Zhu Lisi was encased in ice, yet her mind remained active. She stared wide-eyed, absorbing every word Huang Quan spoke, watching the feats achieved by a mere gesture from her.
The water in the wooden basin churned, the clothes within tumbling as if being vigorously washed. Huang Quan herself sat by the well, deep in meditation! Yes! Even after unleashing magic, she could still meditate?! A genius? No! A legendary super-genius? Perhaps only a bloodline mage could manage such a thing!
Magic, especially for apprentices at the primary academy level, offered no ability to cast spells independently. Even the simplest cantrip required several, sometimes dozens, of people standing within a pre-established magic circle. Yet, this Bi Luo, who called herself Huang Quan, accomplished it with such ease!
“Huang Quan? Didn't she call herself Bi Luo?” Zhu Lisi gazed blankly at the meditating Bi Luo, a wave of infinite dread washing over her heart. What kind of woman was this? Why did seeing her instill such fear? It was like facing a mythical savage beast!
Meditation... Meditation... Meditation... Failure.
Qian Jin stretched languidly, his face still etched with disappointment. He grabbed the helmet resembling a magician's hat and clamped it onto his head.
Darkness, then light—he entered the Endless World.
Having logged into the [Endless World] twice now, Qian Jin was entirely accustomed to this method of entry.
The small village remained as tranquil as ever. Without a second thought, Qian Jin set off toward the blacksmith shop, his mind already turning over possibilities: After entering twice, I should be able to forge Grade Five Refined Iron. I wonder if I now qualify as a Fifth-Grade Blacksmith?
‘Query: Would you like to view your attributes?’
The voice—the System Spirit that first addressed him upon entering the [Endless World]—suddenly resonated in Qian Jin’s ears once more.
“Attributes?” Qian Jin tilted his head back, scanning his surroundings casually. “Sure.”
A luminous panel instantly shimmered into existence before him. It was crammed with arcane figures, but the line that seized Qian Jin’s attention was under the Blacksmith heading: Blacksmith: Level 5, Experience Points: 329, Experience required for next level: 3.
Three experience points—what was that worth? As he pondered, Qian Jin commanded the display to show the detailed breakdown for Blacksmith.
Blacksmith Level 5, Forging Technique Level 5. Currently capable of forging Grade Five Refined Iron. Weapon Forging Skill: ‘None Yet.’ Available Weapon/Armor Schematics: ‘Zero.’
“Weapon/Armor Schematics? What are those?” Qian Jin continued down the status list.
Edge Sharpening: Level Zero: Learning conditions not met. Ore Prospecting: Level Zero: Learning conditions not met. Repair: Level Zero: Learning conditions not met. Honing: Level Zero: Learning conditions met.
“The Blacksmith profession includes all these skills?” Qian Jin walked on, a deep furrow in his brow. “I thought I was quite strong, but it turns out I’m actually pretty lacking.”
“Knowing you are weak means you still have a chance.”
By the forge of the blacksmith shop, old Blacksmith Blake leisurely puffed on his pipe, a look that might have been a smile creasing his wrinkled face.
“Go on, take a bath.”
Before Blake finished his sentence, Qian Jin had already dashed into the courtyard.
After the previous immersion, Qian Jin was utterly addicted to that sensation. Once his body entered the hot spring, the fatigue within seemed to be physically dragged out by the water. That strange concoction was truly miraculous! He absolutely had to learn its creation method in the future.
After a brief soak that washed away his weariness, Qian Jin returned to the courtyard, feeling refreshed and invigorated.
“Today…” Blake said seriously, holding his pipe, “I won’t be teaching you ironwork.”
“Not forging?” Qian Jin looked quizzically at Blake’s hammer, wondering what he was supposed to learn in a blacksmith’s shop if not forging.
“No, something else.” Blake picked up a dull, unsharpened knife lying nearby and casually tossed it onto the whetstone. “A basic skill for a Fifth-Grade Blacksmith is the ability to learn Honing.”
“Honing?” Qian Jin clicked his tongue twice, his eyes fixed on the various tools scattered on the floor. “I heard a First-Grade Blacksmith can already forge weapons, so perhaps…”
“A First-Grade Blacksmith forging weapons? Trying to run before you can walk? Idiot!” Blake tapped the sole of his boot with his pipe. “Watch! I’ll only do this once. Whether you are an idiot or merely mediocre will depend on you.”
The saber slid onto the whetstone and abruptly slipped. The expected sound of metal grating against stone never materialized; the blacksmith shop was utterly silent.
Qian Jin watched in astonishment as Blake held the blade with both hands, rubbing it back and forth across the jet-black, utterly ordinary whetstone, moving with the precision of the most practiced chef slicing vegetables into slivers.
Shards of metallic sheen danced in the air, resembling dozens of bright butterflies. The complete absence of that grating screech was a hundred times more impressive than the sound itself.
Qian Jin’s eyes were again locked in awe. He always knew Blake’s forging was art, but he never imagined his honing could be so completely different from any common blacksmith’s work!
A knife could be sharpened like this? This wasn't honing anymore! It was art, pure and absolute artistry!
The small, dark whetstone, through simple back-and-forth motions, somehow evoked the image of hundreds of silver butterflies taking flight.
Blake’s speed was both swift and steady. Every stroke applied perfectly uniform pressure, meticulously attending to every single edge of the saber. The repetitive drawing back and forth, though seemingly tedious, possessed an inherent, unique rhythm and pattern.
Watching the silent movement, Qian Jin was utterly transfixed...
“Player Qian Jin has mastered Beginner Honing Technique…”
“Player Qian Jin, Honing Technique has leveled up…”
“Player Qian Jin, Honing Technique has leveled up…”
“Player…”
“Player…”
“Player Qian Jin has mastered Beginner Edge Sharpening Technique…”
In less than an hour, Blake ceased his motion. The knife, which had been utterly common—the kind of steel blade one might buy on the street for a few silver coins—now radiated the cold gleam typical of a legendary treasure blade. Even glancing at it felt as if the sharp edge might slice through a person’s very being via the air itself.
A common saber honed to this extent? Qian Jin’s shock reached an apex that words could not convey. If this knife were displayed in Franklin’s shop, it would undoubtedly be treated as a centerpiece, a treasure no amount of gold could buy.
“Your turn.”
Blake casually tossed an axe over. Qian Jin, gripping the heavy tool, seriously considered asking if the old man couldn’t have just thrown him a hammer instead.
“Begin!”
At the command, Qian Jin fell into contemplation, his mind replaying every single motion Blake had made while honing. His arms and body slowly began to move.
Blake puffed on his pipe, and in his narrowed eyes, a flicker of light—which could only be described as satisfaction—danced.
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