Chapter 122: Seeking but a Single Thread of Fate from Heaven and Earth; Today I Draw My Sword to Forge, Sword, Come Forth!

Forging a sword is by no means an easy task. From the moment they enter the Sword Pool Palace, disciples are required to hammer iron blanks without interruption for at least three years.

However, that is merely stepping onto the threshold of swordsmithing. The control of the hammer’s posture, the mastery of the furnace’s flame temperature, the precision of the striking point—all of these require habit to cultivate, experience to accumulate, and a great deal of time to master.

Therefore, the old master swordsmith had originally intended for An Le to spend a month learning the basics of forging, mastering fundamental techniques, and then, with his own guidance in the smelting process, allow An Le to perform the crucial hammering to cultivate a bond with the sword. Finally, he would forge and refine a sword of his own from scratch.

Yet, at this moment, as An Le picked up the thousand-pound hammer and struck the iron blank in the furnace, sparks flew, revealing a style of striking that was exceptionally proficient!

"Impossible!"

Beside him, Wan Jieliu, also holding a thousand-pound hammer, stared with a look of astonishment. The technique of using the waist to generate force and the arc traced by the thousand-pound hammer were identical to the techniques taught by the Sword Pool Palace, as if he were a long-time disciple who had been forging for years!

But Wan Jieliu knew that in these three days, he had never once let An Le attempt to forge a sword. The furnace was connected to the Earth Immortal Fire beneath the Sword Pool Palace, which posed significant danger to anyone unfamiliar with it; even a cultivator at the Double-Fifth Realm could not guarantee safety. Furthermore, these three days were meant for An Le to rest and stabilize his newly broken-through cultivation. How could anyone have taught him to forge?

The old master swordsmith, having forgotten his tea, slowly stood up. His dark pupils reflected the Yuan Spirit refined iron blank, which had already changed shape under the strike. A look of surprise and delight flickered in his eyes.

Swordsmithing is independent of cultivation level, as the heaviest hammers weigh only three thousand pounds—a weight a Fifth Realm cultivator can lift by channeling the strength of their blood and qi. However, the techniques for wielding the hammer require countless attempts and explorations; only after mastering the patterns can one truly unleash the power. This was why the old master had planned for Wan Jieliu to teach An Le, waiting until An Le could deform the iron blank before proceeding to the next step.

His plan had allowed An Le three days to reach that stage.

Yet, on his very first strike, An Le had deformed the refined iron. He had brought the master a surprise. The way he released his mind and invoked his aura was near perfect; while there were minor flaws in his control, it was already quite impressive.

Most importantly, there was the emotion An Le revealed as he struck—the absolute confidence that every blow would inevitably result in a sword. It surged toward the old master like a tidal wave. As the world’s greatest swordsmith, he had trained countless disciples, but he had never seen a novice display such intense confidence the first time they held a hammer.

The old master raised his hand, stopping Wan Jieliu from speaking. The message was clear: let An Le continue.

After the first strike, An Le’s focus was entirely converged upon the hammer, guiding his mind to deliver the second. Although he had glimpsed the emotions and joy of the Sword Pool Palace disciples upon their success and had replicated much of their experience, this remained his first time actually striking. Yet, he infused that confidence into the very first blow.

After the first strike, An Le felt a unique emotion spreading through his body, every inch of his flesh cheering in excitement. His eyes shone bright. He caught the hammer as it rebounded, using the momentum to swing it again. Amidst the flying sparks, it felt like a dream.

Continue!

The second strike!

In this strike, An Le’s aura was even more formidable. The first might have been restrained, but the confidence in the second was even stronger, pressing down until the air itself seemed to howl!

*Clang!*

It was as if thunder had exploded beneath the hammer, with electric arcs dancing and weaving between the hammer and the blank!

The flames in the furnace surged like ripples, crashing against the walls before gathering back at the center, the fire flaring violently. The Sword Furnace in An Le’s mind hovered above, erupting with countless wisps of sword qi that wove into the strike, heightening his connection to the blank and grasping every change within it.

Within his inner core, profound intent arose. The image of a savage bear embracing a mountain manifested, unleashing immense power. His God-Piercing Sword Body trembled, and every wisp of sword qi within his physique was stimulated, causing an extraordinary transformation in the iron blank.

Earth Immortal Fire surged from the furnace, a mixture of azure and crimson, roaring more fiercely than ever. The flames evaporated the air, and the essence of the iron, struck by the hammer, permeated the air in a shimmering display.

