A Mortal's Journey to Immortality: Starting as a Sword-Forging Servant and Ascending to Immorta

The door to the weapon-refining room was suddenly pushed open.

Thirty inner-class craftsmen filed in.

These people were originally waiting outside, but when they heard Chen Baichuan's shout, they all rushed in.

The fire in the main furnace was reignited.

Chen Baichuan pointed to the clean pile of cold-sound iron on the ground.

"The materials are fine, and the fire poison has been completely cleared."

"Everyone back in position, start forging the shields!"

The craftsmen hurried to their respective forging stations.

Du Heng stood beside the main furnace, his face even more grim than before.

He didn't move, his fingers flying across the inside of his wide sleeves, calculating rapidly.

As he calculated, cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

Elder Chen.

Du Heng turned around, his voice dry.

"It's too late."

Chen Baichuan's breath, which had just been relieved, instantly rose again.

"What nonsense! The materials are all ready, how can it be too late?"

Du Heng pointed to the pile of cold-sounding iron, and then to the funnel on the wall.

"Thirty craftsmen, one furnace per person."

"From smelting, forging, quenching, and finally engraving the spirit-gathering array patterns, this is a complete process."

"Each person is responsible for the entire process, and the tools need to be changed three times and the route of the internal energy circulation needs to be adjusted twice."

The more Du Heng calculated, the paler his face became.

"Even the fastest and most skilled craftsman can only produce one shield in an hour."

"There are only three hours left until the end of the Chen hour (7-9 AM)."

"Thirty people, working day and night, at most they can produce ninety noodles."

Du Heng raised his head and looked at Chen Baichuan.

"Ten more sides to go."

"The mission is doomed to fail."

No one spoke in the weapon-refining room.

The craftsmen who had just reached the forging platform all stopped what they were doing.

There is no difference between ninety-square-meter and zero-square-meter items in sect missions.

If it can't be finished, it can't be finished.

The fat on Chen Baichuan's face twitched twice.

He turned sharply to look at the funnel, where sand was slowly leaking out.

The timing was too tight.

"Then fight with all your might!"

Chen Baichuan slapped the anvil.

"Squeeze out your true energy and speed things up! Whoever can produce two shields within an hour, I'll reward him with one hundred mid-grade spirit stones!"

No one responded.

Du Heng smiled bitterly.

"Elder, this is not a matter of spirit stones."

"The art of weapon crafting requires the guidance of vital energy, and must be completed in one continuous flow. Forcibly accelerating the process will disrupt the flow of true energy, inevitably destroying the engraved array."

"Then there will be even more waste from the oven, and we won't even be able to save 90 pieces."

Chen Baichuan stood frozen in place.

Dead end.

The materials were salvaged, but time was running out.

Zhou Lingxuan stood aside, watching the group of cultivators who were anxiously pacing around.

He walked up to Du Heng.

"Why should one person handle the entire process?"

Du Heng was taken aback.

"That's just how weapon crafting is."

"Objects possess a spirit. From the initial conception to the final form, they must be nurtured by the same person's true qi in order to maintain a continuous flow of energy."

Zhou Lingxuan shook his head.

"That's the problem with you cultivators who pursue 'one person becoming a master'."

"Ordinary blacksmith shops never do this when they're rushing to meet a deadline."

Du Heng frowned.

"How can the skill of a mortal blacksmith be compared to that of a cultivator forging weapons?"

Zhou Lingxuan pointed to the pile of cold-sound iron on the ground.

"What is this?"

"Cold Sound Iron".

"What was refined?"

"Frost Shield"

Zhou Lingxuan looked at him.

"Standard ritual implements, one for each person, something to be thrown away when broken."

"What kind of continuous flow of energy do you want?"

Du Heng opened his mouth, but choked.

Zhou Lingxuan turned to look at Chen Baichuan.

"Thirty people, divided into three groups."

"Ten men, each with a large sledgehammer, stood by the furnace, simply forging and shaping the wood."

"Ten people, guarding the water tank, just doing their job of quenching."

