Time ticked away minute by minute. Xu Xian’s Storm-Rain Hammers fell sometimes in a frantic rush, sometimes with rhythmic pauses...
Forging...
Smelting...
Forging...
The pile of ore, once stacked like a small hill, was vanishing at a rate visible to the naked eye. Yet, the mass of iron on the forging table remained no larger than a millstone.
To the laypeople, it was simply a display of incredible strength. It seemed Xu Xian had inexhaustible power; under his hammer, those hard spirit ores were as soft as dough.
Fragile and yielding.
He could knead them however he pleased.
The experts were equally baffled. They could see that Xu Xian’s purification technique had reached the level of perfection, but it seemed he was trying to forge a massive raw ingot—a crude ore formed from the fusion of countless spirit ores.
This forging method was something they had never seen, nor could they understand it.
In sword forging, more ore wasn't necessarily better. Success and quality usually depended on the purity and grade of the minerals used.
However...
This endless layering and blending of different ores with different attributes seemed, in the eyes of most forgers, not only useless but counterproductive.
Thus, they could not comprehend it.
Yet...
They absolutely did not believe that Xu Xian was ignorant of such basic, elementary knowledge.
Therefore, they assumed he must have his reasons. But no one could fathom what he was trying to do; perhaps only his master, Elder Ruan, knew.
But Elder Ruan remained silent throughout the entire process. Even when Ye Xianyu tried to strike up a conversation, he merely gave a polite smile and nothing more...
As time passed...
The spirit furnaces across the square began to go out one after another. One by one, disciples of Zhujian Peak hung their heads and left the field in disappointment.
Failure...
Failure...
Failure...
This seemed to be the norm.
Some disciples were filled with regret because they couldn't purify their ore to the desired level.
Some fell at the final hurdle, failing the spirit infusion for their new blades.
And some had only come to make up the numbers in the first place. Intimidated by the grand scale of the event, they had taken Han Yi’s words to heart and simply swung their hammers with reckless abandon, regardless of the consequences.
In the end, their hands went numb, their swings went wide, and the ore was pounded into useless fragments...
Fortunately, the laypeople didn't understand. As long as the disciples didn't say anything, no one would know how embarrassing their performance had been.
Less than an hour after the start, disciples began to leave the field. The square, once packed with furnaces, gradually became sparse. Every time someone failed, an Elder would immediately appear to take away the spirit furnace and forging table...
As the two-hour mark approached...
Of the more than a thousand participants, less than half remained. The sound of hammering had quieted significantly. Many disciples had reached the final steps: spirit infusion and quenching...
In this stage, there was no need for the violent hammering of before. Naturally, those who remained possessed genuine skill and had a chance to claim the title of spirit forger.
They weren't about to swing blindly like those who had already been eliminated.
Only Xu Xian was still hammering away like a madman.
In fact, the only reason the entire venue could maintain its enthusiasm for two hours during such a tedious competition—with the crowd actually growing larger—was entirely due to Xu Xian.
The crowd’s initial curiosity and anticipation had shifted to shock and awe, and now, to a state of waiting...
They no longer cared whether Xu Xian would succeed.
They just wanted to know how much longer this Little Grand-Uncle could keep hammering and how long his stamina would last.
In fact, many disciples had already started placing bets in private.
Some said he could hammer forever; some said he could last one more hour at most; and some felt the Little Grand-Uncle was already at his limit...
Such high-intensity forging was extremely draining.
Everyone was waiting.
Waiting for the moment Xu Xian could no longer lift his hammer...
However, during this process, the shock in their hearts continued to build, and their respect for Xu Xian grew genuine.
"He's been at it for two hours. Doesn't the Little Grand-Uncle’s arm feel sore?"
"No wonder he survived back in Yecheng. With that strength, he could probably crush a nascent soul with one swing. He’s a one-man army."
"I don't even care what weapon he’s making anymore. I just want to see if he can keep hammering until dark."
"I think he can. Look at him—he’s not even out of breath..."
"Ugh, if I married the Little Grand-Uncle, I wonder if he'd break me!"
Everyone turned to look at the speaker...
"Huh?"
The female disciple blushed and said in a coy, high-pitched voice, "Why are you all looking at me like that? Am I wrong? He's so strong and has such endurance..."
Everyone rolled their eyes in unison. "Ugh!"
When the third hour arrived and the afternoon set in, fewer than two hundred disciples remained on the field.
The mountain of ore in front of Xu Xian had finally hit rock bottom. He looked at the multicolored lump of iron before him, and appearing dissatisfied, he actually ran back to the mineral pool to pick out some more.
However, unlike his previous whirlwind-like harvesting, this time he was selecting very deliberately.
The onlookers were completely numb, their eyes wide and staring.
"He's taking more?"
"Is he addicted?"
"You can tell the Little Grand-Uncle really loves blacksmithing..."
"So what? He’s not taking your family’s ore."
The master forgers of Zhujian Peak were stuck between laughter and tears. They had stopped holding much hope long ago. Although three hours remained before the end, truth be told, no one actually expected anyone to hammer for the full six hours.
At least for now, every other disciple on the field had entered the closing stages.
Within an hour, it would all be over.
Because of this, the old masters of Zhujian Peak were sighing and groaning.
It wasn't for any other reason than the fact that the results of the disciples under them were truly wretched.
Even worse than last year.
Last year’s failure was one thing since there weren't many witnesses, but with so many people watching this year, it felt even more painful.
"Sigh—such a disappointment!"
"It's over. My lineage has been completely wiped out again this year."
"Old Five, you're the only one left. You have to make me proud..."
Suddenly, one of the remaining disciples raised his hand. An Elder descended from the sky, took the sword from the table, and examined it. His eyes filled with gratification.
Then, he announced loudly:
"Fifth-generation disciple Zhao Tiechui has forged a mid-grade spirit sword and is promoted to second-rank spirit forge master!"
His voice was infused with the power of a sixth-stage cultivator’s cultivation, carrying through the booming hammers and the noisy chatter like a ringing bell. It was exceptionally clear.
Everyone present heard it distinctly.
A wave of discussion immediately swept through the mountains.
"It’s done?"
"That’s the first one today, right?"
"A second-rank spirit forge master... looks like he’ll be shedding that fifth-generation disciple title soon."
"After so many were eliminated, finally, one succeeded..."
On the high platform, an old man from Zhujian Peak stood up excitedly, shouting, "That’s my disciple! That’s my disciple! Hahaha!!"
This inevitably drew a chorus of disdain...
"Is that really necessary?"
"Making a fuss over nothing."
"Second-rank is decent, but I believe my disciple can definitely reach the third-rank..."
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