The higher a warrior’s combat level ascended, the vastly greater the amount of Doujin required for Qianjin. Even amidst the ceaseless battles within this boundless world, despite the rapid surge in Doujin growth, the pace of breakthroughs in combat level had noticeably slowed.

Clenching his Qianjin around his Zhanmadao (horse-slashing saber), Qian Jin walked the path back, quickly encountering something utterly incomprehensible: the bandit stronghold they had just slaughtered clean had somehow resurrected entirely?

They had fought their way in; now, on the return journey… Qian Jin realized he had to fight his way back through again.

Stepping into the stockade, he dropped the Bainian Bing Tie (Hundred-Year Cold Iron) from his back, too weary for pleasantries. If fighting was required, then let there be battle! His ninth-level warrior Doujin swirled within his Doubing (combat weapon), and the gleaming Zhanmadao flashed up and down through the camp.

Two days passed once more. Qian Jin, caked in blood and grime, stood outside the gates of the peaceful village, the Zhanmadao in hand, a flicker of excitement stirring in his chest.

He had expected the task to be quick and easy, yet the errand had consumed five days, during which he had nearly been slain countless times by the mob of bandits or bitten to death by the wolf packs.

In five days, Qian Jin felt he had learned far more than he had during an entire year at the Oakland Academy of Magic and Warriors. This increase wasn't in his warrior rank; rather, it was a comprehensive elevation of his warrior temperament and skills.

Even setting aside his ninth-level warrior status, Qian Jin was confident he was the most competent warrior student in the academy.

Pushing open the village’s rudimentary gate, Qian Jin hurried through the street, rushing nonstop toward the blacksmith shop that looked quite dilapidated from the outside.

Blake, who had been dozing in the corner by the wall, showed a faint trace of surprise in his eyes upon seeing Qian Jin’s arrival. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, a sleepy look momentarily clearing from his face. He dusted the grime from his kùzi (trousers) and stood up, saying, “You’re back earlier than I calculated. Where is the Bainian Bing Tie?”

Qian Jin unclasped the Bainian Bing Tie from his back. “Uncle, your map drawing skills are truly something. I was nearly killed a hundred times because of your map.”

Blake squatted down to examine the Bainian Bing Tie, not even lifting his eyes as he replied, “Didn’t you come back alive? If you had died, it would have meant you weren’t qualified to be a blacksmith. Dying would have been deserved.”

What? Deserved to die? Wasn't this supposed to be blacksmith training? Why did it sound like warrior instruction? Qian Jin raised an eyebrow, about to speak, when he saw the cigarette holder in Blake’s hand point toward the thatched hut that looked ready to collapse at any moment. “The first bookshelf inside the door, the topmost one on the left. Read the first book, then come find me.”

“What is it? Making such a mystery out of this?” Qian Jin murmured to himself as he stepped into the hut, instantly stunned by what he saw.

Books! The room was filled with bookshelves everywhere! And those shelves were laden with books!

Such a volume of books contained within a seemingly ready-to-collapse thatched hovel made Qian Jin wonder if he had accidentally stumbled into a study within the Qian family’s ancestral library.

Qian Jin reached for the first bookshelf, the topmost book on the left: a thin booklet, appearing to be only a few dozen pages thick.

Brushing away the thick, acrid dust, the lettering on the cover finally revealed itself: Zhanmadao Forging Illustrated Guide.

“Oh?” Qian Jin quickly flipped open the pamphlet. The first page displayed the profile of the Jidu Zhanmadao; the second detailed the relationship between weapon length and its inherent strength.

A blade that was too long easily rendered the Zhanmadao brittle. A normally sized Zhanmadao, three chi long and one chi wide, would inherently possess greater structural integrity than one five chi long and one chi wide.

To compensate for excessive blade length, one would necessarily have to thicken the blade body to a certain degree, or select superior materials, to ensure the saber could withstand greater forces during combat.

After several pages explaining the strength of combat weapons, the schematics for forging the Zhanmadao followed. Nearly every point indicated the necessary force to be applied during forging and the precise weight of the hammer—which numbered—that would be most suitable.

Qian Jin studied the book’s records intently. He realized that if he hadn't previously learned that very special hammer strike, which had laid an incredibly deep foundation, it would have taken him at least half a year, if not a full year, to comprehend and master the forging techniques described within. It certainly wouldn't have taken him just three hours to basically grasp the method for forging a Zhanmadao as he had now.

Qian Jin then pulled another book from the shelf, Basic Forging Analysis (1). This one dealt more with overarching theory, such as how the forging method differed for every single weapon; it wasn't enough merely to shape an object and hone a sharp edge to call it a weapon.

At best, that could only be called a mere tool, not a true weapon!

Qian Jin looked at the large exclamation mark and suddenly realized he could actually sense the emotion Blake felt when he had written it.

Continuing to flip pages, the subsequent descriptions opened Qian Jin’s eyes wider still. Blake had meticulously detailed the requirements for a smith crafting a weapon, covering not only the combinations of different charcoals but also the appropriate sizes for bellows, the proper combinations of various metals, and even detailed classifications for matching weather and terrain conditions.

Comparing this to the blacksmith shop run by Franlin, Qian Jin suddenly felt that, in Blake’s estimation, Franlin didn't even qualify as a blacksmith’s apprentice; it seemed Franlin had done almost everything wrong.

Flipping through continuously, Qian Jin was suddenly drawn to several large characters: The Forging of Divine Artifacts!

Divine Artifacts! Rumor held that whether Doubing or Magical Constructs, when they reached the highest realm, they were called Divine Artifacts. These were not the weapons supposedly used by the ethereal deities recorded in legends.

‘A true Divine Craftsman can forge invincible Divine Artifacts from common iron!’

These strong, vigorous characters struck at Qian Jin’s spirit like so many battle sabers. This sentence wasn't new; he had seen it many times before in the Qian family texts. It was rumored to be an adage in the world of smithing, and yet Blake apparently agreed with it completely.

‘Nonsense!’ Two extremely crude characters filled the entirety of the second page. From these massive characters, Qian Jin could sense Blake's anger regarding the preceding statement.

‘Common iron is common iron. There is only one way to forge a Divine Artifact: only by using the highest quality metals can a Divine Artifact be forged!’

‘Therefore, anyone aspiring to become a Divine Craftsman must strive to obtain superior metals upon sight! Otherwise, regretting it only after you possess the foundation for forging Divine Artifacts but lack the necessary metal—that is the ultimate folly.’

“Haven’t you finished yet?”

Blake’s impatient roar echoed from the courtyard. Qian Jin hastily put down Basic Forging Analysis (1) and hurried out of the hut. :Three chapters again today, and three chapters tomorrow too. Please click for membership points and recommendation tickets~~~ Although we’ve dropped off the new book charts, there are still the weekly member points charts and weekly recommendation charts. It’s likely the final week to push hard, so I humbly request everyone’s powerful support. Gao Lou expresses gratitude. F

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