Douluo Continent III Haotian Wulin

Cen Yue stared at the pair of hammers in Tang Wulin's hand, his expression clearly changing.

A hammer made of 1000-times-forged tungsten steel.

And it's not just for show.

When this child holds the hammer, his wrist is steady, his shoulders and back are relaxed, and there is not the slightest unnecessary wobbling between the hammer handle and his palm. This alone is enough to tell a lot.

A 40-kilogram hammer made of tungsten steel is so heavy that even some adults who have just passed the first-level assessment might not be able to wield it for an extended period of time, let alone a nine-year-old child. Forging is never just about being able to swing it; the real challenge lies in maintaining rhythm, precision, and physical strength under such weight.

Tang Wulin had clearly used them before.

Cen Yue remained silent.

The reviewer remained silent.

Because Tang Wulin has already started.

After the two hammer blows, he was completely in the zone. From the slight vibration the silver returned to him, he immediately determined that this piece of silver was very similar in quality and texture to the one he had forged in Aolai City. With this familiarity, he became even more composed.

The two hammers were swung one after the other, and the hammering force quickly intensified.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

"Bang, bang, bang, bang!"

The sound was clear and the rhythm was consistent.

The slushy silver under the hammer constantly changed, impurities on the surface were forced out little by little, and the outline of the edges began to slowly tighten. Tang Wulin's ears were constantly twitching slightly, listening to the sound of the hammer, the echo, and the increasingly clear response from the inside of the slushy silver.

After arriving in Donghai City, almost everything he encountered was new.

A new city, a new college, a new dormitory, new classmates.

Even the troubles are new.

From registering for duty to moving into the dormitory, and then to the teaching affairs office and that compensation payment, he barely had a moment's peace that day. But now, standing in front of the forging table, holding the familiar thousand-forged tungsten steel hammer in his hand, listening to the sound of the heavy silver being hammered, all the things that had been weighing him down suddenly seemed to recede a little.

He understands this.

The forging table wouldn't deliberately make things difficult for him, and the metal wouldn't smudge his blankets for no reason. If it's hard, it will tell you it's hard; if you strike accurately, it will give you a response. Forging has its own rules, and Tang Wulin is familiar with those rules.

As the hammer continued to strike, the reviewer's expression gradually became serious.

She had seen too many evaluators: nervous, overconfident, technically skilled but emotionally unstable, physically strong but with a chaotic rhythm. But it was rare to see someone like this child, who could control their performance so cleanly right from the start.

More importantly, he was no stranger to the sunken silver.

It's not just about knowing that the metal is heavy, hard, and valuable; it's about truly knowing how to forge it.

After watching dozens more hammer blows, she had already made a judgment.

Level 1 standard is probably too low for this child.

The Level 1 Blacksmith assessment tests "ability to purify"; but what Tang Wulin is forging now is more than just purification. He's refining the texture, controlling the shrinkage, and minimizing the losses from each ineffective strike.

This is already close to the level two approach.

Cen Yue stood to the side, remaining silent.

But the look in his eyes was completely different from when he first entered.

From the moment Tang Wulin struck the first blow, he stopped treating this child as a "nine-year-old novice trying his luck." The more he observed, the clearer it became that Mang Tian sent him not to curry favor with the association, but because this child was truly qualified.

The hammering grew more frequent.

Tang Wulin's rhythm didn't get messed up because of the speed.

The stress marks on the surface of the immersion silver became more and more even, the edges gradually narrowed, and the color began to show subtle changes. It wasn't a simple shine produced by fire, but rather the purity of the metal itself being revealed again after impurities were gradually forced out.

The reviewer glanced down at the time.

Less than twenty minutes had passed.

He had already clearly identified the purification process for this piece of sunken silver.

She felt a slight jolt in her heart.

This efficiency is quite high.

Just then, Tang Wulin changed the rhythm of his movements again.

His hammer wasn't heavier, but it became more stable. Each strike seemed to build upon the force of the previous one, without waste or squandering. The silver slowly "sank" down in this rhythm, the recoil becoming more solid, and the sound clearer.

The sound was initially just crisp, then gradually became pleasing to the ear, and later it even brought out a very clean sense of layering.

Upon hearing this, Cen Yue already understood the situation.

This kid will definitely pass Level 1.

Moreover, it won't just be "just right".

