The ninth day of the seventh month. Everything was auspicious.
Within the gates of the Heavenly Sword Gate, everyone from the sect master down to the personal disciples and Combat Sword Cultivators had gathered atop Dragon Head Peak, because today was the day the Heavenly Sword Gate opened its furnace to forge swords.
Other sects could only forge one sword each time they opened their furnaces.
But the Heavenly Sword Gate forged a hundred at once.
This was not Zhang Yang showing off. He had keenly felt the pressure bearing down on him, so he had sped up his farming progress.
At that moment, a massive iron pool fifty meters in diameter sat atop Dragon Head Peak. Inside it, fifty thousand jin of Mortal Iron, five thousand jin of Mortal Copper, and five hundred jin of Mortal Silver had been casually piled together.
These were the materials for forging a hundred Mortal Grade Swords. It was an outrageously lavish setup.
Any Fire Artisan Disciple who came here would probably shake their head. This was no sword forging—it was clearly an attempt to make mutton offal soup.
But Zhang Yang had his own confidence.
After muttering incantations for a while, he pointed into empty space and shouted, "Fire, come!"
Thirty enormous fireballs swiftly appeared hundreds of meters in the air, each one ten meters in diameter.
But the fireballs did not descend. Instead, they began circling around Zhang Yang in a bizarre formation.
This was no miraculous spell. It had merely been driven by the Fourth Mana Framework. Of course, the mental effort and Soul Power it consumed were enormous.
However, Zhang Yang was now a Soul Cultivator with his own Soul Domain. The thing he feared least was soul consumption.
After more than ten seconds, the thirty enormous fireballs finally