Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 1, Ch. 2]

With a final hiss of bubbling oil and one last check to be sure the tip was straight, I removed the still-hot spearhead from the oil and reached for one of the staves propped up beside the forge. Holding the cap over the end, I used the heat still radiating through the metal to burn and sear the wood, moulding it into the spearhead, then driving a single rivet through both, twisting and snapping the ends to lock it in place.

One more spear. I let it fall into the completed weapon rack and wiped the seat from my face.

"Are they finished, sir?" a voice asked.

"Those are good to go," I said to the first year stood awkwardly off to the side. Only a year or so younger than me, he still somehow managed to both look and act like a child, staring at me in awe. "Drop them off at the armoury."

The boy nodded and picked up the ten or so spears in both hands, then looked over as I rose. "You're leaving…?"

"I'm taking a break. Preferably before I collapse."

"What about me?"

"What about you?" I asked, not feeling quite as charitable as I could have. In my defence, I'd been forging for five hours straight. "Go drop those off and then see Miss Goodwitch if you've still got energy. She'll find something for you to do."

"Yes sir!"

"I'm not-" The boy was already gone. "Never mind."

Staggering out of the forge on legs left unsteady after hours of being sat down, I basked in the warm afternoon sun, which was still a damn sight cooler than my forge had been. While my Passive protected me from the fire effects of my forging, it didn't do much to protect me from the heat caused by every other facet, from hot oil to smoke and ash and just the heat dissipating from weapons as they cooled outside of my control. All of it had the insides of the forge burning as hot as any baker's oven.

My body was covered in sweat, too. My outfit, little more than a cotton tunic over breeches, was as light as I could manage without going topless yet was still stuck to my body and damp under both arms and across my back. A pounding rhythm was beating away in my skull, evidence of overexertion of Skills and the rigours of pure concentration. I was more mentally exhausted than physically, and my Constitution could have kept me going for longer if I let it.

I'd just go insane if I did. A man could only do one task for so long.

Though I had lost count long ago, I was sure I'd done at least a thousand spears today alone, added to the thousands I'd created in the last few days. Ozpin's armoury was bustling, stocked faster than the headmaster could empty it. A thousand upon a thousand upon a thousand. It seemed like so many and yet it wouldn't equip even a portion of the civilian population of Vale, who numbered over one hundred thousand.

I had to assume most of those would not be expected to fight – children and those too young or old to make a difference. If even half had to, however, then I was unsure if I'd have enough time to equip them all. I was but one man, and while other Blacksmiths, Fletchers and craftsmen in the city would be working on churning out weapons of their own, there was no doubting the fact mine were of a higher quality, and not just because of the Runes. I could forge sharper, stronger and straighter weapons. I could work with rarer material and use my Engraving to shed weight in difficult to reach places. I could custom fit it to someone in a matter of an hour and not days.

But I was still only one man.

[...]

I've fought monsters, faced the Greycloaks, challenged Raven and, in the last few hours alone, forged over one thousand spears for the defence.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 1]



"Nothing as of yet," Ozpin said in a vain attempt to keep the matter inconclusive. "Only time will tell for sure. In the meanwhile, I think it would be best to continue making advanced weaponry for the garrison. Should you have any ideas for Runes, feel free to investigate them, but I must ask that the equipment be your greatest concern. Even if we have other Blacksmiths who can forge weaponry, none can make it as quickly or as high quality as you. We have over a hundred and fifty thousand Labour Caste members to equip. Every Blacksmith in the city working every hour of every day won't be able to fulfil that."

"I get it. I'll keep working."

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 2]