He was even considering whether to have Tang Wulin undergo a second-level test after this round. Given Tang Wulin's current performance, a first-level assessment wouldn't be a real selection criterion for him.

But Cen Yue did not interrupt.

He wants to see it.

Let's see how far this kid can damage this piece of silver.

Tang Wulin was unaware of what the two people beside him were thinking.

He had completely sunk in.

The two hammers fell steadily in his hands, his shoulders and back providing power, his waist and legs supporting the weight. The angle and force of each hammer blow were subtly adjusted. The thousand-forged tungsten steel hammers were heavy, but in his hands, the weight wasn't a hindrance, but rather a source of strength. The heavier the hammers, the more solid the blows, and the faster the refining process.

Time passed little by little.

The volume of the sunken silver has begun to show clear changes.

It's not big, but you can tell.

The reviewer's pen slowly came to a stop.

At this point, writing down those basic judgments is pointless. All she wants to know now is whether Tang Wulin can truly push this piece of silver past the first level and reach the second level within this hour.

Three-story outer hall.

The elevator doors opened, and two people stepped out.

Leading the way was a middle-aged man. He was dressed in a silver-gray close-fitting outfit, with a tall and upright figure and a composed demeanor. He wore a badge on his left breast, a gold-plated, hammer-shaped badge with eight black stars neatly arranged on it.

Eight-star master craftsman.

There is only one in the entire East Sea City Blacksmith Association.

He is the branch president, Mu Chen.

Beside him was a teenage girl. Her long golden hair was tied in a ponytail. She was tall, with striking features, and walked with a steady gait and a calm expression. She followed Mu Chen without any deliberate display of arrogance, yet the familiarity and confidence she had gained from growing up in a blacksmith's environment were still naturally present.

"President." The receptionist immediately stood up.

Mu Chen nodded.

"Mu Xi will conduct the Level 2 assessment. Just arrange the testers."

"Yes."

As the staff responded, they couldn't help but laugh, "Miss Mu Xi has already been assessed at level two, that's fast!"

Mu Xi didn't show any smugness at the praise; she simply nodded slightly.

For her, passing Level 2 was something she was supposed to do, and it wasn't worth getting too emotional about.

Just then, Mu Chen suddenly stopped.

"etc."

He tilted his head slightly.

The receptionist was taken aback.

"President, what's wrong?"

Mu Chen did not answer immediately.

His ears twitched slightly, and his gaze was already fixed on the direction of the third-floor interior corridor.

There was the sound of hammering.

It's very dense and very stable.

It wasn't a random clatter, but rather a distinct rhythmic sound, one after another. More importantly, there was no extraneous noise in the sound, indicating that the hammer strikes were precise and powerful, with each impact between the hammer and the metal landing precisely where it was meant to.

Mu Xi heard it too.

Her previously calm gaze now held a hint of seriousness.

"This isn't the sound of a typical testing room," she whispered.

Mu Chen nodded.

He listened to more than Mu Xi.

That wasn't the sound of ordinary metal; it had a very high density and a deep, resonant echo, suggesting it was a rare metal. Moreover, the person wielding the hammer was clearly in contact with the metal, not "hitting" it, but pressing it inwards along its grain.

This level of skill is something that someone who has only been practicing forging for a few months cannot achieve.

Mu Chen turned to the receptionist and asked, "Is anyone on the third floor taking a Level 4 or higher assessment today?"

The staff member was stunned for a moment, then quickly shook his head.

"No."

Mu Chen's brows twitched slightly.

No?

That makes the sound even more interesting.

He didn't delay any longer, and said to Mu Xi, "Go and prepare first. I'll go take a look."

Mu Xi also wanted to go see, but she knew she had to do a Level 2 evaluation later and couldn't be distracted, so she could only nod.

"it is good."

Mu Chen turned around and followed the sound of the hammer inside.

The closer you get, the clearer the sound becomes.

Every strike was solid, without any wavering or erratic movement. What's even more remarkable is that, despite such a high frequency, the rhythm was kept under control, indicating that the person striking the hammer not only possessed sufficient strength but also excellent stamina and control.

When Mu Chen arrived at the door of Test Room No. 3, he stopped.

Even through the door, he could hear it very clearly.

A thousand-times-forged hammer.

Moreover, the metal that was hammered down had already begun to merge with the person who wielded the hammer.