Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 14, Ch. 15]

"I'm not sure what a full suit of armour will do for you, though," Ren said. "Surely, it would just melt. If you didn't cook inside of it."

That was a risk for sure. Conventional armour would indeed conduct heat to an incredible degree and kill me faster. But that was conventional armour. This wasn't armour, at least not properly. If someone were to take a spear and plunge it into my stomach, the tip would pierce through with ease and kill me. My breastplate was still soft, after all, still in a state somewhere between solid and liquid. More the former than the latter.

More importantly, I was still forging. So long as the heat was high, and I continued to work on the armour with my Engraving Skill, my Passive Skill considered this a work in progress. The armour was incomplete.

"Stay safe," I said. "I'll deal with Cinder."

Before they could ask how or why, I turned and stepped into the inferno. I took a breath a second before I did and held it, running a gauntlet down over my faceplate to once more cover my eyes and mouth. The fire from Phoenix could still steal oxygen and dry my eyes to the point they popped, but only if it touched me.

Right now, the fire could not. That was the thing about fire, really. It was the differences in temperature that caused the consequences of injury by fire, and no matter how it was summoned, this was still fire. It was hot, incredibly so, but fire itself did not have the energy to burn at temperatures hot enough to melt steel. That was why coal fires were used, because the coal itself would help the fires burn hotter. This had no such fuel.

When I stepped into the fire, my body – my mass – was hotter than the fire itself. The flames licked at my molten armour, but they were cooler than it. If anything, heat was stolen from me, but I kept that going from the palms of my hand, constantly using Stoke the Forge to maintain my ridiculously high temperature.

A temperature I did not – could not – feel. My skin did not burn, nor did my organs cook. Trapped as I was within the armour, my own molten steel created a buffer against the fire, a shield of hotter fire that kept Phoenix's away.

[...]

Cinder leapt back and thrust a hand out, sending a wave of searing fire towards me.

My hands tightened. Heat poured from them, bringing my armour to a new high – burning bright red as I lunged forward, one molten arm in front of my face, shielding it from the flames. Once again, the fire rolled over and around me. With my head free, I could feel it more and some of my hair singed, but I was able to keep moving and the pain was momentary.

[...]

Which was when Cinder grinned and dropped both – cupping her hands and bathing me in fire once more.

"Shit!"

Gods, it hurt. There was only a second or two to feel it before my instincts kicked in and my armour became molten once more, immune – or as immune as I was going to get – to the flames. I still had to shield my face so it wouldn't be burned, but the pain dissipated.

[...]

In the end, I chose to keep my armour molten. I couldn't hope to hurt her at range, so forcing her to close in was my best chance. It took more concentration on my part, but it also made my armour fluid and gave me a better range of movement. When I closed in on her again, pushing through her flames, Cinder caught on and stopped wasting energy, instead summoning her twin swords once more.

[...]

The metal became solid and turned her blow aside, deflecting it so that I earned a scratch and not a gaping wound.

Cinder's eyes widened, but I melted the armour once more before she could take advantage and launch a fireball up into my stomach. In the moment of hesitation, I drove forward and rammed my shoulder into her. Shocked, Cinder didn't try to block it.

She screamed in agony a second later. Cinder fell back quickly, throwing a huge ball of fire at me more to prevent any pursuit than cause any harm.

[...]

Cinder let one go and tried to throw fire in my face, but this time I ignored it, closing my eyes and fighting through the pain to continue my onslaught.

[...]

Every fireball or explosion she cast, I waded through with staunch determination and molten armour that forced the flames to part around me.

[...]

My Blacksmithing had neutralised her. Cinder's flames could not burn hot enough, her weapons could not cut deep enough, and for all her Levels, her Skills and Stats could not save her if she could not touch me.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 14]



Cinder snarled. It was almost in slow motion that she swung her arm forward, summoning a great gout of flame and hurling it towards me. I knew her thoughts as she did. I was no longer a Blacksmith, therefore my one defence against her fire was lost. In elevating myself, I'd weakened myself.

It was something well thought out.

And yet equally flawed.

Ducking low, I surged towards the fires, eyes flashing once as I shifted in a way I instinctively knew how. The words above my head changed – my perception of the world changed – and suddenly I was returned, a Blacksmith once more. My left hand touched my armour a second later and the heat was back, roaring to life as my armour turned bright red. All of it happened in the space of a few seconds and yet Cinder did not see it, her view obstructed by her own attack. I powered through it, emerging from the other side with an angry roar.

[...]

Cinder broke away, leaning back at the last second to avoid certain death. She summoned some fire, but let it go when I shifted into a Blacksmith.

[...]

With a single nod, Cinder obeyed. Her swords joined as one – becoming one far longer and larger than mine. Each slash sent a wave of fire before and after it, burning the air, and my body. Not as intense as it had been before, but simultaneous, forcing me to choose between the defence of a Blacksmith and the offence of a Swordmaster, each time I changed a drain on my stamina.

Her flaming sword nicked and cauterised my cheek, burning a scar into it. I slammed a fist into her stomach, bending her double. Cinder's free hand gripped my shoulder. Flame roared to life and tore a scream from me. My Class changed and my armour super-heated.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 15]