Blade Tempering Novels & Stories

I pressed against her back and moved her hand to one of my favorite blades. “This is a Poshland RAM-21. The spiral blade is painful because of the spiral wound it creates and definitely makes it much bloodier. They struggle to heal, and if they do somehow manage to heal, they will be left with serious damage from the muscles and nerves,” I said softly into her ear. Brynn tilted her head, carefully running her thumb along the dull part of the blade. She grabbed it and placed it on the table beside us. Then I moved her hand to another one. There was something incredibly hot about this right here, and I was certain that she could feel my rising lust just like I was feeling hers.

"This sword is 50 inches long, forged from Arctic Steel. It has poison… Anyone it slashes will die! Take this!" The next instant, Shingen flash-stepped and instantly appeared in front of Harvey. The longsword in his hand slashed down at Harvey's forehead. It was just a simple blade, but the entire stage's temperature instantly reduced to around 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Everyone who was watching instantly shuddered, as if they were suddenly inside a freezer.

We just passed the 12 weeks mark. “Rissa and Gabe will help you practice and get used to it.” I just nodded and pulled the knife from its sheath. It was beautiful in its own deadly way. I didn’t know shit about knives, but I was sure you can kill pretty easily with a blade like this. “The blade is a high density silver alloy, so don’t cut yourself,” Gabriel chimed in. “I won’t.” I gave him an offended look as I put the blade back and closed the box on it.

"The metal... pull it out..." "No," I snarled, my teeth bared as I shoved my weight down, driving the blade an eighth of an inch deeper to anchor it against his bone. "We use it." I didn't try to summon a flame to fight Vane. Instead, I opened my core entirely, letting the volatile, hybrid warmth flood straight through my arms and into the iron blade. The imperial steel didn't melt; it turned a blinding, radiant white-hot, transferring the immense thermal energy directly into Killian’s collarbone and down into the dead, frozen nerves of his left side.

[A brief silence, Claude inhales heavily before speaking. “That Buster Sword’s blade… is made of Tungsten.” Claude added. “What!?” Martha’s expression. “No way! I thought Tungsten isn’t a good idea for a sword, knowing that it reduces someone’s physical attribute including speed, dexterity and agility.” Clark replied. “That is the reason why we use 1045 or 1060 Carbon Steels that Salvagers collected for swords, it gives a good hardness and balance weight to every Swordsman.” Martha explained. “There are two things that bothers me and baffles in my mind.” Claude confessed.

“You stitch, I sharpen?” Rin eyed the mangled seam he’d attempted earlier. “That bad?” she asked. “It will not survive another rain,” he said. She took it, turned it over, and bit back a smile. “Give me that,” she said, nodding at the whetstone. “Before you decide, the best way to protect your blade is to take half the metal off.” They worked in companionable quiet, her fingers moving in even stitches, his hands guiding steel along stone in sure strokes. Firelight warmed their faces; the low murmur of the others’ conversation filled the space around them.

"They will see your Tempered Heart as a pollutant: a chaotic heat that threatens their stillness. They will not negotiate. They will try to weave the frost into your very marrow." While the elders spoke of prophecies: my sons were preparing for the physical reality of the ice. In the courtyard: Leo and Toby led the integrated packs through a final: brutal training session. They were testing the Tempered Armor: a masterpiece of Julian’s engineering that utilized the quartz plating of the Silver Moon and the thermal energy of the Sun Pack. As the warriors sparred: their armor glowed with a beautiful: violet gold light: creating localized heat zones that resisted the mountain’s own evening chil

said Salladhor Saan, "and be glad of that, my friend. Do you know the tale of the forging of Lightbringer? I shall tell it to you. It was a time when darkness lay heavy on the world. To oppose it, the hero must have a hero's blade, oh, like none that had ever been. And so for thirty days and thirty nights Azor Ahai labored sleepless in the temple, forging a blade in the sacred fires. Heat and hammer and fold, heat and hammer and fold, oh, yes, until the sword was done. Yet when he plunged it into water to temper the steel it burst asunder. "Being a hero, it was not for him to shrug and go in search of excellent grapes such as these, so again he began. The second time it took him fifty days a

The main lesson was to not show their powers outside the Small World. Days turned into weeks, and Betty and Carol broke through the first stage of Body Life Destruction. On the days they broke through, they almost gave up on their cultivation due to the pain. “Why is it so painful?” Carol asked, lying on the grass with sweat. “The body goes through a restructuring, and the bones are now ten times more durable than before. The first three are the worst of this body tempering; it will get better afterward.” Blake explained. They had to go through bone tempering, tendons, skin, and muscle tempering in the first three then the rest of the body followed. The body’s shell must be more vital to acc

“You will work as one. Borin explains the theory. Holden adapts the craft. Every step is approved by both, or it is not taken.” The first sessions were a war of scowls and grunts. But then, examining the shards of the failed trigger, Borin pointed a calloused finger. “See? A cold-shut fracture. The metal was poured too cool.” Holden, his pride still wounded, snorted. “Aye. The furnace couldn’t hold the heat you demanded. We need a forced-air bellows on the main forge. A design from the northern mines.” It was a statement of fact, not a concession.