The Blacksmith Daredevil Novels & Stories

I was the blacksmith, hammering life into him with every thrust, every ragged breath spilling from my lungs. “Stay,” I rasped, voice breaking but louder than the ringing in my head. “You think you’re some legend feeding off me? You’re here ‘cause I let you. My blood. My body. My fucking fire keeping you solid.” He shuddered, his hands clutching at me, nails biting my back. His form shimmered again, half-sword, half-man, his jaw clenching like he was fighting to hold on. I slammed into him harder, chest heaving, spit flying as I growled, “I ain’t your sheath. I’m the smith. I’m the fire. I make you, Lachlan. You hear me?”

He only managed to accumulate ten thousand dollars over the course of his career despite working three jobs and sleeping just five hours per day. He only needed 1% of that to pay for his medical bills. He was hopeless. He did not want to die because he had so much hope and so many goals for his life. However, reality was harsh. The blacksmith he was working for then told him about a rumor about an underground game during his time of despair. Any epic equipment, according to the rumor, could fetch millions of dollars in that game. He made the decision to take a chance on the rumor after confirming it.

"We still have Draven's chains. The ones he broke." "Three of them," Sable said. "We forge better ones." Drift looked at Sable. "Not trade-weight. Something proper. Something built for what he is." He glanced at Nero. "There's a blacksmith at the south end of the settlement. Orren. He builds for the mountain hunters — heavier gauge than anything you'd find in market stock." He paused. "He can do it." Sable was quiet. "Sable," Drift said. "Think about what we're standing next to."

I grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him out, recognizing him at once in the dim lighting. It was the videographer from Billy's gang who had slipped through the net. He was the mastermind behind everything online, editing videos maliciously and manipulating the online trolls to attack me. He went completely berserk after I dragged him out. He pulled a sharp, spring-loaded dagger, roaring as he tried to take me down with him. I stepped to the side, neatly dodging his blade. Then, I slammed the heavy wrench into his wrist. There was a loud crack, as well as the sound of bone breaking that sent shivers down one's spine.