Deep Silver bounced in Yun Mu's hand as he weighed the metal's heft. Then he turned and found a forging table, deliberately keeping some distance from Tang Wulin and Mu Xi.
After all, his forging style was wild, and the commotion would definitely be considerable. He might end up disrupting the rhythm of those two.
The moment forging began, Yun Mu shut out everything around him.
All he could see was the piece of Deep Silver in his hand. The palm gripping his forging hammer grew faintly warm, and even the hammerhead seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, eager to strike.
The white-haired old men below had long since turned their heads in unison. Their eyes were glued to Yun Mu's and Tang Wulin's forging tables, the wrinkles on their faces stretched taut with undisguised excitement.
"Three—two—one! Begin!"
The instant the referee's words fell, Yun Mu glanced at the Deep Silver on the forging table. The dark-gold metal had been heated until it glowed a bright red, reaching just the right temperature.
Without another word, he grabbed his forging hammer. His wrist sank sharply, and the first strike landed solidly—still that familiar single-hammer Thousand Forging, its force unbelievably steady.
Yun Mu's expression gradually turned solemn, without a trace of impatience left. Hammer after hammer fell upon the Deep Silver, neither too fast nor too slow.
The moment the hammer fell, his entire being seemed to sink into an indescribably mysterious state. The noisy voices and booming hammer strikes vanished from his ears, leaving only his own breathing and the faint tremors coming from within the metal.
It was as if he were truly conversing with this piece of Deep Silver, feeling the metal's grain unfurl and extend beneath his hammer. Every strike seemed to breathe life into the cold metal,