Chapter Twenty-Two: Forging Giants

The morning after completing his rasp file set, Elias woke with the weight of Peter Hartwell's impossible deadline pressing on his consciousness. Three weeks to create a functional 1.9-meter claymore—a task that would challenge every aspect of his enhanced capabilities and newly completed tool collection. The familiar ritual with the enhanced barbell took on added urgency as he contemplated the sheer scale of what lay ahead.

Coffee and breakfast had become substantial affairs since his physical enhancements began demanding more fuel, but today's meal felt almost ceremonial—the last leisurely moment before diving into the most ambitious project of his career. As he sat at his kitchen table, Peter's rough sketch spread before him alongside his notebook filled with preliminary calculations, the magnitude of the challenge crystallized into specific technical problems that needed solving.

The sketch Peter had provided was artistically impressive but lacked the engineering precision necessary for actual construction. The proportions suggested someone familiar with fantasy literature rather than historical sword design, with dimensions that would create a weapon too unwieldy to be truly functional. If this claymore was going to serve as the centerpiece of a major marketing campaign, it needed to look impressive while maintaining the structural integrity to survive handling and display without breaking.

Elias began his modifications with the blade length, reducing it from Peter's suggested 2 meters to a more manageable 170 centimeters of pure cutting edge. With the addition of a two-handed grip, crossguard, and massive counterbalancing pommel, the completed weapon would stretch nearly 2 meters in total length—a truly colossal sword that would dwarf even the largest historical two-handed weapons and require extraordinary attention to balance and weight distribution to remain controllable.

The fuller design required particular consideration for a blade of this size. Too shallow, and it would provide insufficient weight savings; too deep, and it would compromise the blade's structural integrity under the stresses of its own considerable mass. He calculated a progression that started narrow and relatively shallow near the crossguard, widening and deepening toward the middle third of the blade before tapering back to nothing in the final quarter. This would remove the maximum amount of unnecessary material while preserving strength where it was most needed.

Blade thickness presented another complex calculation. The steel needed to be substantial enough to handle the weapon's scale without becoming so thick that the edges couldn't achieve proper sharpness. He planned a progressive taper from eight millimeters at the ricasso down to two millimeters at the tip, with the fuller allowing for additional material removal in the central section. The geometry would create a blade that felt massive but remained functionally sharp along its entire edge.

The pommel design occupied several pages of calculations as he worked out the counterweight requirements. A blade of this size and mass would be completely unmanageable without a substantial pommel to shift the balance point closer to the wielder's hands. He sketched a design that drew inspiration from historical examples while scaling up to match the weapon's proportions—a wheel pommel with carefully calculated mass distribution that would bring the balance point to approximately fifteen centimeters forward of the crossguard.

The completed weapon would be staggering in its dimensions—a 170-centimeter blade extending from a substantial crossguard, with a two-handed grip measuring approximately 28 centimeters and crowned by a massive wheel pommel adding another 7 centimeters. The total length of more than 2 meters would make this not just a large sword, but a weapon that pushed the absolute boundaries of what could be considered practical, even by the standards of medieval warfare.

With the basic design parameters established, Elias turned his attention to material selection. For a project of this scope and timeline, steel choice would be critical. He needed something that would forge readily, heat-treat predictably, and provide the performance characteristics appropriate for a functional display piece that might need to withstand occasional handling.

6150 steel emerged as the ideal choice after considerable research and calculation. This variant of 5160 spring steel included vanadium additions that refined the grain structure and improved impact resistance—exactly what was needed for a large blade that would experience significant stress from its own weight. The composition of 0.60% carbon, 0.85% manganese, 0.80% chromium, and 0.15% vanadium would provide controlled flexibility while remaining resistant to warping during the heat treatment process.

The steel's reputation in the sword-making community sealed his decision. Modern combat katanas and functional historical reproductions frequently used 5160 for its combination of toughness and workability. The target hardness of HRc 52-55 at the edges, with differential tempering to leave the spine softer and more resilient, would create a blade that could survive the handling demands of a marketing campaign while maintaining the aesthetic impact Peter needed.

After finalizing his design modifications and material specifications, Elias prepared a clean technical drawing that incorporated his engineering improvements while preserving the visual impact of Peter's original concept. The sketch showed precise dimensions, cross-sectional views of the blade profile, and detailed specifications for the fuller geometry and pommel counterweight. This wasn't just artistic interpretation—it was a complete engineering blueprint for creating a functional weapon of legendary proportions.

He photographed the drawings and emailed them to Peter with a note explaining the modifications and requesting confirmation before beginning material procurement. With the design work complete, his attention turned to the practical challenges of actually forging something this large in his workshop.

The first problem was immediately obvious as he measured his current gas forge against the planned blade length. His existing forge, while adequate for normal sword work, fell drastically short of the 170-centimeter blade length he intended to create. Even with the ability to work sections of the blade sequentially, he needed a forge capable of maintaining consistent heat across at least 160 centimeters to ensure proper forging temperatures throughout the process.

Calculations revealed that he would need at least two additional forges of the same size as his current unit, arranged in a horizontal line to create the extended heating capacity required. The setup wouldn't be ideal—managing heat distribution across three separate chambers would require constant attention and precise coordination—but with his enhanced pliers providing perfect workpiece control, it should be manageable.

Research into local suppliers led him to a metalworking equipment dealer in Ronkonkoma who maintained an inventory of the gas forges he needed. A phone call confirmed they had two units in stock that matched his existing forge specifications, and for an express delivery fee, they could have them at his workshop by the following morning. The cost was substantial but unavoidable given the project's timeline constraints.

