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

Just do it.

Zhou Lingxuan was not a hesitant person. Having lived for over a hundred years, he knew better than anyone that once an opportunity was missed, it would never come back.

He rearranged the forging workshop he had borrowed from the equipment shop and skillfully opened the fire valve.

call!

A dark blue flame rose again from the bottom of the hearth, casting an intermittent glow on the dilapidated hut.

Zhou Lingxuan did not immediately go to get the iron materials.

He first sat cross-legged in front of the stove, closed his eyes, and focused his mind on his dantian.

The true energy that had just been born after breaking through to the first level of Qi Refining flowed slowly through the meridians like a gentle stream.

With a thought, he tried to force out a wisp of true energy from his fingertips.

laugh.

A wisp of white air took shape at my fingertip, only half an inch long. It twisted twice in the air before disappearing without a trace.

Zhou Lingxuan frowned.

too weak.

With that little bit of true energy, let alone forging, it probably wouldn't even be enough to hold a red-hot piece of iron.

He calmed himself down again and recalled the records in that yellowed booklet.

"Drawing the essence of heaven and earth into the sword embryo..."

Zhou Lingxuan opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the pile of red copper and cold iron that he had snatched from Steward Sun in the corner.

Although the materials had been tampered with by Qi Tang, their quality had far surpassed that of ordinary materials after being purified by him using the purple jade hammer.

He took a deep breath and no longer hesitated.

He didn't touch those top-grade spiritual materials, but instead picked up a piece of the most ordinary refined iron from the waste pile and threw it into the furnace.

For him, blacksmithing is as natural as breathing.

The hammer was swung up and then brought down.

clang!

Sparks flew everywhere.

This time, Zhou Lingxuan felt completely different.

He wasn't just using brute force to strike; he was carefully channeling the faint internal energy within his body into the hammer through the meridians in his arm.

clang!clang!clang!

The sound of hammering became crisper and more rhythmic than before.

With each hammer blow, a wisp of true energy travels along the hammerhead and seeps into the red-hot iron blank.

Impurities in the iron ingot are gradually forced out under the impact of true energy, turning into black iron filings that continuously peel off.

In just half an hour.

A piece of ordinary iron, under Zhou Lingxuan's hammer, gradually stretched and took on the shape of a sword.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Zhou Lingxuan's forehead; he had already consumed nearly half of his internal energy.

He stopped moving, took a couple of breaths, and closed his eyes again.

Deep within his consciousness, he slowly activated the pure sword intent extracted from the sword-testing stone.

This is much more difficult than mobilizing one's inner energy.

Sword intent is formless and intangible, yet it is domineering and unparalleled.

Zhou Lingxuan was completely focused, as if he were threading an invisible needle, carefully peeling a trace of sword intent from his sea of ​​consciousness and attaching it to the surface of the iron hammer.

hum!

The hammer emitted a slight hum.

Zhou Lingxuan suddenly opened his eyes, his arm muscles bulged, and he swung the iron hammer down again!

He used all his strength in that hammer blow.

clang!!!

An unprecedentedly loud explosion erupted in the abandoned hall.

When the hammer struck the sword blank, it no longer emitted ordinary sparks, but rather extremely fine white air currents!

The sword blank is compacted and stretched at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The blade's outline became even sharper under the hammer blows.

Zhou Lingxuan's movements became faster and faster.

Chop, flick, intercept, stab.

He incorporated the basic sword techniques he learned from the remnants of the Sword Tomb into his forging without reservation.

He seemed to become one with the hammer, his figure flashing and shifting in the firelight, not like he was forging iron, but more like he was practicing a set of powerful and unparalleled hammer techniques.

Time passed little by little.

The sky outside changed from deep black to pale white.

As the first rays of dawn shone through the broken window into the small house, Zhou Lingxuan struck the final blow with his hammer.

clang!

He threw away the hammer, picked up the crimson longsword with pliers, and tossed it directly into the quenching water vat next to him.

scoff-

A thick white mist instantly rose up, enveloping the entire small house.

Zhou Lingxuan was panting heavily, his whole body was soaked with sweat as if he had been pulled out of the water.

The internal energy was completely depleted, and even the sea of ​​consciousness was experiencing sharp pains.

He leaned against the wall and walked to the water vat.

The fog dissipated.

A three-foot-long sword lay quietly at the bottom of the water.

The sword is straight, with a chilling gleam, and its surface can even reflect a person's image.

Zhou Lingxuan reached out and scooped it up.

The sword felt slightly heavy in my hand, and a sharp aura emanated from it.

He casually made a light scratch on the corner of the wooden table next to him.

Silently.

The corner of the solid wood table was cut open like tofu, with a smooth, mirror-like cut.

"A fine sword."

Zhou Linghan couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

This sword is definitely the best among all the ordinary iron weapons he has ever forged in his life.

They have even reached the threshold of mastering magical artifacts.

He gripped his sword, stood in the center of the room, held his breath, and carefully sensed the movements around him.

Take a breath.

Ten breaths.

