"Sir! They're all here!"
Wu Man hurried into the courtyard, still holding the communicator Zhou Zhengde had given him.
Daoist Wang responded, lowering his head to continue focusing on forging. "Don't rush. Let Shen handle them for now. I'll first observe what these big-shot researchers are saying."
Zheng Shiduo, drowsing by the second-floor window, could not help yawning as he sighed.
"Boss, you really aren't sleepy at all. I'm barely holding on."
"If you can't hold on, go rest," Wang Jixuan said with a smile. "Don't compare yourself to me. I can go days and nights without sleeping."
When it came to sleeping, he had been modest.
A cultivator's only rest was meditation. Unless they were injured or had expended too much mental energy in battle, they would only then fall unconscious or choose to sleep for a while.
Daoist Wang continued hammering away.
His rhythm grew faster and faster, yet each strike contained less and less spiritual energy. The longsword in his hand had already begun to glow with a faint cyan light.
A pale gray sword ridge ran down the center of the blade, with nearly transparent restrictions spreading from the ridge toward its edges.
The blade was thin as a cicada's wing, while the sword body was incomparably hard.
Wang Jixuan had forged it as a spellcasting tool, not for directly swinging it at people.
Different restrictions were hidden in its ridge, hilt, and guard. They slightly amplified wind and lightning spells, moderately enhanced the sharpness of mana when transformed into sword qi, and greatly reduced the mana consumed when using Earth Escape.
A longsword that had nearly reached the threshold of a magic treasure deserved a name.
Wang Jixuan picked up the sword and examined it closely before flicking it with a finger.
Its ringing hum