Thousand Refinement

The forging room was already filled with scorching heat in the early morning.

When Bai Lin's small figure appeared at the door, Mang Tian was staring thoughtfully at a crimson metal billet.

He raised his head, his gaze sharp as fire, instantly catching the aura around Bai Lin—clearly more solid and restrained than yesterday—as well as the faint fluctuations unique to Soul Masters, subtly resonating with the energy of heaven and earth.

A rare, almost gratified smile cracked across Mang Tian's usually stern face, like ice beginning to thaw.

"Your aura has risen quite a bit."

"So, you succeeded?"

"Mm!"

"Teacher, I've become a Soul Master!"

Bai Lin nodded vigorously, his little face brimming with undisguised excitement and pride, his voice crisp and loud.

"Where's your Soul Spirit?"

"Summon it and let me see."

Mang Tian set down the tool in his hand, clearly intrigued.

Bai Lin did as instructed, his thoughts stirring slightly.

A resilient Blue Silver Grass, shimmering faint gold all over with veins woven like golden threads, unfurled from his palm. The edges of its blades faintly carried the cold, hard texture of metal.

Even more eye-catching was the bright, pure yellow Soul Ring, as though forged from gold, slowly rising from beneath his feet and radiating powerful, steady energy fluctuations!

"A hundred-year Soul Ring!"

Even with Mang Tian's vast experience, his pupils contracted slightly, and obvious shock appeared on his face.

He blurted out instinctively,

"Old Tang..."

"Did he empty out his entire savings?"

He knew all too well what an enormous burden it was for an ordinary family to buy a hundred-year Soul Spirit.

Bai Lin hurriedly shook his head and briefly explained his "good luck" with the random Soul Spirit.

"Random..."

"A hundred-year Golden Light Python..."

After hearing him out, Mang Tian looked somewhat dazed.

He stared blankly at Bai Lin, his gaze complicated before finally turning into a long sigh filled with envy and emotion.

"Your luck..."

"It truly is..."

"Defying the heavens."

"Why didn't something this good happen to me when I was young?"

He shook his head, as though trying to throw off that unrealistic envy.

Just then, a tiny streak of golden light slipped out from Bai Lin's sleeve and affectionately curled around his wrist.

It was the miniature Golden Light Python Soul Spirit—Golden Language.

It raised its tiny head, its cold vertical pupils curiously surveying the unfamiliar surroundings.

Yet upon closer inspection, one could see that its once pure golden scales now carried threads of deeper, dark-gold luster, as though time itself had settled within them.

A faint, icy aura far surpassing the level of a hundred-year Soul Spirit, an aura belonging to the top of the food chain, quietly spread from its tiny body like ripples across water.

Last night, in a dark corner of the sea of consciousness, Hei Lin had attempted to inject an extremely faint trace of Golden Dragon King origin energy into Golden Language's body.

However, the level of a hundred-year Soul Spirit was simply too low. Merely brushing against the edge of that supreme power had made Golden Language's spirit body tremble violently, nearly collapsing.

Hei Lin decisively stopped, but a blueprint had already formed within his cold thoughts.

"A hundred-year Soul Spirit is still far too weak."

"But with gradual infusion over time..."

"One day, Golden Language will undergo a transformation."

"This little fellow..."

"Its aura is unusual."

Mang Tian's sharp gaze fell upon Golden Language. The top predator aura that differed so greatly from an ordinary hundred-year Soul Spirit made him raise his brows slightly.

Though he did not understand why, his instincts told him that this Soul Spirit was anything but simple.

He looked at Bai Lin, his gaze once more becoming solemn and appreciative.

"Not bad. Truly not bad."

"Your talent, your opportunities..."

"They far surpass what I had back then."

He paused, seemingly suppressing the emotion in his heart completely. His expression returned to the stern seriousness of a forging grandmaster.

He walked over to a special workbench. Resting quietly atop it was a metal ingot about the size of a human head, grayish-white in color yet faintly gleaming with a cold metallic sheen—Heavy Silver.

"Now that you've become a Soul Master, both your Soul Power and physique have risen to another level."

Mang Tian's voice was low and powerful, carrying the solemnity of opening a new chapter.

"Together with your inborn divine strength and your sufficiently solid foundation..."

"It is time to attempt the first true threshold for a forger—Thousand Refinement!"

"Thousand Refinement!" Bai Lin's eyes instantly shone with astonishing brightness!

His heart pounded wildly with excitement!

He knew what this meant!

Once he mastered Thousand Refinement, he would be able to forge fine products worth far more than ordinary metal components!

He could earn more money!

He could buy better things for his father, mother, and Na'er!

He could save up the money for his next hundred-year Soul Spirit faster!

He almost could not wait to answer loudly,

"I'm willing!"

Seeing the fire burning in his disciple's eyes, Mang Tian nodded faintly.

He pointed at the Heavy Silver on the workbench, his voice as clear as metal being struck.

"Heavy Silver has excellent ductility, and its Soul Power conductivity ranks among the best of the basic metals. It is one of the commonly used materials for the core arrays of Soul Tools."

"But its true value can only be fully unleashed after Thousand Refinement!"

"Purge away all impurities, and spirituality will arise on its own!"

His gaze turned to Bai Lin, his eyes becoming profound.

"Remember, Thousand Refinement is by no means simply hammering something a thousand times."

"It is 'purging impurities.' With your will, your Soul Power, and every hammer strike, you must sense the veins within the metal and remove the impurities that obstruct its ascension!"

"It is allowing metal..."

"To complete a leap in the level of life!"

Bai Lin's heart surged as he listened, and he could not help asking,

"Teacher, Thousand Refinement..."

"Does it have any techniques?"

"Techniques?" Mang Tian slowly shook his head, a meaningful curve lifting at the corner of his mouth.

"There are no fixed techniques."

"Thousand Refinement is also known as 'will forging'!"

"Every forger completes Thousand Refinement in a completely different way. It is your own unique 'path,' born from the resonance between your heart and the metal!"

"You need to... comprehend it yourself!"

There were no techniques, only comprehension through the heart!

Bai Lin took a deep breath, suppressing his turbulent emotions. His gaze became incomparably focused, like the most precise carving knife, settling upon that gray-white Heavy Silver.

He slowly paced around the workbench, his spiritual power highly concentrated, as though he wished to penetrate the metal's surface and glimpse the patterns and soul within.

Seeing Bai Lin instantly enter a state of near self-forgetting concentration, huge waves could not help rising in Mang Tian's cold, hard heart, and his gaze briefly turned distant.

The golden words gleaming with glory upon the Forging Masters Association's record stele seemed to appear before his eyes—

"The youngest Thousand Refinement record holder: Tian Hen. Age: eleven years, three months, and two days."

That was the legendary starting point of Saint Craftsman Tian Hen, a record admired by countless forgers and believed to be almost impossible to break!

Yet the child standing before him now was only seven years old!

If...

If he truly could complete Thousand Refinement here, today...