"Good!"

The old master’s eyes glowed with unprecedented joy. He set down his porcelain tea jar, strode to the furnace, and began to assist An Le, turning the Yuan Spirit iron blank. An Le’s movements remained flawless, showing no panic at the master's intervention.

Hammer! Keep hammering!

Each blow caused the refined iron to shift its form! Originally, the old master had intended to let An Le familiarize himself with the process, but seeing such proficient forging skills—even the way An Le channeled his essence, spirit, and qi into a state rarely achieved by ordinary smiths—Wang Yansheng was ecstatic!

So much talent! This child, who could ring the sword bell thirty-six times, possessed an affinity for the sword that was truly natural, as if divinely assisted!

This state of forging was rare—one in ten thousand. It stirred the old master’s own heart, igniting his desire to forge. He changed his plan: instead of leading, he would play the supporting role, letting An Le take the lead to forge a sword that belonged uniquely to him. Even if it only became a Third-Grade sword, a blade personally forged by An Le would be worth more than a Second-Grade one! Moreover, Wang Yansheng was confident that with this aura, and his own assistance, the result would not stop at Third-Grade!

*Clang! Clang-clang!*

The sound grew louder and more piercing, like thunder exploding, spreading instantly from the smithy to the entire Sword Pool Palace. Many disciples and swordsmiths who were learning the craft stopped what they were doing, straining their ears to listen to the roaring, overlapping waves of sound.

"Who is forging? Is it Master Wang?"

"No, that doesn't sound like Master Wang’s style. If I recall correctly, Master Wang is teaching Young Master An, who rang the bell thirty-six times, how to forge today. Could it be..."

"Interesting. Let's go take a look. This Young Master An... he’s never forged before, has he? To have such sound on his first time?"

The swordsmiths who emerged from their workshops looked at one another and discussed. Moments later, filled with interest, they abandoned their own work and headed toward Master Wang’s smithy in the depths of the palace.

Before the Sword Pool Lake, under the massive sword bell, the disciples and the geniuses of the Dali Star Chart were sitting in meditation, contemplating the lingering echoes of the thirty-six rings. They, too, were filled with astonishment.

Lu Shisan was the most bewildered. He had become close with An Le over the past three days, but he never expected An Le to be capable of this on his first attempt. During these days, An Le had asked him many questions about forging, and from those questions, it was clear he was a complete novice. Yet, listening to the sound of the hammer now, he felt his hair stand on end. Unable to focus on the bell's echoes, he stood up, slung his sword over his back, and ran toward Master Wang’s smithy.

Lu Ziwei did not understand forging, but she was very interested in An Le. She rose gracefully and followed.

Master Wang’s smithy was usually quiet, as the disciples dared not approach due to his formidable presence. But today, it was crowded with disciples and many shirtless swordsmiths, all wearing expressions of curiosity. Through the doorway, they could see the fire raging within, a youth in green, drenched in sweat, wielding a thousand-pound hammer. He integrated his aura, sword qi, and spirit, striking the iron blank continuously and sending up clusters of roaring Earth Immortal Fire!

The crimson fire caused the temperature of the entire smithy to soar, and the swirling heat seemed to manifest as roaring fire dragons!

"Incredible! This aura, this spirit! Is this truly his first time forging?!"

"Ringing the bell thirty-six times, a clear sword heart, and now the passion infused into this forging... I don't know why, but I seem to see the joy and confidence I felt when I first succeeded in forging."

"Every strike is filled with the smith's emotion. Forging... all these years, we have become numb, but watching this today, I feel as if I have rediscovered the original intent. Keeping that original heart is the key to forging a true sword!"

The swordsmiths were moved, some even feeling a strange sense of inspiration. They were experts, and even setting aside An Le’s monstrously skillful technique, the raw emotion he displayed was infectious. While they marveled, they were also terrified. Does such a monster really exist in this world? To be able to do this on a first attempt? Perhaps some people are simply born for the sword.

The Sword Graveyard wailed for him, and swords were born of him!

Massive sword qi intertwined within the smithy, and An Le’s mind was completely submerged. He no longer knew how many times he had swung the hammer, but his aura showed no signs of fatigue—instead, it grew stronger and more intense. The God-Piercing Sword Body vibrated, driving the vast sword qi. In his mind, the sword furnace stood tall, and behind his primordial spirit, rays of light emerged, stimulating a waterfall of sword qi to aid in the transformation of the burning iron blank.

