Thousand Refinement

"See that?"

In the small grove, Wan Yunchao held his short saber out horizontally. His white Soul Ring glimmered, and a white Blade Arc half a foot long immediately shot from the tip.

The Blade Arc was not long, but it was sharp enough. In the evening breeze, it looked like a thin sliver of cold light.

"My first Soul Skill is called Blade Arc." Wan Yunchao tried to lift his chin a little higher, his expression brimming with irrepressible pride. "My dad paid extra to pick the Soul Spirit that suited my saber best. See? The Soul Spirit is a saber too. It attaches to my Martial Soul, so this Blade Arc..."

He deliberately paused before delivering his next words with heavy emphasis.

"Is not to be messed with."

Tang Wulin stood across from him without speaking, watching quietly.

All week, something seemed to have weighed on his heart, damp and heavy, making even breathing feel difficult. After listening to Wan Yunchao chatter incessantly all the way here, he actually began to feel a faint stir of impatience he had not felt in a long time.

"You talk too much," he said.

Wan Yunchao froze, then immediately glared.

"You're still mouthing off at a time like this?" Holding his saber horizontally, he advanced another half step. "I'm warning you first. Once we start fighting, my Blade Arc won't care who it cuts."

To show off, he swung his saber backhanded.

The Blade Arc swept out, slashing diagonally across a nearby sapling as thick as a bowl's rim. With a sharp crack, it cut more than halfway through the trunk, sending its leaves trembling wildly.

Tang Wulin's gaze darkened slightly.

"Plants have lives too." He looked at Wan Yunchao, his voice quiet. "Why use one to show off?"

Wan Yunchao choked on his words. He was about to retort when the boy opposite him raised his hand.

Black light flashed.

The Star-Sinking Hammer dropped into his palm.

Immediately afterward, a pure white Soul Ring rose from beneath Tang Wulin's feet, pulsing slowly. Moonlight filtered through the branches and leaves onto the short black hammer. Deep within its otherwise unremarkable body, faint dark-gold patterns emerged, like golden threads buried in black iron. They were still and quiet, yet inexplicably made the heart tighten.

Wan Yunchao had been wearing an expression that practically said, I've got this. Yet the moment the hammer appeared, his heart sank for no reason he could explain.

"Come on." He gritted his teeth, trying to bolster his own courage first.

Tang Wulin did not move immediately.

He merely lowered his center of gravity slightly, his gaze settling on Wan Yunchao's shoulder, wrist, blade, and feet.

This was not his first fight.

But it was the first time he had truly stood before someone as a Soul Master.

Wind passed over the treetops, rustling the leaves. The next moment, Wan Yunchao moved first.

He was still a child, after all, and there was little real technique to this supposed sparring match. Gritting his teeth, he charged with his saber raised. The Blade Arc flared, and he slashed straight at Tang Wulin.

The attack was not particularly fast. At least, it was not fast in Tang Wulin's eyes.

He did not retreat, merely shifting half a step diagonally forward.

It was a small movement, but just enough to let the Blade Arc skim past his shoulder, slicing off a few strands of hair lifted by the wind.

Wan Yunchao's slash missed. Before he could pull back, the short black hammer had already risen with the flow of Tang Wulin's movement.

There were no flourishes.

No dragging things out.

Just one simple hammer blow, pressing downward.

"First Soul Skill, Thousand-Weight Fall."

Tang Wulin's voice was not loud, but the moment those words fell, Wan Yunchao felt the modestly sized hammer before him suddenly become frighteningly heavy, as though something in the air was bearing down along with it.

Instinctively, he raised his saber to block.

Clang.

A sharp ring burst through the grove.

Wan Yunchao's wrist went numb, and his entire arm no longer felt like his own. That hammer blow forcibly dimmed his Blade Arc and sent him staggering backward, scattering fallen leaves beneath his feet.

Before he could regain his footing, Tang Wulin stepped forward.

The Star-Sinking Hammer fell again.

This time, the hammer did not strike the saber head-on. Instead, it pressed against one side of the blade's spine, using that tremendous falling force to drag the saber diagonally downward. Wan Yunchao was fat, but his footing was unsteady. His hand lost its purchase, and half his body was yanked off balance.

The next moment, Tang Wulin turned the hammer's handle sideways and drove it directly into his chest.

Thud!

Wan Yunchao landed hard on his backside, nearly losing his saber.

"Ow!"

He cried out in pain, his eyes wide and stunned.