A stick of incense.

……

The surroundings were quiet, with only a few bird calls coming from afar.

What purple aura coming from the east, what harmony between heaven and earth, what bestowal of a name by the heavens...

There wasn't even a fart.

Zhou Lingxuan waited for a full half hour, until the long sword in his hand was almost warm from being held so much, but the entire abandoned hall remained peaceful.

He finally shook his head helplessly and gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"I was definitely overthinking it."

He casually tossed the newly forged longsword onto the anvil, turned around, pushed open the door, and prepared to go to work at the bottom of the valley.

As soon as I stepped out of the courtyard, I saw Old Qin yawning, carrying a small stool, and slowly swaying over.

"Brother Zhou, were you demolishing the house again last night? It was clanging and banging all night long."

Old Qin plopped down on a wooden bench in the yard, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over the anvil.

The next second, his yawn froze on his face.

Old Qin suddenly stood up, rushed to the anvil, and grabbed the brand-new longsword.

He first held the sword up to his eyes, carefully examining every inch of the blade's texture.

Then, he extended his finger and lightly flicked the sharp blade.

hum-

A clear, melodious sword cry echoed through the courtyard.

For the first time, an extremely serious expression appeared in Old Qin's usually sleepy and cloudy eyes.

"Were you...forging swords last night?"

"I was just killing time, so I played a game casually."

Zhou Lingxuan leaned against the door frame, his tone indifferent.

"As it turned out, what Elder Chen said was all unreliable rumors."

"rumor?"

Old Qin suddenly turned his head and stared intently at Zhou Lingxuan.

"Who told you this was just a rumor?"

Zhou Lingxuan was taken aback by his serious demeanor.

"Didn't you also say that no one in history has ever walked this path? I tried all night, and apart from forging a slightly sharper iron sword, I didn't see any other unusual phenomena."

Old Qin took a deep breath and placed the longsword back on the anvil.

He looked at Zhou Lingxuan and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Just because no one has managed to get through it doesn't mean the path is fake."

"Brother Zhou, let me ask you, do you know what the most important thing is for a cultivator to reach the Foundation Establishment stage?"

Zhou Lingxuan shook his head.

"It is 'seeing the Way'."

Old Qin's voice became deep and resonant, completely devoid of his usual nonchalant demeanor.

"For mortals, the path from Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment is an insurmountable chasm. Once crossed, the cultivator's soul can resonate faintly with heaven and earth, thus seeing a path that best suits them."

"Some see it as the way of killing, and from then on, their swords are never drawn, and when they are drawn, they must draw blood. Others see it as the way of protecting, and from then on, they cherish all living beings and strive to save them."

"This is the true path of a cultivator."

Zhou Lingxuan listened quietly. These were secrets that he, as an outer sect servant, would never have the opportunity to access.

"Besides these grand and orthodox paths of cultivation, there are countless unorthodox and heretical paths in the world."

Old Qin pointed to the long sword on the anvil.

"Forging swords, refining weapons, drawing talismans, refining elixirs, even planting flowers and raising fish... all of these can lead to enlightenment."

"However, these unorthodox paths lack systematic cultivation methods and clear realm divisions. Success depends entirely on two words: luck."

Zhou Ling-Xuan frowned: "If that's the case, why do those weapon-refining masters...?"

"Because they can't afford to waste time!"

Old Qin interrupted him directly.

"A cultivator's lifespan is finite. Now that they have embarked on their own path of faith, why would they waste hundreds of years gambling on a vague and illusory unorthodox path?"

Old Qin patted Zhou Lingxuan on the shoulder, his tone more solemn than ever before.

"Brother Zhou, listen to my advice. You're not truly a useless person. Your character and potential are far stronger than you think."

He sighed, looking at Zhou Lingxuan with a complicated expression.

"That's why I don't want you to go down this path. Forging swords to achieve the Dao sounds tempting, but since ancient times, how many brilliant and talented weapon-forging masters has it devoured? This path is a dead end, a dead end."

"Given your background, you shouldn't gamble your life on something so uncertain. Stay calm, there will always be other ways."

Zhou Lingxuan didn't speak, but simply nodded and thanked him.

Old Qin thought he had taken it to heart, so he didn't say anything more. He turned around, picked up his small stool, and went to find a sunny spot to eat sunflower seeds.

Zhou Lingxuan looked at the gleaming longsword on the anvil, then at his own hands.

No barriers to entry...

Even mortals can walk...

He had an extremely strong premonition.

Perhaps... I will eventually have to walk this path.

He shook his head, stopped thinking about it, and turned back to the wooden house that had been ransacked.

He slept very soundly that night.

I slept until the sun was high in the sky before being awakened by hunger in my stomach.

Zhou Lingxuan stretched and felt his whole body relax and feel more comfortable than ever before.

He pushed open the door of the wooden hut, intending to go to the servants' kitchen to find something to eat.

However, as soon as he took a step, he froze on the spot as if he had been frozen in place.

His gaze was fixed on the path leading down the mountain outside the abandoned hall courtyard.