"The remaining ten people, take carving knives and just draw the array patterns."

The weapon-refining room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

All the craftsmen stared at the old man dressed in the clothes of a former steward.

Du Heng stared wide-eyed and waved his hands repeatedly.

"absurd!"

"This is utterly absurd!"

"If the power is switched midway, the vital energy will be disrupted, and the magical artifact will completely lose its spiritual power!"

Zhou Lingxuan remained calm.

"The consequence is that these shields are all the same, lacking any spirit."

"But what the sect needs are a hundred qualified shields that can block swords, not family heirlooms to be displayed in the ancestral hall."

Du Heng's breath hitched.

Zhou Lingxuan continued speaking.

"It saves time compared to changing tools."

"It saves time that would otherwise be spent adjusting one's internal energy."

"Don't think about what to do next, don't worry about the traction of the air mechanism."

"Mechanical repetition of a single step, doing it blindfolded."

Zhou Lingxuan pointed to the funnel.

"Efficiency will definitely double."

Du Heng was still resisting.

"This is contrary to the principles of weapon crafting; it is a desecration of the art..."

"Shut up!"

Chen Baichuan suddenly let out a loud shout.

boom!

The pressure of the Golden Core stage cultivator was released without reservation, instantly enveloping the entire weapon-refining room.

Several craftsmen with lower cultivation levels were forced to bend over by the pressure.

Chen Baichuan's eyes were bloodshot as he stared at everyone.

"Do as he says!"

Du Heng became anxious.

"Elder, what if..."

"There's no 'what if'!"

Chen Baichuan grabbed Du Heng by the collar and pulled him in front of him.

"If we fail to complete the mission, the Weapon Hall will be crushed by that cunning old fox Liu Quan!"

"Now, I don't care about any art of weapon forging, I just want one hundred shields!"

Chen Baichuan shoved Du Heng aside and turned around to shout.

"Ten men stand on the left, holding hammers!"

"Ten people stand in the middle, prepare the water!"

"Ten people, go to the right and get the carving knives!"

"quick!"

The Golden Core Elder lost his temper, and no one dared to utter another word.

The thirty craftsmen quickly split into three groups.

The assembly line is now fully operational.

The first piece of Cold Sound Iron, glowing red-hot, was picked out and thrown onto the anvil.

The craftsman in charge of forging swung his sledgehammer, channeled his inner energy, and smashed it down relentlessly.

He doesn't need to consider the timing of quenching, nor does he need to retain his true energy to inscribe the array.

He had only one thought in his mind: smash it flat!

when!when!when!

After a few hammer blows, the shield blank took shape.

The craftsman didn't even look at it; he simply used iron tongs to pick up the shield blank and threw it behind him.

"then!"

The craftsman, who was quenching the steel in the middle, caught it steadily and pressed it directly into the icy quenching tank.

scoff-

White smoke rose.

The quenching craftsman doesn't need to worry about the temperature; he's only responsible for sensing when the temperature drops to freezing point.

Once the shield cools down, retrieve it and throw it back.

"Engrave the array!"

The craftsman on the right caught the shield and picked up the carving knife.

He didn't need to expend physical strength to forge iron; his true energy was extremely abundant.

With a flick of his wrist, the spirit-gathering array pattern was completed in one smooth motion.

The whole process was smooth and seamless.

No one stopped to change their tools.

No one stopped to adjust their breathing.

The first Frost Shield, from a red-hot iron block to the finished product, took less than half an incense stick's time.

Du Heng stood to the side, completely dumbfounded.

He watched as the shield was thrown to the ground with a crisp sound.

He walked over, bent down, and picked up the shield.

True Qi is poured in.

A layer of icy blue light shone on the surface of the shield, exuding a chilling aura.

It lacks spirituality.

Rigid, inflexible, and monotonous.

However, the array pattern is complete and the material is sturdy.

It fully meets the sect's acceptance standards for standardized ritual implements.

Du Heng's hand trembled slightly.

"continue!"

Chen Baichuan watched with his eyes shining and shouted at the top of his lungs.