Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 12]

Falling to one knee, I grabbed another iron bar and slammed it into the first, which had already begun to turn orange and white in places.

Come on, come on, hurry up.

Engraving to sheer away the excess material and give an edge. No hilt. I didn't have the material or time. I stretched the tang out instead and rounded it. It would hurt like a bitch when swung and probably jar my bones, but it was all I had.

The Barbarian was on his feet and charging towards me. "I'll kill you!"

"Shit. Not enough time." The forging process cut off prematurely. What I had was some short sword-shaped creation that was still burning hot. I brought it up before me but hesitated at the last second. It would take a single hit and snap in two, if it didn't bend under the Barbarian's sword entirely. It wasn't even cooled, let alone tempered.

[...]

"Quench," I hissed.

The makeshift sword let out an angry hiss of steam as its temperature rapidly dropped.

"NO!"

"Temper!"

The Barbarian roared and brought his sword down towards my head. I brought my new sword up.

—Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 12]