Mang Tian's Call

In the Mang Tian Forging workshop in Aolai City, the lingering warmth of metal still hung in the air.

A resonant middle-aged man's voice slowly broke the silence. "You've graduated?"

Tang Wulin stood still and answered calmly, "Yes, I've graduated."

Mang Tian looked up at him, tapping his fingertips against the table as he continued, "Going to the Intermediate Soul Master Academy in Eastsea City?"

"That's right. I was just about to tell you, Uncle. I'll be living in Eastsea City while I attend school, so I'm afraid I won't be able to come here to study forging with you anymore." A trace of reluctance lingered in Tang Wulin's voice.

Mang Tian's expression did not ripple in the slightest. He lifted the teacup on the table and took a sip, then reached out and lightly tapped Tang Wulin's forehead.

"I only stay in Aolai City because I prefer the peace and quiet here. Most of the commissions this workshop takes already come from Eastsea City."

He set down his cup and made a quiet promise. "I have another workshop in Eastsea City. I'll reserve a forging station there just for you. Whenever you return during winter or summer break, I'll head over and personally guide your forging. I won't let your training fall behind."

The scent of metal filled the workshop. Mang Tian set down his teacup, looked at the boy before him, and said slowly, "Now is as good a time as any to teach you something new—Thousand Refinement."

Tang Wulin's eyes lit up at once, brimming with excitement and delight.

He had worked at the forge with Mang Tian for three full years, repeating the same tedious hammering and tempering day after day. Mang Tian had only ever made him strengthen his foundations, never teaching him any truly advanced forging techniques. This was the first time his teacher had offered to teach him a genuine forging art.

It was not that Mang Tian hoarded his knowledge and refused to teach him. Rather, impatience was forging's greatest taboo. He had deliberately used three years of tedious foundational hammering to temper Tang Wulin's character, wearing away the impatience in the boy's bones and allowing his mind to settle completely. Only with a sufficiently steady disposition could he travel far along the path of forging. And now, the time was ripe.

Mang Tian led Tang Wulin over to the Strength Tester and lifted his chin, signaling for him to test his strength.

Tang Wulin took a deep breath. Instead of picking up the forging hammer beside him, he gathered all his soul power and physical strength into his right fist and slammed it straight into the tester.

[Beep! Strength reading: 700 kilograms.]

The cold, mechanical electronic announcement rang through the room. Mang Tian's expression froze slightly, and he stood stunned.

He remembered perfectly well that Tang Wulin's strength test last year had only registered a little over three hundred kilograms. In just one year, his strength had soared by more than four hundred kilograms, practically doubling outright!

"Test your left arm too," Mang Tian instructed in a low voice, suppressing his shock.

Tang Wulin did as he was told, striking the tester with his left fist at full force.

[Beep! Strength reading: 675 kilograms.]

His two arms' combined strength was already approaching the thousand-jin threshold.

Towering waves surged through Mang Tian's heart, leaving him inwardly shaken. Good heavens, how could a One-Ring Soul Master with a trash martial soul like blue silver grass possess such terrifying physical strength? Even a power attack system Soul Master with a beast martial soul couldn't have such brute force at his age. Could this child be a Ferocious Beast in human form?

He suppressed the jumble of suspicions in his mind and pointed toward the forging table Tang Wulin had used for the past three years.

"Go. Start forging."

Confusion crossed Tang Wulin's face, and he instinctively asked, "Teacher, shouldn't you demonstrate the Thousand Refinement method first, then let me practice?"

Mang Tian's expression remained composed, his voice steady and solemn. "Thousand Refinement has no fixed moves, nor any techniques you can simply copy. There is only one thing I can teach you."

"Treat the metal before you as a living being, and communicate with it through your heart. When you forge, unite your intent with your hammer strikes. Forge iron with your heart, and let your intent follow. That is the true essence of Thousand Refinement."

There were no elaborate formulas, no complicated methods—only the simplest core of forging, and the one that tested the heart most deeply.

Understanding dawned on Tang Wulin. He nodded firmly and picked up the Thousand-Refined Peerless Hammer Mang Tian had given him for his exclusive use. He clamped the mud metal on the workbench and placed it in the high-temperature furnace beside him.

Once the entire piece of metal glowed red and had reached the ideal forging temperature, Tang Wulin placed the scorching metal securely on the forging table.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

The crisp, rhythmic sounds of hammering rang throughout the workshop.

Tang Wulin exerted both arms together, gripping the Peerless Hammer tightly. Its rises and falls maintained a flawless rhythm, every strike landing precisely on the metal billet. He deliberately restrained his strength, using only thirty percent throughout. Neither hurried nor impatient, he immersed himself completely in the hammering, trying to follow Mang Tian's instructions and sense the metal's pulse with his heart.

Time slipped by, second after second. Half an hour, an hour, then two hours passed quietly.

