Thick white smoke surged into the sky like a long dragon, and the originally glowing red blade turned silvery-white, emitting a bone-chillingly crisp gleam.
"Such gorgeous hammer marks..." the old blacksmith marveled.
Upon the blade surface were the steel grains formed by Chu Feng's millions of hammer strikes, shaped like dragon scales overlapping layer upon layer.
The setting sun's afterglow poured through the window onto the Mò Dāo, and the entire body of the blade turned a golden-yellow.
At this moment, this giant Mò Dāo over a zhang long truly resembled a divine weapon and sharp weapon, possessing a spiritual nature...
Chu Feng gripped it with both hands, the anti-slip hammer marks of the hilt interlocking seamlessly with his palms.
"Boom..."
Chu Feng swung it casually, and the refined-iron hammer left upon the forging table split into two halves with smooth-as-a-mirror cuts.
"Such a razor-sharp blade. I wonder who can withstand a full-force blow from me?"
Chu Feng gently stroked the blade, feeling the hammer patterns forged through millions of blows, growing fonder of it by the moment as he recalled his days of grueling labor.
The old blacksmith glanced at the hammer broken into two sections and remained silently quiet.
"Senior master, please give this blade a name."
After toying with it for a while, Chu Feng handed the Mò Dāo over to the old blacksmith.
The old blacksmith hurriedly retreated far away; he dared not hold this Mò Dāo. At over eight hundred catties, once it toppled over, it could smash him into a meat patty.
He could only crane his neck, looking at it with a mixture of affection and resentment.
"You want me to name it?"
The old blacksmith found it a bit hard to believe, seeing as he had merely stood idly by the whole