The blank had been beaten into a slender, vaguely sword-like shape. Every time the old master turned it, he positioned it perfectly for An Le’s strike. An Le’s state improved, and the force of his blows stacked upon each other.

Master Wang Yansheng’s face showed excitement mixed with gravity. He held a small hammer, watching An Le’s state at every moment. If An Le’s aura began to wane, he would strike with his small hammer to bolster it. If they could complete the sword in one go, it would be exceptionally meaningful; the resulting sword would possess the greatest affinity and be perfectly matched to the wielder.

Wang Yansheng’s eyes reflected the fire, his silver hair dancing in the turbulent heat and sword qi. His heart pounded—he was filled with anticipation!

If the initial strikes had been based on the memories An Le had observed, as the number of blows increased, he had gradually cast off the influence of those past visions. The twisting of his waist to generate force, the arc of the swing, and the power added to each strike were now being controlled by his own body, forming a kind of instinct.

That was the change brought by the God-Piercing Sword Body!

An Le did not resist this change; he followed it. His blood and qi surged and boiled, transforming into force that refined his body with every thunderous strike. The counter-force traveled up his arms, tempering his tendons and bones. Within his inner core, the innate spiritual energy was tempered by this force, becoming increasingly resilient. The intent of the savage bear roared as if holding up a mountain, and An Le’s newly stabilized forging cultivation seemed to be greatly stimulated in this short time!

Forging is like cultivation: every breath is a form of breathing, every strike is a tempering of the self!

An Le’s green robes fluttered, as if even the corners of his sleeves were imbued with sharp sword qi.

At this moment, sword qi whistled and surged within the smithy. The finished swords hanging on the walls, and even the failed ones discarded on the ground, trembled lightly, as if sword qi were weaving out from them!

Outside the smithy, the crowd felt the aura growing ever larger. The thundering sounds of the hammer seemed to stack into a giant wave, crashing down continuously. The disciples and swordsmiths began to look serious. They realized that this youth, who had touched a hammer for the first time, might be about to forge a sword of terrifying quality!

Time passed, but no one felt it. The crowd remained immersed in the thunderous rhythm. Some were even silently counting; thousands of strikes had already passed!

The geniuses of the Dali Star Chart did not understand forging and left after a while. Only Lu Ziwei remained. She did not understand the craft either, but she understood the sword, and she had her own interpretation of it. The azure Star Sword in her arms trembled gently with every explosive sound.

Time trickled away. The sun rose and set; stars appeared and vanished. Yet, the hammering in the Sword Pool Palace never ceased, and the Earth Immortal Fire continued to roar, the flames growing so intense that the temperature of the entire palace seemed to have risen significantly!

The hammering lasted for five days!

All the disciples of the Sword Pool Palace found it unbelievable, for in these five days and nights, the sound of the thousand-pound hammer striking the anvil had never once faltered or weakened! The momentum only continued to climb, and climb!

"Is... is this going to be a Second-Grade sword?!"

"Can that youth even handle such an aura?!" a swordsmith asked in shock.

With a Double-Fifth Realm cultivation, on his first attempt at forging, aiming for a Second-Grade sword? What kind of monster is this? Is he even human?!

For five days, people came and went outside the smithy. Everyone was eagerly awaiting the birth of the sword.

...

Sword light tore across the sky over Jingguan City, and Su Muzhe and Zhao Huangting returned to the Sword Pool Palace on their swords. As soon as they stepped through the gates, they felt a wave of heat wash over them. Zhao Huangting’s simple robes fluttered, and a look of surprise appeared in his eyes.

"What is this momentum? Has Master Wang already started forging for An Le? But this is too much, isn't it?"

The heat in the air was from the Earth Immortal Fire, but the fire had been controlled by the Sword Pool Lake for thousands of years; it was rare for such a massive heatwave to sweep through. Su Muzhe was even more confused: "Could it be that Master Wang isn't forging for An Le, but rather forging his own First-Grade Ultimate Sword, which he has been refining for decades?"

"A First-Grade Ultimate Sword refined for decades?" Zhao Huangting’s expression flickered.

As the world’s premier place for forging, the Sword Pool Lake had produced many great masters over the millennia, yet in all that time, only six First-Grade Ultimate Swords had ever been created: Zhanlu, Chixiao, Tai’e, Chunjun, Chengying, and Qixing Longyuan. Each was a legendary sword.

