Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 12]

The sword whistled above my head as I ducked. Lacking any other options, I charged forwards to try and close the distance. Though a sword was melee, it was still in a sense a ranged weapon. Crashing into the Barbarian, I grappled with his arms and shoulders, making it so he couldn't use the two-handed monstrosity properly.

The man laughed as he fought back. "Fool! You'd challenge a Barbarian to a test of Strength? I'll crush you like a grape." The man squared his feet and used his impressive height to bear down on me with both hands.

My feet didn't move.

Sweat beaded on the Barbarian's brow as he pushed harder, muscles bulging as he dug his feet into the sand and let out a mighty roar. Hands that had no doubt crushed people's heads clamped down with the Strength of a Hero.

The sand shifted as I took a step forward.

"What?" the Barbarian hissed. "But I'm a Barbarian. My Strength is A-Ranked. You're a measly NPC!"

"Funny thing about being a measly NPC. It's that no one cares to figure out your parameters." I took another step forward, twisting my hands. The much larger, much bigger, man fell to one knee. "Everyone knows what a Barbarian does. It makes you predictable."

My eyes flashed, and heat surged through my hands.

The Barbarian's eyes widened.

"And no one bothers to learn what I can do."

The man screamed.

I could have pushed on but doubted I could keep hold of him if he tried to pull away. Instead, I surged up and kneed him in the face, toppling the brute. He fell with a mighty crash and I leapt over his body, rushing for the ruined cage I'd been dropped into the pit with.

More material, more iron. Iron made for a relatively weak weapon, but I didn't need it to be of the highest quality. I just needed it to technically be a sword. 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.

Reaching down, I picked up a new bar instead and super-heated it. When the Barbarian was all but upon me, I grinned and tossed it towards him in a lazy, under-hand swing.

He didn't fall for the trick and try to catch it, but he swung his sword to bat it away – sending a shower of red-hot sparks in every direction.

"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. A mighty crash split the arena, kicking up a wall of smoke and dust as two high-Strength Stats clashed and displaced the sand around us.

When it cleared, our swords were locked. His two-hander biting into the weak form of my new `sword`, which I gripped with both hands, one on the tang and the other on the back of the blade, stopping his.

—Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 12]