The unceasing hammer blows drained much of Tang Wulin's stamina. His right arm had long since become sore and numb. Beads of sweat rolled incessantly down his forehead, dripped from his chin, and soaked the surface of the forging table before him. Every rise and fall of his arms brought a distinct ache. Thousand Refinement was far more demanding than he had imagined.

Yet despite his body's exhaustion, Tang Wulin's eyes did not lose focus in the slightest. Instead, they grew clearer and brighter. His mind remained firmly connected to the Heavy Silver beneath him, never breaking away for an instant.

He took a deep breath and stopped deliberately conserving his stamina, slowly raising his strength to sixty or seventy percent.

The hammers crashed down, each blow exceeding four hundred jin of force. The heavy Peerless Hammer danced rapidly in his hands, moving so fast that layers of afterimages trailed behind it. Dense, urgent hammer blows rang out without pause, making the entire workshop tremble slightly.

Under countless precise hammer blows, the Heavy Silver on the forging table visibly changed. Impurities were continually expelled from within, and its structure grew ever denser and harder. Its volume first shrank by half, then continued contracting, dropping from forty-five percent of its original size all the way to thirty-five percent.

Once its volume could no longer shrink even slightly, the Heavy Silver's density had reached its saturation threshold. Forcing further compression would only shatter the entire piece of metal.

Tang Wulin did not stop. He maintained his steady hammering rhythm. Now, rather than seeking to reduce its volume, he focused on refining the metal's grain, guiding the force of his hammers with his intent. Little by little, he polished the patterns within the Heavy Silver, making its texture more perfect and fluid.

Another full half hour passed.

Tang Wulin slowly withdrew his hammers, his arms dropping limply to his sides.

The red-hot Heavy Silver on the forging table rapidly cooled. Its scorching red glow faded in an instant, and a brilliant yet gentle, restrained silver light flowed across its surface. The once plain, unremarkable metal was now covered in layers of fine, undulating patterns, like waves rolling across the sea, their shimmering ripples seeming wholly natural.

This was the hallmark unique to Thousand-Refined metal—Thousand-Refinement Wave Patterns.

"I... I've finished Thousand-Refined Heavy Silver!"

Looking at the finished piece he had forged with his own hands, Tang Wulin felt uncontrollable joy surge through his heart, and his long-strained mind abruptly relaxed. Two and a half hours of uninterrupted, intense hammering had completely emptied his reserves. Exhaustion swept through his body in an instant. His head tilted, and he slumped against the edge of the forging table, falling into a deep, utterly unguarded sleep.

Mang Tian, who had quietly watched the entire process from the side, could only chuckle helplessly.

There was no denying that young people had a straightforward approach to sleep. One moment they were forging with absolute concentration, brimming with vigor; the next, their strength was spent, and they could collapse into sound sleep without a single care.

Mang Tian walked slowly forward, his gaze settling on the piece of Thousand-Refined Heavy Silver with its perfect patterns and outstanding quality. His eyes filled with undisguised shock and gratification.

On his first attempt at Thousand Refinement, without anyone guiding his hands, the boy had succeeded outright with nothing more than a single hint to forge metal with his heart. Such forging talent was truly staggering.

As he looked at the boy sleeping peacefully beside the forging table, Mang Tian's expression softened. He bent down and gently lifted Tang Wulin into his arms. The boy's frame was still slender, and despite possessing physical strength far beyond ordinary people, he now slept without the slightest guard.

Mang Tian settled him carefully onto the small bed at the back of the workshop where he usually rested, then thoughtfully drew the thin blanket over him so that he could lie comfortably and sleep in peace.

Once he had finished, he turned and walked to the window. Gazing at the clear sky outside, he lightly rubbed his fingertips against his palm and sank into a long silence of thought.

In just one year, his strength had surged to nearly twice what it had been. A nine-year-old One-Ring Soul Master with the trash martial soul blue silver grass, yet he possessed terrifying physical might comparable to a Soul Elder with a beast martial soul. He had never encountered Thousand Refinement before, yet with only a single hint to forge metal with his heart, he had produced perfectly Thousand-Refined Heavy Silver with exceptional patterns on his very first attempt.

Every single one of these things defied common sense.

This child harbored far, far too many secrets. He had long since exceeded the bounds of an ordinary Soul Master or blacksmith.

After a long while, Mang Tian sighed helplessly. Hesitating no longer, he took out a small black Soul Communication Device. His fingertip slid across the screen as he opened his contacts and selected an especially inconspicuous name he rarely contacted—Mu Chen.

He pressed the call button, and crisp dialing tones sounded one after another: beep, beep, beep...

A moment later, the call connected. A clear, warm middle-aged man's voice came from the other end, carrying a hint of surprise and mild curiosity. "Well, this is a rare honor. Mang Tian, it's actually you. What suddenly made you think to call me?"

Mang Tian looked at Tang Wulin sleeping peacefully on the bed. The usual warmth he showed the boy left his voice, replaced by a measure of gravity as he spoke in a low tone:

"This is Mang Tian. I have a gifted young blacksmith here..."