Can I Find Forged By Malice In Audiobook Format?

My head still does a little sword-twirl whenever someone asks about Zoro’s blades — can’t help it, I’ve been nerding out over his gear since I was a kid marking up manga pages with notes. Here’s the clearest rundown I can give, mixing what’s actually spelled out in the story with the parts where the manga/anime leaves things vague. I’ll flag when the creator gives a specific smith name versus when we only know provenance or lineage. Wado Ichimonji — This is the big sentimental one: Kuina’s sword that Zoro kept after her death. The series never gives a named blacksmith who forged Wado Ichimonji explicitly on-panel; its origin is simply tied to the Shimotsuki/Shimotsuki-style history of certain Wano swords. We do know it’s an old, high-quality blade that’s been around at least a generation (Kuina’s era) and likely much longer. So for “when,” treat it as a traditional sword made decades or centuries before the current storyline — it’s ancient by the Straw Hats’ timeline but the exact year or smith isn’t revealed. Sandai Kitetsu — This one is clearer in one sense: its name tells you who made it. The Kitetsu family/school produced a line of cursed blades: Shodai (first), Nidai (second), Sandai (third) Kitetsu, etc. Sandai Kitetsu is the third-generation blade in that line and was crafted by the Kitetsu smiths — the series frames that as a generational name rather than giving a single smith’s personal name. Again, the exact date of forging isn’t specified, but these Kitetsu swords are older, likely forged generations ago, and infamous for their curse and temperament. Shusui — This sword was a national treasure of Wano and the sword of the legendary samurai Ryuma. It’s explicitly tied to Wano’s forging traditions and long history; its exact maker’s name isn’t given in canon (at least up through the arcs I’ve read), but its provenance is clear: a very old Wano blade, centuries old within the world. Zoro acquired it after the Thriller Bark events and kept it until later handing it back to Wano in exchange for Enma. Yubashiri — Quick note: this was a lovely mid-grade sword Zoro got in Loguetown early on, but it was destroyed by Kaku. The blacksmith who produced it isn’t named in the story. Timing: a recent production relative to the story’s timeline (i.e., a store-bought blade, not an ancient relic). Enma — The replacement for Shusui. Enma’s origin is Wano and it was wielded by Kozuki Oden; it’s known for drawing out a user’s Haki and being difficult to control. The series presents Enma as an ancient, famed sword of Wano, with its exact smith unnamed in the pages I’ve read — but it’s definitely a product of masterful Wano craftsmanship, forged long before the current events of the manga. So: certain swords (Kitetsu line) carry their maker’s family name; others (Wado, Shusui, Enma) are clearly ancient Wano/Shimotsuki-style blades whose exact smiths and forging dates aren’t spelled out in the canon. I love that ambiguity — it leaves room for headcanon and fan lore — but if you’re hunting for page-after-page citations, the manga only gives so much detail. Personally, I’m always hoping Oda will drop a flashback revealing who actually hammered out Wado Ichimonji and Enma; that would be a dream scene to see drawn.

Wild detail that always sticks with me: the lore book called 'The Codex of Hollow Paths' pins the forging on a single, almost tragic figure—Maelin Emberhand, who the margins call the Emberwright. The book paints him less like a mythic demiurge and more like a weary, brilliant smith who lived in a cliffside forge. According to the Codex, Maelin forged the amulet during the Night of Falling Stars, using a fallen star's iron, a strand of moon-silk, and a single tear that the sea goddess gifted him after he saved a drowned village. The ritual was guided by Seris, the moon-priestess; she sang the binding song while Maelin hammered, and the final blow is said to have split a part of his memory into the gem at the center. I love that the Codex doesn't present this as gospel so much as a layered story: it includes eyewitness accounts, marginal sketches of the forge, and a council debate where a historian argues Maelin only fashioned the casing while Seris truly imbued the amulet's power. That debate is part of what makes it feel alive—every reader brings their own bias. There are also illustrations showing Maelin with soot under his nails and a softness in his eyes, which humanizes a figure who could easily have been exaggerated into a pure archetype. On top of the legend itself, the Codex records consequences. It claims Maelin's memories embedded in the gem can be unlocked, which explains why several later rulers obsessed over possessing the amulet: it was both weapon and archive. Scholars in the margins tie this to the disappearance of Maelin’s lineage—some say they wandered into dream-lands; others whisper they were hunted. I first read that part in a cramped secondhand bookshop, and I kept thinking about the ethics of forging objects that hold people’s minds. If you're into further digging, the Codex cross-references 'Ballads of the Sea-Giver' and a fragmentary diary called 'Ash and Memory'. Whether you take Maelin as the lone forger or as a collaborator with Seris, the story reads like a cautionary tale about craft, power, and the cost of making something meant to outlive you. I still picture him at the anvil whenever I think of that amulet.

I just finished reading 'A Touch of Malice' and I can confirm it's not the final book in the series. The author has already announced plans for at least one more installment to wrap up the storylines. While this book does resolve some major conflicts, there are still several loose threads that need addressing. The main character's relationship with Hades still has room to evolve, and the prophecy about Persephone's future hasn't been fully realized yet. The ending sets up some exciting possibilities for the next book, particularly with the introduction of new characters who seem destined to play bigger roles. If you're enjoying the series, you'll be happy to know there's more coming.