"Y-you cheated!" Sitting on the ground, he still clutched his saber tightly, disbelief written all over his face. "Why is your hammer so heavy?"

Tang Wulin stood where he was, his breathing steady.

The Star-Sinking Hammer trembled lightly in his palm. The sensation of "falling" drawn from his Soul Ring had not entirely dispersed. It pressed through the web of his hand into the bones of his arm, lending his heart a little more steadiness as well.

He looked at Wan Yunchao sitting on the ground and spoke evenly.

"Didn't you say you wanted to see my Soul Skill?"

Wan Yunchao struggled for words until his face flushed red.

"Th-then come again! That didn't count. I wasn't ready!"

Tang Wulin said nothing, merely lifting his hammer slightly.

There was clearly nothing threatening about the gesture, yet Wan Yunchao instinctively scooted half a step backward.

Even he froze at his own reaction.

Then his embarrassment turned to greater indignation.

"Don't come any closer!" The moment he said it, he felt ashamed. He simply stiffened his neck instead. "...Can't I just admit defeat?"

The grove suddenly fell quiet.

Looking at Wan Yunchao's thoroughly disgruntled expression, Tang Wulin felt the gloom that had weighed on him all week unexpectedly disperse a little.

It was not because he had won so decisively.

Rather, after this fight, that persistent tightness in his chest had finally loosened somewhat.

"Get up," he said.

Wan Yunchao reluctantly climbed to his feet, remembering to brush the dirt from his trousers. As he brushed, he muttered, "That doesn't make sense... I have a Soul Skill now. How can I still lose to you..."

Tang Wulin withdrew his hammer into his body and turned to leave.

"Because you're too fat," he said without looking back.

"That's prejudice!" Wan Yunchao immediately bristled and chased after him, dragging his saber. "I'm sturdy, not fat!"

Tang Wulin gave him a sidelong glance.

"Teacher Lin said ages ago that your Martial Soul is better suited to fast, close-range fighting. Your saber is pretty fast, but you're slow."

Wan Yunchao choked, then looked even more aggrieved.

"What about your hammer? Aren't you fighting up close too? Why couldn't I even block it?"

Tang Wulin fell silent for a moment.

In truth, he had been pondering that question himself.

Once his Soul Skill had taken shape, he could clearly feel that the Star-Sinking Hammer did more than simply "become heavier." The instant it fell, even the small pocket of air beneath it seemed to sink. Wan Yunchao had failed to block it not merely because he was weaker, but because he had no idea how to receive that kind of "fall."

At that thought, Tang Wulin gave only a calm reply:

"Because it's heavier than you think."

After hearing that, Wan Yunchao actually went quiet for a couple of breaths.

A little later, he said softly:

"Tang Wulin."

"Hm?"

"Now you... look a little like a real Soul Master."

The words came out awkwardly, sounding both complimentary and unwilling to concede.

Tang Wulin's steps paused briefly, but he did not look back. He merely gave a soft "Mm."

By the time he had seen Wan Yunchao off, dusk had settled.

Tang Wulin wasted no time and headed straight for the Mang Tian Workshop.

As he reached the entrance, he was still thinking that he was a little late today and his teacher would probably frown again. But after pushing the door open, he discovered that the front hall was quiet, and Long Ge was absent too. Farther inside, the door to his own forging room stood half open, a little warm yellow light spilling from within.

Tang Wulin gently pushed the door open.

Mang Tian stood before the forging bench.

"Teacher." Tang Wulin immediately composed himself and greeted him respectfully.

Mang Tian turned, his gaze lingering on Tang Wulin's face.

"You've graduated?"

"Yes." Tang Wulin nodded. "I just got my recommendation letter today."

"An Intermediate Academy. You'll be going to Eastsea City?" Mang Tian asked.

"Yes." After answering, Tang Wulin suddenly felt his heart sink slightly. Then he voiced what he had been wanting to say. "Teacher, I was just planning to tell you about that. Once I go to Eastsea City, I... might not be able to keep learning forging from you."

After he spoke, the forging room fell silent for a moment.

Mang Tian glanced at him, his expression unchanged, and merely said calmly:

"Who told you that you couldn't keep learning?"

Tang Wulin froze.

Mang Tian turned and set the plans in his hand on the table.

"I just like how quiet it is here. That doesn't mean I'm confined to Aolai City," he said. "Most of our orders come from Eastsea City anyway. The workshop there is much larger than this one, and better equipped. If you go to school in Eastsea City, you can keep practicing there."

