Read Novel Full Chapter 1122: Sweaty Hammering
Chapter 1122: Sweaty Hammering
The forge rang like a war drum. Sparks scattered, becoming molten fragments of light that clung to bare skin before fading. Quinlan’s hammer struck in brutal, flawless rhythm, and beside him, Kaelira mirrored every beat with her own. Two craftspeople—one bearing the first seventy-five percent of the Mythwright’s legacy, the other the final twenty-five—wove their strikes together.
The project was no ordinary armor.
It wasn’t built for commanders or kings. It was not meant to inspire armies.
This was armor for the primordial butcher. For a predator who would step into battle not to defend the innocents but to murder his enemies.
Kaelira swung hard yet precisely. "Careful, my lord. If you push too much mana at once, the veins will collapse. We’ve failed too many times, we’re running out of materials."
Quinlan grunted in acknowledgment before flames spiraled down his forearms as he poured fire into the piece. His hammer descended again, and firelines crawled across the half-finished chestplate. They threatened to rupture before being stabilized by Kaelira’s timely strikes.
*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*
It was brutal. Exhausting. But flawless.
Before them, Rykar stood with arms folded. His face was grim, but pride flickered behind the hard lines. Pride, the old man was doing his utmost to hide.
Kaelira’s precision, drawn from the elf’s extreme dedication to the craft both she and her teacher lived and breathed, then further bolstered by Rykar’s teachings, kept the piece alive.
Quinlan’s overwhelming power, which was sharpened for the job by the final, most dangerous portion of the Mythwright’s craft, gave it soul. Without either, the armor would have broken apart long before reaching its current stage.
The armor hissed with each impact. Sparks spiraled like golden fireflies. The sigils being carved into its blackened alloy pulsed in unison with Quinlan’s heart, flaring brighter with every breath he took. The forge itself seemed to groan under the strain.
That was until Rykar finally broke the silence. His voice rasped like a rusted gear. "Brat, you’re rushing again. Always acting like you’re in a damn hurry. Listen to my only promising student when she gives you advice. This is not a race."
Then, as if he hadn’t said enough already, the old man added with extreme displeasure and disappointment in his tone, "You damned brat."
A grunt escaped Quinlan’s lips as he lifted his hammer for the next strike. "You’re lucky I’m fucking your daughter, or I’d have knocked your artificial limbs off your stumps, you damned geezer."
"Quin!!" Serika yelped from the corner, horrified, her face flaring red.
The smithy went dead silent for a second. Even the fire seemed to hesitate.
Rykar’s eyes narrowed into fiery slits.
Then Quinlan’s hammer came down again. *CLANG!*
And just like that, the momentary silence was broken, life returned to the smithy.
Despite the venom in Quinlan’s outburst, the rhythm of his strikes had changed. Less raw, less reckless. His mana listened, becoming more honed and surgical. The armor shuddered at first, then steadied, its glow now shining with stability.
It was clear to both women that behind the insults, their lord/husband had taken the old man’s advice.
The process continued, during which the forge groaned as if it had a soul of its own. Heat shimmered in the air, warping the edges of sight, and the half-forged chestplate on the anvil pulsed with power. It wasn’t done, not even close, but anyone with eyes could see it was going to be something terrifying. Something worthy of a monster.
Quinlan’s vision began swimming as his lungs were dragging in the burning air. Sweat streaked down his face and chest in copious amounts, rolling between hard lines of muscle. His arms trembled, and his brain begged for a pause due to the sheer pace of mana he had channeled in such a short amount of time. Even his primordial brain struggled under the extreme strain.
Kaelira was no better. Her blue hair was plastered to her cheeks, while her top stuck to her sculpted torso as if it had merged with her body.
But when the final hammer strike of the process concluded, the sight before her sent a jolt of wild, giddy energy straight through her exhaustion.
"It... it worked!" she gasped with eyes shining like gemstones. Then she laughed from the bottom of her heart, releasing a raw sound full of emotions. "My lord, it worked!"
Before Quinlan could even catch his breath, the tomboy elf launched herself forward, jumping into his arms like an overeager child who’d just won a prize. Their sweat-slicked bodies collided, abs grinding against abs.
Kaelira’s eyes sparkled brighter than the embers. "This might be the best piece I’ve ever made!" She shook him by the shoulders like she couldn’t believe it. "Even master dwarves struggle to forge pieces of this quality!"
But her wild excitement had a flaw: both of them were soaked in sweat. The slick slide was immediate. Kaelira let out a squeak as her toned form began slipping right down his chest, leaving a streak of heat in her departure.
Quinlan’s reflexes kicked in. His big hands snapped under her, palms planting firmly against the girl’s cheeks to keep her from tumbling to the floor. The elf froze for half a beat, too caught up in her sparkly-eyed rambling to notice where her lord’s hands had landed. Or if she did, she could not care in this wonderful moment.
Quinlan’s grin cut through the heat. "Those hairy midgets work alone. But we..." He shifted his grip on the perky elven ass and smirked victoriously, "We’re a seamless combination, a two-in-one package. That’s something no master dwarf could match."
Kaelira’s head bobbed rapidly in full agreement, making sweat-slick strands of hair bounce as she nodded eagerly. "Yes! Yes, my lord! I’m so happy!!!"
From the sidelines, Rykar made a noise of extreme disapproval. "Hmph. Two in one, the arrogant brat says. And where exactly does the old man who handed you both hundreds of years of cultivated knowledge of the arts using his unique class fit in, eh? Out to pasture already?"
"Yeah, you should just retire, old bastard. Spend a few years with your daughters before finally keeling over."
"Quin!" Serika’s chiding voice came instantly. She loved watching the two most important men in her life work together, but their comments toward one another weren’t exactly what the fiery woman wanted to hear.
However, she knew that neither of them was serious about it; they were just bantering.
As such, her attention soon shifted, though not toward the armor. Her green eyes had dropped lower, fixed squarely on her husband’s hands molded against Kaelira’s ass. One eyebrow arched, curiosity dancing behind her amused smile.
Serika wasn’t the jealous type.
In fact, the woman was happy that the serious elf could be so overjoyed as to not even care that her husband was currently busy stroking her butt, adding it as a personal reward for himself for a job well done.
Now, it was time to let their mana reserves regenerate, their stamina replenish, and their mental capacity return to full service before continuing the crafting process.
Until the time came, and after Quinlan returned the tomboy elf to the ground, it would be time for him to explore his home, where he would find quite a lot of curiosities!