clean marks left by the blade from top to bottom, without any tearing. Three cuts, and the bamboo board was broken in two.

Doug placed the three split bamboo planks side by side on the edge of the testing table, said nothing, and turned to walk towards the cow leg bone on the chopping table.

The frozen cow leg bone was thick and dense, with hard bone layers, making it the final test of strength. Doug picked up Greg's hunting knife first, took a deep breath, aimed the blade at the thickest part of the bone, and cleaved down. A muffled thud came from the blade as it gnawed into the bone, penetrating several millimeters. He steadied the handle and continued cleaving, one strike after another, the blade slightly shifting position with each strike. By the fifth strike, the cow bone finally gave way and split in two—but the upper half of the fracture showed the marks of the blade's cleavage, while the lower half's bone layers were shattered by the repeated impacts of the blade, with bone fragments scattered on the chopping block.

Then came Zach's Bowie knife. The sound of the first cut piercing the cow bone was similar to Greg's, and the depth of the blade into the bone was also about the same. Doug continued to chop, and after several more cuts, the cow bone broke, with the boundary between the chopped area and the fractured area on the broken surface being equally clear.

Finally, it was Lin Yuan's dagger. Doug gripped the hilt, the blade aimed at the cow bone, and the entire testing platform trembled with the first strike. The blade almost sank into the bone layer, a muffled cracking sound emanating from within. The second strike, the blade continuing along the first cut, the cracking sound changing from a muffled thud to a crisp snapping sound. The third strike—the cow bone broke instantly, two pieces rolling onto the chopping block, the fracture clean and crisp, a smooth cut from top to bottom, without any bone fragments or signs of cracking. Three strikes. Just like splitting bamboo, three clean and crisp strikes.

Doug placed the dagger on the testing table and stepped back. He didn't announce the results immediately, but instead picked up all three knives one by one and examined them carefully under the light.

He started by examining Greg's hunting knife. He flipped the blade over under the light, ran it from the hilt to the tip, and then picked up a magnifying glass.

His fingers stopped at the middle of the blade.

"There's a chip here." He handed the knife to J. Nelson. "It's very small, you can only see it with a magnifying glass. It wasn't there when I was cutting the rope and canvas, or splitting the bamboo—it only appeared after I split the cow bone."

J. Nelson took the knife, walked from the base to the tip with a magnifying glass, and then put the magnifying glass down. "Microscopic chipping. The edge hardness is too high, and under repeated impacts from the cow bone, there was fatigue-induced micro-fracture. It doesn't affect the overall strength of the blade, but chipping is chipping."

Greg stood there, his lips pressed into a thin line. For a contestant who had been pulled back from the brink of elimination and finished his blade in the nick of time, surviving the rope and canvas had already exceeded his own expectations, but he accepted the result of the chipped blade.

Doug picked up Zach's Bowie knife. He turned it over and held it up to the light to examine the side of the blade. Then he saw it. About a third of the way up from the hilt, there was a new crack on the blade. The crack wasn't long, only about half a centimeter, but it ran horizontally across the blade.

"I didn't see this when I was cutting hemp rope, canvas, and splitting bamboo. It only came out after I finished splitting the cow bones." He handed the knife to David Baker.

David Baker took the knife, glanced at it under the light, and didn't use a magnifying glass. "A transverse crack. There was residual stress at the root of the previous crack; the surface was worn away, but the inside was still there. The impact of splitting the cow bone tore it open again." He put down the knife and looked at Zack. "This isn't your fault—the potential for cracking was already there in the first round, but it only surfaced in the final stage of the strength test."

Zack stood there, his fingers, which had been gripping the apron, loosened. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply lowered his head and let out a soft breath. The crack hadn't appeared when cutting the hemp rope, nor had it surfaced when splitting the bamboo planks; it held until the final hurdle—the cow bone—where his knife had extended further than he had anticipated. But a crack is still a crack.

Doug finally picked up Lin Yuan's cloud-patterned dagger. He held it up to the light, flipped it over, then flipped it back. He examined every inch, from the tip to the base, from the edge to the back. Then he handed the magnifying glass to J. Nelson, who in turn passed it to David Baker. The three of them examined it one by one. Doug put the dagger back on the testing table and removed his goggles. Beads of sweat still clung to his forehead from splitting the cow bone, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched as if he were organizing his thoughts. Then he turned to look at the other two judges on the panel.

"Sharpness test—all three knives passed. Strength test—all three knives cleaved through bamboo and cow bone. But after the tests, upon inspection, Greg's blade had microscopic chipping, and Zack's blade developed new transverse cracks." He gestured with his chin toward Lin Yuan's dagger. "This one—after all the tests were completed, the blade was intact, the body was intact, and there was zero damage."

David Baker leaned out from the judges' panel, recorded the test results of the three knives on the judges' sheet, and then adjusted his glasses.

"The test results for the three knives are clear. Greg – the overall toughness of the blade is acceptable, but the edge shows microscopic chipping after splitting cow bone. Zack – the blade shows transverse cracks, and the original problem has expanded during the strength test. Lin Yuan – the only knife that passed all tests without any damage."

J. Nelson rested his hands on the judges' table, leaning slightly forward. His gaze swept over the three knives one by one.

"Zack." His voice wasn't loud, but it was deep.

Zach looked up.

"Your knife was quenched in the first round with cracks still visible. David reminded you that grinding away the surface doesn't mean the crack has completely disappeared from the root. In the second round, you did everything you could to fix it—the warping was corrected, the cracks were ground away, and the handle was fitted perfectly. The knife held up in the rope and canvas sharpness test, and it also made it to the final stage in the bamboo and ox bone strength test. This shows that your basic skills are good, and your mindset is also good."

He paused for a moment.

"But the cracks eventually became apparent after splitting the cow bone. The testing process only considers the results. Your knife has a clear quality defect."

J. Nelson took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and put them back on. "The weakest performer this round, Knife. I'm sorry, you're eliminated."

Zack lowered his head, his lips parted slightly, but in the end he simply straightened up and nodded slightly to the judges.