Tang Wulin's eyes lit up at once.

"Teacher, you mean..."

"I have a place there." Mang Tian's tone was even, as though he were discussing something utterly ordinary. "I'll set aside a forging room for you. I'll go over to guide you every so often."

Warmth surged through Tang Wulin's chest, and "Teacher, you're so good to me" nearly burst out again. But remembering how his last hug had almost cost him two days' wages, he forced himself to hold back. The light in his eyes, however, simply would not dim.

"Thank you, Teacher," he said earnestly.

Mang Tian acted as though he had not heard the thanks and merely lifted his chin.

"Don't celebrate too soon," he said. "Eastsea City is a true metropolis. A place like Aolai City can't compare. There are plenty of talented people there, even more Forging masters, and their eyes are much sharper. If all you can make are these little parts, you won't even be qualified to guard someone's door there."

Tang Wulin's heart tightened, and he immediately stood a little straighter.

"Teacher, are you going to test me?"

Looking at him, Mang Tian finally nodded.

"Thousand Refinement."

The words landed like two hammer strikes, neither heavy, but both supremely steady.

Tang Wulin froze for a moment, then his eyes instantly brightened.

"Teacher, you're finally willing to teach me Thousand Refinement?"

Mang Tian gave him an impassive glance.

"Not teach you," he said. "See whether you're qualified to learn it yet."

"You'll only pass if you complete a genuine Thousand Refinement. If you can't, stay here and obediently keep honing your foundations."

Anyone else hearing the words "Thousand Refinement" would most likely have thought first of its difficulty.

But not Tang Wulin.

Over these three years, he had worked his way up step by step from the clumsiest practice of hammering iron blocks. He had long since lost count of how many times he had watched his teacher and Long Ge perform Thousand Refinement. To him, it was not a nuisance, but a threshold he had always wanted to reach, yet remained just short of crossing.

"Teacher, are we starting now?" he asked almost without thinking.

Mang Tian shook his head.

"No hurry," he said. "You've ruined quite a few parts these last few days. It's not just because you've been distracted. There's another reason: you've lost control of your strength."

Tang Wulin blinked.

Those words truly struck the mark.

These past few days in the workshop, aside from being distracted by what had happened with Na'er, he had vaguely sensed that something was wrong. Whenever he brought his hammer down, a few blows would suddenly land harder than expected, as though his strength had surged outward on its own. Several times, he had nearly smashed straight through when he should have pulled back.

He simply had not found the time to think it through.

Now that his teacher had mentioned it, that sensation suddenly became clear.

Ever since merging with his Soul Spirit and truly entering the ranks of Soul Masters, his body felt as though it had quietly been tightened all over again. His strength had not suddenly soared to an outrageous degree. Rather, every bit of force he exerted had become fuller, heavier, and more prone to overshooting.

"Come." Mang Tian turned and walked out. "We'll test your strength first."

At the very back of the workshop was a small room used specifically to test and calibrate Forging measurements.

Several rarely used instruments stood inside. The most conspicuous among them was the Strength Tester.

It had a square base, with a metal column in the center designed to withstand heavy blows and a tall graduated tube attached behind it. During a test, one simply struck the front with a standard forging hammer. The column of liquid in the rear tube would shoot upward according to the force, ultimately yielding a relatively precise value.

The device looked simple, but in fact required extremely high precision. Many professional Forging masters regularly came to calibrate their strength and control.

Tang Wulin was certainly familiar with it.

Ever since coming here at six years old, he had been tested almost every year.

The first year, one hundred and forty kilograms.

The second year, two hundred kilograms.

After that, the numbers had continued to rise.

But all of that had been before he merged with his Soul Spirit.

Mang Tian took a standard testing hammer from a nearby rack and handed it to him.

This hammer was neither a Martial Soul nor one of the practice hammers casually used around the workshop. It was a specially calibrated testing hammer weighing fifty kilograms, with standardized dimensions and weight distribution intended to keep variables to a minimum.

"Left hand first," Mang Tian said.

Tang Wulin reached out and took it.

The moment the hammer entered his hand, he froze.

Light.

It was not that the hammer truly lacked weight. Rather, compared with his current Star-Sinking Hammer, this fifty-kilogram testing hammer felt strangely light, like holding a substantial piece of iron that lacked the sensation of "falling."

He looked down at the hammer in his hand, then at the metal column ahead. For some reason, he slowly drew a breath into his chest as well.