Only two remained in the palace: the sword Chengying, carried by the old Sword Saint, and the Qixing Longyuan, guarded by the Sword Pool Lake. The others had long been lost. In the last two thousand years, the highest grade sword forged by the masters here had only been First-Grade. A First-Grade Ultimate Sword was the pinnacle, the lifelong pursuit of every master smith!

"No, this rhythm... it doesn't sound like Master Wang’s style!" Su Muzhe frowned.

The two looked at each other, a look of bewilderment in their eyes. "Could it be..."

They did not hesitate and flew toward Wang Yansheng’s smithy. By now, a dense crowd had gathered.

"Palace Master." Many greeted Su Muzhe respectfully. She nodded and asked for the situation. A swordsmith, bursting with words, poured it all out. Understanding the situation, Su Muzhe looked toward the smithy in shock. Five days and five nights of hammering, with his essence, spirit, and qi reaching such a state! This youth... what kind of monster is he?

She looked at Zhao Huangting, as if asking with her eyes: "What kind of monster did you bring back?"

Zhao Huangting was equally shocked. How would he know An Le could forge? But facing Su Muzhe’s gaze, he kept his composure, crossing his arms and maintaining a mysterious, all-knowing smile.

Suddenly, the hammering sound—the sound of thunder striking the earth—stopped abruptly. Everyone’s heart skipped a beat. A master swordsmith murmured: "The aura has reached its peak. The youth has reached his limit..."

"A pity, at most a Second-Grade... Huh?!"

Before the master could finish, his eyes widened. Inside the smithy, a new sound began, like a giant hand lifting the exhausted arm that could no longer raise the hammer.

...

An Le panted heavily. After five days and nights without rest, the Yuan Spirit iron blank had taken the shape of a long sword, its crimson body glowing like the scorching sun. After nearly ten thousand strikes, An Le felt his blood and qi had reached their limit, and his mind could no longer support the weight of this aura.

He exhaled, his muscles bulging under his green robes, veins rolling like earth dragons beneath his skin. Ancient scripture characters intertwined on his skin—this was the result of his body-tempering reaching its extreme!

As the momentum of his last strike stalled, An Le felt as if a mountain of sword qi was about to collapse and crush him into dust. However, with a crisp *clink*, the sound of a hammer striking, his aura was caught.

An Le panted and looked over. He saw the silver-haired old man holding a hammer in one hand, striking and creating a sound, carrying the weight of the sword qi for him.

"Continue!" the old man said gravely.

An Le panted and swung the hammer again.

*Clang—Ding!*

*Clang—Ding!*

After An Le struck, the old man followed with a strike of his own. From one sound, it became two, pulling the collapsing aura back together and stacking it once more!

The Earth Immortal Fire exploded, and the fire in the furnace flared brilliantly. Wan Jieliu, drenched in sweat, was still maintaining the fire and tossing in secret additives to aid the process!

At this moment, Wang Yansheng, having helped An Le lift his aura, was trembling uncontrollably. He felt the divine intent coming from An Le—an intent that made the sword itself rejoice!

Suddenly, Wang Yansheng understood why An Le could ring the bell thirty-six times and why he could have an aura like a mountain on his first attempt at forging.

It was talent! It was physique! It was an irreplaceable destiny!

Scenes flashed before his eyes—a once-in-a-thousand-years destiny! Tears welled up in Wang Yansheng’s eyes. He had always wanted to forge a First-Grade Ultimate Sword, to surpass the ancients and become a great swordsmith whose name would be remembered forever. But he knew how difficult it was.

He had spent decades refining a single sword, yet he had never been sure he could reach the First-Grade Ultimate level. He could always feel the emotion of failure; he could never see the hope of success. But today, he had grasped a thread of destiny!

If he did not seize this thread, he would never have another chance in this life!

"What if I fail? What if I succeed?"

"What if this sword doesn't belong to me?"

"I only seek this thread of destiny today to forge this sword!!!"

"Sword, come!!!"

Wang Yansheng laughed aloud. As he struck to support An Le’s momentum, he reached out toward another, larger furnace that had been burning in the distance.

Instantly, that furnace shattered!

A sword blank, flowing with crimson liquid, streaked through the air and, with perfect timing, collided with the space where An Le’s hammer was falling.

*Crackle!*

It was as if infinite magma had exploded in the furnace like falling rain!

A far more terrifying sword qi and intent erupted instantly!

Both inside and outside the smithy, everyone’s expression changed!

The world’s greatest swordsmith, Wang Yansheng... had gone mad!