Blacksmith Daredevil Novels & Stories

The only light that brightened up the place was the light of the flames he worked with, and the sound of hammering could be heard from inside. “Wow, that came out looking really good,” he said, staring at the piece of metal being hammered. “I know, right? I want to create the sharpest, strongest sword ever made in the history of mankind. A sword capable of cutting through a steel block with a small amount of swing force,” Vincent’s apprentice said with a smile as he used his thongs to put the metal back into the forge; his name was Darwin. Darwin had black hair, bright orange eyes, and was just 19 years old.

“Our local blacksmith is a very mysterious Slayer, full of surprises, but a good fellow. He isn’t from around here but everybody adores him just the same. Oh, and have I mentioned he’s blind?” “Blind?!” Temujin and Aki echoed. “Oh yes, that’s right. Completely, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t challenge him to a spar though on account of that, for he can put any able-bodied Slayer to shame. Also, he very much prefers a simple and private life.” “Oh, I’ve heard of this blacksmith,” Sasha jumped in. “He’s the one who makes most of the blue Slayer suits by cooking the tree-drops in a stove. Somehow he knows how to combine fire and wind techniques.”

​The iron lever in Damian’s hand made a sickening thud as it connected with the technician’s shoulder, a sound that resonated through the cramped metal locker. Adrenaline is a liar it convinced Damian he wasn't bleeding out, and it convinced me I could take on a professional mercenary with a tin plate.

They were members of the Iron Claws, mercenaries who reeked of dried blood and ancient hatred. “Dante Blackwood has a refined taste for weak spots,” hissed the one who seemed to lead the trio, a man with yellowish eyes and scars that looked like teeth marks on his neck. “Let’s see how he reacts when we send you back to him in pieces.” The man advanced with an agility that defied gravity. Helena retreated, but the gravel betrayed her. Before the attacker’s hand could close around her neck, the world exploded in a roar of metal and fury. Dante’s motorcycle leaped from the side embankment, colliding with one of the aggressors in mid-air. The impact was brutal, a sound of bones breaking that ech

— declared the red-haired blacksmith. — You'll have more time to work for us! You stay here until breakfast, don't you? — asks the skinny long-bearded blacksmith whom I give the coal bag. — I will do my best to help! —I answer and give the gray-haired blacksmith the copper bag. — With men missing, even half a man already helps! — He answers. I now had my anvil and hammer. My task was just to put pieces together and heat the metals, but I have to admit that a blacksmith's job is very cool! Turning the iron rod into a sword or shield is difficult and tiring, but cool.

The prince of the rouges growled. Drake was panting, gasping for air. He closes his eyes, feeling the presence of the beating heart. As he opened his eyes, it was blood red. He wore the devil's eye. It was cold, dark, mysterious, and dangerous. The prince of the rouges steps backward, trembling. He didn't try to struggle off the chain; he just wore his dangerous lopsided grin.

He climbed out of the earth like a demon rising from hell. He was covered in dust and blood. His left leg was made of black stone. And in his hand, he held a Hammer that looked like a tombstone. "Dad?" I whispered. Damian stood up. He looked at the charging Peacekeeper. He didn't dodge. He swung the Hammer. CRACK. It wasn't a sound. It was a tectonic event. The Hammer hit the Peacekeeper. The soldier didn't fly backward. He ceased to exist. The force of the impact atomized the armor, the flesh, and the void energy instantly.

"We don't need a smithy. Brandur says there is something called a 'Home Depot' where supplies are to be had already created." "Hmmm…yes, I remember something about that." Birger pulled at his beard in thought. "I definitely think I would like to travel to visit this place. Truly, things here are miraculous, are they not?" Erik had opened his mouth to respond when his eyes suddenly widened in fear. He grappled instinctively for his weapon on his back but he realized with dread it wasn't there. They had all quit carrying their large broadswords in this place. "Wolf!" he choked out.

Who knew how long I was going to be in this dark, smelly place without food or water. "Mother, please give me strength," I whispered slowly, trying to comfort myself, for I knew this was just the beginning of my journey. ...... "The girl, how's she?" A young man with stricken features asked as he adjusted himself on his chair. He was dressed in a black suit, which made him look like the devil. Damian was a hired mercenary, a merciless killer who had been trained for years to skillfully eliminate important figures in society. Merely looking at him, he appeared human, but being trained in the laboratory made him stronger, as he had undergone a series of experiments since he was a child.

I would still send him home tonight feeling lost. Just then, Dante walked up between us in his tall frame. “You both will ride with the spirit of the brotherhood. You are not allowed to die. If you fall, you rise again.” That was all he said before turning his back and leaving us alone. I didn’t need his motivation. I was ready for this. And thankfully, I had been using the painkiller Dr.Vance gave me to numb the tremble in my left arm. My jaw flexed, teeth grinding as I straddled the beast beneath me. The hell-bound bike was unlike anything street legal—matte black frame, skeletal structure, raw engine growl that sounded more alive than machine. The handlebars vibrated hungrily like it want