The novel 'Forged by Fire' throws you headfirst into the brutal reality of abuse, poverty, and systemic neglect. Gerald's journey isn't about some magical triumph—it's raw, ugly resilience. His survival hinges on small, desperate acts: stealing food when foster care fails, using humor to deflect bullies, and clinging to his sister like a lifeline. The fire metaphor isn't poetic—it's literal scars from childhood burns and the psychological inferno of his mother's addiction. What shocked me is how resilience here isn't heroic. It's exhausted. Gerald doesn't 'overcome'; he adapts, like learning to dodge punches so they hurt less. Even his basketball talent stems from needing an escape route more than passion. The book's power lies in showing resilience as messy endurance, not inspirational montages.

I've been deep into 'God of Malice' for a while now, and the question of sequels or spin-offs is something that comes up a lot in fan circles. From what I've gathered, there isn't an official sequel yet, but the author has dropped hints about expanding the universe. The world-building is so rich that it practically begs for more stories. There are unexplored factions, secondary characters with intriguing backstories, and entire regions of the fictional world that haven't been properly fleshed out. The main story wraps up satisfactorily, but leaves just enough threads dangling that a sequel could pick them up beautifully. What's really exciting are the unofficial spin-offs circulating in fan communities. Creative fans have written elaborate alternate timeline stories, prequels about minor characters, and even crossover fics with other dark fantasy series. Some of these are so well-written they feel like they could be canon. The protagonist's morally grey philosophy and unique magic system have inspired tons of original content. While we wait for official news, these fan creations keep the fandom alive and buzzing with theories about where the story could go next. The author's social media has been teasing something related to the 'God of Malice' universe, but they're being characteristically cryptic about whether it's a direct sequel or something more experimental. Given how popular the antihero protagonist became, I wouldn't be surprised if we get at least a short story collection exploring other characters' perspectives. The way magic and political intrigue intertwine in the original creates so many possibilities for expansion that I'd honestly be shocked if we don't get some form of follow-up eventually.

I just finished 'God of Malice' recently, and the ending left me with mixed feelings. The main character, Kieran, starts as this morally gray villain with a god complex, but by the end, he undergoes this brutal transformation that’s both shocking and fitting. The final arc throws him into a battle against the divine council, where he’s forced to confront the consequences of his actions. What struck me was how the author didn’t give him a redemption arc—instead, Kieran embraces his role as the God of Malice fully. The climax has him sacrificing his humanity to ascend as a true deity, but it’s a hollow victory. He wins the war but loses everything that ever mattered to him—his allies betray him, his love interest dies, and he’s left ruling a broken world. The last scene shows him sitting on a throne of bones, smiling, but it’s clear he’s more prisoner than ruler. The irony is thick—he wanted power above all else, and now he’s trapped by it. The author doesn’t shy away from the darkness, and that’s what makes the ending memorable. It’s not happy, but it’s honest to the character’s journey. What I appreciate most is how the ending ties back to the themes of the story. 'God of Malice' is all about the cost of ambition, and Kieran pays the ultimate price. The world-building plays a huge role too—the divine hierarchy collapses, leaving chaos in its wake, and Kieran’s reign feels like the start of something even worse. The author leaves a few threads dangling, like the fate of the surviving side characters, but Kieran’s arc is complete in the most tragic way possible. It’s the kind of ending that sticks with you, not because it’s satisfying, but because it’s brutally true to the story’s core.

Reading 'Forged by Malice' online for free can be tricky, since it’s important to respect authors’ rights and support their work. I’ve stumbled across a few sites claiming to offer free copies, but they often feel sketchy—pop-up ads, broken links, or suspicious downloads. Instead, I’d recommend checking if your local library offers digital lending through apps like Libby or Hoopla. Sometimes, indie authors even share free chapters on platforms like Wattpad or their personal websites to hook readers. If you’re tight on cash, keep an eye out for limited-time promotions on Amazon or Barnes & Noble; I’ve snagged legit freebies that way. If you’re dead set on finding it free, maybe try Scribd’s free trial—they sometimes have hidden gems. But honestly, investing in the book (or even an ebook sale) ensures the author gets paid for their craft. I’ve bought books after sampling free chapters because good storytelling deserves support. Plus, you avoid the guilt of dodgy sites and get a cleaner reading experience.

'Malice' is a masterclass in psychological subterfuge, where every revelation feels like a gut punch. The biggest twist? The protagonist isn’t the hero but the villain—his meticulous diary entries, initially framing him as a victim, are later exposed as fabrications to manipulate the reader’s sympathy. The real victim, his childhood friend, was gaslit into believing she caused her own torment. The courtroom scene unveils another layer: the ‘evidence’ against her was planted by the protagonist’s accomplice, a detective who’d been covertly aiding him for years. The final twist? The friend’s ‘suicide note’ was forged posthumously to cement her guilt, leaving readers questioning every prior assumption. The narrative’s unreliable perspective makes the twists hit harder—it’s not just about what happened, but how we were deceived into believing it.