White light filled the sea cave. Three fire-gathering charms fed the portable forge. In the crucible, thirty pounds of Deep-Sea Astral Star Iron softened from dark violet metal into a bright liquid.
Pei Jing stood at the anvil in a leather apron. Turtle Breathing kept his pulse at four. He held twelve pounds of hammer in his right hand and the Cloud-Splitter in long tongs in his left.
Mo Tie had forged the old blade in Cloudford. Pei Jing had rebuilt it at Thunder Cliff with the dragon’s bones. The forty-pound cleaver had cut down the kraken, but he wanted the spine to take the force of an old sword array without passing the whole blow into his wrist.
He brought the blade to a cherry-red heat. He trimmed away six pounds of worn metal and poured six pounds of the molten star iron along the seam between steel and bone. The other twenty-four went back into an ingot to save for later.
Then he set the tongs down and took the hammer in both hands.
Clang.
Violet sparks drifted across the cave and lit the stalactites. Golden Gang Qi ran from his foundation through his wrists and shoulders. Each blow carried enough force to drive the star iron into the blade. He folded the two metals together and worked the seam until it held without gaps.
