One month later.
Northern Waterwood Principality, northeast of Cold Wind City, Cold Wind Camp.
In the forging area of the Military Industry Camp, heat waves surged into the sky, driving away the endless chill howling in from the north. Quite a few burly men had stripped to the waist as they swung the forging hammers in their hands.
Before one forging platform, Ling Yi wore an open-front short jacket, his jade-white chest and arms exposed, dotted with beads of crystal sweat. No matter how one looked at him, he seemed completely out of place among the rough men around him.
Yet the dozen or so craftsmen present, blacksmiths or not, none dared underestimate this youth, who was not very old and was as handsome as a young master from a wealthy family.
Ling Yi's soles were locked tight against the ground. Strength rose from his calves, and his body half-turned with it. The forging hammer in his hand, three parts larger than a man's head, swung through the air in a slanted, perfect circle and smashed heavily onto a dark, red-tinged alloy blade blank on the anvil before him.
After that strike, the large forging hammer flew up with the force of the rebound. Ling Yi stepped on the pedal connected to the bellows lever, his body rapidly turning back. The forging hammer followed the momentum, drawing another circle in midair, carrying force half a measure greater than before, and once again smashed down onto the alloy blade blank, whose red glow had grown even brighter.
Clang! Clang! Clang, clang, clang—!!!
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—!
Amid the explosive, storm-like series of blows, the whistling wind stirred up by the forging hammer in the air rang on without end, telling everyone present just how terrifying the power carried in every swing of