Chapter 371. I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Used to Watching Her Break the Laws of Physics

Grock rose with a deliberate, heavy grace, crossing to a shadowy far corner of the workshop. When he returned, he wasn’t carrying a wooden post or a leather dummy; he was hauling a massive, solid block of tempered steel.

It was an ugly, brutal thing thicker and more imposing than any test weight William had ever seen him employ. Grock set it down in the center of the forge floor with a bone-jarring thud that sent vibrations through the stone ground, making the hanging tools on the walls shiver and chime like funeral bells.

"Standard testing block," Grock said, his voice dropping into a gravelly register. "I use it to measure raw, unadulterated impact force before I commit metal to a design."

"Most seasoned warriors—men who have spent decades swinging maces and warhammers—barely manage to leave a scratch on this surface."

"Even with a weapon to distribute the force." He looked Kaela dead in the eye, his scarred features twisting into something primal. "Go ahead... Hit it!"

"Make sure you use full strength, girl!"

"Don’t you dare hold back. I need to see the worst of it."

William felt a familiar tightness in his chest, a cocktail of pride and genuine apprehension. He knew what she was capable of, but seeing it tested against something as unforgiving as tempered steel was different.

He watched her closely, his inner monologue a frantic checklist: ’Watch her wrist.’

’Watch the alignment of her elbow. If that bone snaps, there’s no fixing it.’

Kaela didn’t flinch. Instead, her eyes ignited with a fierce, competitive hunger.

The princess was gone; in her place stood something far more dangerous: a predator recognizing a challenge. She stepped toward the steel block, rolling her shoulders with a wet, popping sound that echoed in the sudden silence of the forge.

She cracked her knuckles theatrically, each pop sounding like a small pistol shot.

"Full strength," she repeated, her grin sharp and hungry.

"Full strength," Grock agreed.

He stepped back, crossing his massive arms over his chest, his expression alight with the gleeful, almost sadistic anticipation of a craftsman about to witness a miracle or a catastrophe.

Kaela took a breath, drawing it deep into her lungs. She settled into the stance William had beaten into her muscle memory through weeks of grueling repetition: feet planted wide, hips coiled like a spring, shoulders squared to absorb the inevitable recoil.

Her muscles corded along her arms, tension visible even through her clothing.

She wound up a vicious, explosive rotation of the hips and torso that channeled every ounce of her latent power through her shoulder, down her arm, and into the fist.

Then, she unleashed it.

The sound wasn’t the wet thud of flesh hitting wood. It was a catastrophic, metallic CRACK, a sound so loud and violent it felt like the air itself had been split apart.

It was the sound of two unstoppable forces colliding, a thunderclap that reverberated off the stone walls and seemed to rattle the very teeth in William’s skull.

The impact was obscene. Where Kaela’s knuckles had connected, the tempered steel didn’t just dent; it buckled.

The metal crumpled inward, forming a deep, ugly crater that bore the unmistakable imprint of her fist. A fine spray of sparks seemed to dance off the point of contact from the sheer violence of the energy transfer.

For several heartbeats, the world seemed to stop. The ringing in everyone’s ears drowned out the crackling forge fire.

Dust motes danced in the suddenly still air. William stared at the steel, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

He looked at Kaela’s hand, half expecting to see bone fragments protruding through skin, expecting to hear the wet crunch of shattered metacarpals.

Nobody spoke. The silence that followed was heavier than the steel block itself.

"Well," Grock said finally, his voice cracking slightly before it erupted into something far more primal.

He leaned forward, his massive face inches from the cratered steel, studying the twisted metal as if it were a holy relic. Then, he let out a booming, thunderous laugh that shook the very foundations of the forge.

The sound echoed off the stone walls like cannon fire, startling a small bird perched on the window ledge into a frantic, panicked flight. "By the gods above and below... that is without question the most promising raw material I have encountered in twenty years of hammering steel!"

"GAHAHAHAHAHA~!"

Kaela remained frozen for a moment, staring down at her fist. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving from the explosive exertion.

Her knuckles weren’t just red; they were already beginning to swell, the skin stretched tight and angry over the bone. A faint tremor ran through her forearm, the aftershock of the impact, but her eyes burned with something far more potent than pain.

A slow, wolfish grin spread across her face.

"Did you see that?" she whispered, then louder, her voice cracking with adrenaline. "I actually dented solid steel! I FUCKING broke it!"

William didn’t answer immediately. His mind was still racing, replaying the sound of that impact.

’That shouldn’t have been possible,’ he thought, his fingers twitching at his sides. ’The kinetic energy alone should have liquefied her metacarpals.’

’The fact that she’s standing is a miracle of physiology.’

"I saw it," he said aloud, finally finding his voice.

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "I don’t think I’ll ever fully get used to watching you break the laws of physics, Kaela."

"Get used to it, Instructor Wade," Kaela said cheerfully.

She flexed her fingers experimentally, wincing slightly as the tendons pulled against her bruised knuckles, but she didn’t pull away. "Apparently, this is just who I am now! A walking disaster."

Grock was already moving, his earlier awe transforming into a frantic, focused energy. He stormed over to his workbench, scattering several smaller tools aside to make room for a massive sheet of soot-stained parchment.

His charcoal pencil began to scratch against the surface with violent urgency.

"Need something with real give to it," Grock muttered, the words tumbling out in a stream of consciousness. "Impossible."

"Standard alloys will shatter... Need a layered approach... A dense, shock-resistant core, maybe a tungsten steel hybrid wrapped in something with superior dampening properties."

"Something that can swallow that energy before it reaches her wrist." He began sketching complex geometric patterns, his hands moving with surprising delicacy for someone who could crush stones. "This is going to require genuine experimentation."

"I’ll need to test metal compositions, leather binding techniques, and maybe even enchanted padding if the Aether permits."

He glanced up briefly, his eyes sharp and dangerous. "This isn’t going to be quick work. Understand that!"

"I’d rather spend months perfecting a masterpiece than rush out some half-assed gauntlet that shatters the first time you punch a dragon in its teeth."

"How long do you think it’ll take?" William asked, his eyes fixed on the sketches.

He knew the value of time, and he knew the danger of waiting.

Grock didn’t even look up. The pencil scratched harder, the sound like claws on stone.

"Give me weeks, but hmmm... Maybe more."

"This isn’t about making armor; it’s about creating an extension of her own devastating power!"

"I’m not rushing this... Not for material this promising."

"Weeks?" Kaela groaned theatrically, throwing her head back. "I just discovered my life’s purpose is becoming a living siege engine, and now I have to wait weeks to actually use it properly?"

"Good things take time, girl," Grock growled without breaking his rhythm. "Even Aetherion took considerably longer than a few weeks to forge, and your instructor here has never once complained about the wait."

Kaela turned to William, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "He definitely complained."

"I did not," William protested immediately, though his ears burned with obvious embarrassment. "I just got it after he literally finished it... well, it’s the first time we met."

"You absolutely did," she countered, stepping closer to him, enjoying the rare chance to needle him. "The first week you spent practically vibrating with impatience because you didn’t have a proper weapon to train with."

"That’s different... I was expecting just a sword from this... uh... city."

Grock let out another booming laugh at the exchange, clearly delighted by the crackling dynamic between them. "Sounds about right."

"Now, enough chatter!"

"My brain needs silence to think." He waved a soot-stained hand toward the door, dismissing them without looking up from his work. "Go on, you two!"

"Get the hell out of here!"

"I’ll send word the moment I have something real to show you!"

"Now leave me to my steel!"