After placing the order and arranging delivery, Elias turned his attention to the second major infrastructure challenge: quenching and tempering a blade of this size. His current quench tank, adequate for normal sword work, was completely inadequate for a 170-centimeter blade that would need rapid, even cooling to achieve proper heat treatment.

The solution required improvisation with readily available materials, but the scale of the project demanded more than just a simple wooden container. He gathered lumber from his storage area and constructed a rectangular frame approximately 2 meters long, 30 centimeters wide, and 25 centimeters deep. The joints were secured with screws and reinforced with corner brackets to handle the substantial weight of oil and steel the container would need to support.

Understanding that direct contact between hot oil and wood presented both a fire hazard and a structural weakness, Elias lined the entire interior with 22-gauge galvanized steel sheets. Each sheet was carefully measured and cut to fit the container's dimensions, with seams overlapping by at least 2 centimeters to ensure complete coverage. High-temperature silicone sealant rated for temperatures exceeding 315°C was applied to all seams and connections, creating a barrier that would prevent oil from reaching the wooden frame while containing any sparks that might occur during the quenching process.

The galvanized coating on the steel sheets provided additional corrosion resistance against the quenching oil, while the gauge thickness offered sufficient structural strength to maintain the container's shape under the thermal stresses of rapid temperature changes. The overlapping seam design created redundant protection against leakage, essential when dealing with the large volume of expensive quenching oil the project would require.

Fire safety demanded additional precautions beyond the steel lining. Elias applied two coats of sodium silicate solution to the exterior wooden surfaces, brushing the water glass evenly across all exposed wood. The sodium silicate dried into a ceramic-like coating that would provide flame-retardant properties, creating a barrier between the wood and any potential oil fires that might occur during the quenching process.

For areas of highest risk—particularly around the rim where oil splashing was most likely and at the corners where structural stress concentrated—he prepared a paste of vermiculite powder mixed with additional sodium silicate. This fire-resistant compound was applied in a thick layer to these critical zones, creating enhanced protection where the dangers of fire or structural failure were greatest. The vermiculite's natural insulating properties would help contain heat, while the sodium silicate binder formed a durable, flame-resistant surface.

The completed quench tank represented a careful balance between expedient construction and essential safety considerations. While improvised from readily available materials, the steel lining and fire-retardant treatments transformed it into a container capable of safely handling the extreme conditions of quenching a massive blade. The construction wasn't elegant, but it incorporated the protective features necessary for working with large volumes of hot oil and red-hot steel in a workshop environment.

The improvised quench tank construction consumed most of the afternoon, and by the time he had applied the final sealing compound, evening had arrived. His enhanced metabolism was making pointed demands for fuel, and the mental fatigue of intensive design work combined with physical construction had left him genuinely exhausted for the first time in weeks.

Dinner was substantial—his body's enhanced recovery systems seemed to require not just more food, but more variety and higher quality nutrition to maintain peak performance. As he ate, he reviewed his preparations and timeline. The forges would arrive in the morning, followed by the complex process of integrating them into a functional extended heating system. Material procurement would need to happen within the next day or two to maintain his schedule, and the actual forging would need to begin by the end of the week to have any hope of meeting Peter's deadline.

The next morning began at seven with coffee that had evolved into something approaching a full breakfast in liquid form, supplemented by enough solid food to fuel the demanding day ahead. By 7:55, the delivery truck was pulling into his driveway with the two additional forges that would make his ambitious project possible.

The delivery driver seemed impressed by the weight and quantity of equipment being delivered to what appeared to be a small residential workshop, but accepted payment and departed without comment. Elias spent the next hour carefully inspecting the new forges, verifying that they matched his existing unit's specifications and contained all necessary components for immediate installation.

The integration process proved more complex than anticipated. Simply arranging three forges in a line wouldn't provide the coordinated heating he needed—the gas supplies needed to be synchronized, the burner pressures balanced, and the overall system configured to maintain consistent temperature across the entire length. This required welding support structures to maintain precise alignment, fabricating gas distribution manifolds, and creating control systems that would allow him to manage the extended forge as a single unit.

The welding work tested his enhanced tools and improved physical capabilities as he positioned heavy steel components with his supernatural grip strength and cut precise joints with files that sliced through metal like cheese. The Nemean Lion's claws had found immediate practical application, allowing him to modify the forge mounting hardware with an ease that would have been impossible with conventional tools.

By early afternoon, the extended forge system was complete and ready for testing. Three identical gas forges now functioned as a single unit, capable of maintaining forging temperatures across nearly 160 centimeters of steel. A single gas control valve managed fuel flow to all three chambers through a custom-fabricated manifold, and temperature monitoring systems ensured consistent heat distribution throughout the length.

The improvised quench tank waited nearby, its wooden construction sealed and ready to be filled with the specialized quenching oil that would be necessary for proper heat treatment of the massive blade. Support structures were in place to handle the weight and unwieldiness of a 170-centimeter piece of heated steel during the critical moments of heat treatment.

Standing in his transformed workshop, surrounded by the specialized equipment that would make his impossible project possible, Elias felt the familiar excitement that came with pushing the boundaries of what seemed achievable. The infrastructure was complete, the design was finalized, and the enhanced tools that would be essential to the work waited in their silver storage necklace against his chest.

But as he surveyed his preparations, his enhanced metabolism reminded him with pointed hunger that even supernatural capabilities required proper fuel. It was nearly two in the afternoon, and the demanding morning of fabrication work had consumed considerable energy. Before he could begin the final preparations for material procurement and the start of actual forging, he needed sustenance appropriate to the scale of what lay ahead.

The giant's forge was ready. Tomorrow, the work of creating a weapon worthy of legends would begin in earnest.