Chapter Fourteen: Forging Divine Power

In a somewhat modest home.

Su Ling practiced his martial technique briefly and found that this particular skill surprisingly suited him well, allowing him to progress at an astonishing speed…

The reason likely lay in his extraordinary physique; after all, the existence of the Limit Breaker was inherently unreasonable.

An unconventional training method combined with an extraordinary constitution produced results far beyond a simple sum.

A heavy, muffled thud echoed as tremendous force, enough to shatter steel, radiated from his pounding fists against his chest…

At first, he only felt a dull soreness and itchiness in his chest, which quickly subsided, but the unexpected effect on tempering his soul was remarkably evident.

Upon this realization, a twitch flickered at the corner of Su Ling’s eye. With his head lowered and face darkened, his mind was filled with complex emotions.

Perhaps due to his superhuman constitution, the pain typically accompanying soul tempering was nearly negligible.

Commonly known as the negative side effect of a skill, it simply couldn’t inflict real harm on him…

Could it be that he had to rely on this seemingly self-destructive method to improve his mastery of the martial art?

Although this almost cheat-like effect was undeniably tempting, Su Ling was not one who enjoyed suffering, nor did he possess such beast-like endurance.

In fact, there was another training method, suggested by Master Ruan, who understood that this technique’s traditional practice was excessively cruel.

Therefore, Master Ruan provided him with an alternative perspective: blacksmithing—literally forging iron.

With nearly half a lifetime of experience as a blacksmith, Master Ruan’s vast knowledge, enough to overwhelm an ordinary mind, fully supported a method where Su Ling could temper his soul during the forging process itself, without relying on external pounding.

This was why Master Ruan recommended this martial art to him—because a matching training method had been found.

One must admit, Master Ruan was exceptionally kind to his disciple, withholding no skill whatsoever.

As for how Master Ruan’s method would actually perform, that would only be clear when Su Ling went to the forge tomorrow and experimented with blacksmithing…

——

Six months later.

At the Dragon Riding Alley blacksmith shop.

Although the interior was somewhat dim due to the unique architectural design, sunlight outside failed to brighten the room.

Yet the forge’s interior was well illuminated by a massive spherical furnace nearly three meters tall, roaring with blazing flames of such intensity that no ordinary person could approach.

Within this extreme environment, a sturdy figure cast a long, flickering shadow that stretched far across the floor, seemingly unaffected by the heat.

Before the dark, heavy anvil stood Su Ling, shirtless, gripping a pair of steel tongs heated red-hot in the fire with one hand, and wielding a short-handled hammer in the other.

His expression barely shifted as he grasped the red-hot tongs firmly, withdrawing from the furnace and placing the semi-molten refined iron on the anvil.

Su Ling inhaled the thin, scorching air deeply, then raised the large hammer. With a surge of strength, the hammer whistled through the air and struck the glowing iron billet.

With a metallic clang, molten iron droplets splattered like volcanic rain, some of which landed on his bare skin.

Yet, rather than burning through, the droplets flowed over his skin like water meeting an unyielding refractory wall, pooling into the drainage grooves beneath his feet.

At the same moment, a tremendous backlash force capable of shattering the innards of a Qi-practicing warrior surged through the hammer.

This destructive energy rapidly spread up his arm and throughout his body, but instead of fracturing his flesh, it was absorbed by the martial art he cultivated, converting into nourishment for tempering his soul.

Through Master Ruan’s blacksmithing knowledge, Su Ling had found an alternative way to train his martial skill—one that suited him.

This method spared him from self-harm, though its soul-tempering effect was somewhat less potent.

Su Ling’s expression remained calm, regarding the terrifying scene before him as nothing more than fleeting smoke, repeatedly hammering the refined iron on the anvil into shape.

He worked like a hydraulic machine at full power, tirelessly swinging the hammer at a deafening pace.

After continuous pounding, the hammerhead glowed a carbon red, not just the refined iron still glowing fiercely, but the entire hammer itself radiated a fiery red—as if warning that it was nearing the limit of its endurance.

Yet Su Ling paid no mind; as long as the hammer remained intact, he would continue until the refined iron was forged into the desired form.

Though blacksmithing was a form of training, to him it was simply hammering.

“At last, it’s forged.”

Su Ling exhaled a puff of hot, murky breath, as if his body itself was a furnace hotter than the forge.

He casually put down the hammer, its handle broken and head severely deformed. With rough hands, he picked up the freshly forged steel bracers before him.

There were two bracers, crafted using the folding and forging techniques from his previous life, giving them a pitch-black finish with a faint, eerie sheen.

More than mere bracers, they resembled arm guards—formidable and fierce in appearance, yet restrained overall, evoking the strange aura of a slumbering ancient beast.

Incredible as it seemed for mere steel, these objects carried the breath of life.

Seeing this, Su Ling couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Finally, his broad spectrum of knowledge from his past life had found its purpose here.

Without waiting for the intense heat contained within the bracers to dissipate naturally, he donned them on his arms.

To experience them firsthand, Su Ling turned and strode out of the blacksmith shop, drawing the attention of the apprentices hammering iron nearby.

But their gazes were not filled with jealousy, envy, or rivalry—instead, there was a pure numbness.

The blacksmith apprentices stared blankly, seemingly accustomed to Su Ling’s bizarre methods.

When he first arrived, they still wanted to humble this little junior disciple, but soon they gave up completely—because it was simply too exhausting.

Comparing their talents to his, even in the arduous craft of blacksmithing, the apprentices were no match—not even worthy opponents; more like green leaves alongside a blooming peony.

The more the comparison, the greater the disparity—humans compared to humans could breed frustration; goods compared to goods could breed shame.

Thus, these apprentices lost any sense of superiority as seniors and degenerated into timid cowards who dared not approach this monster, only watching from afar.

This was literal: during his forging, whether Qi-practicing warriors or fully prepared fighters, all suffered internal injuries from the continuous shockwaves and couldn’t come within a step of him.

This explained why the apprentices were so numb, even repulsed at the sight of what seemed a monster.