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

Zhou Lingxuan did not touch the Heaven-Forging Hammer again.

Although the previous round of tempering was incredibly effective, the feeling of muscle tearing and rebuilding still lingered in my body.

He lived for nearly a hundred years and knew all too well the principle that haste makes waste.

There's an old saying in blacksmith shops: slow tempering is worse than a hundred forgings.

Good steel needs to be polished slowly; if the heat is too high, it will be ruined.

Although he is much stronger now, he is still an old man at heart.

If you really push yourself too far, you might be even worse than those useless pills.

Anyway, with my current physique, I should be able to last another ten or twenty years without any problem.

What's the rush?

However, the waste materials in those boxes cannot be wasted.

Zhou Lingxuan squatted back down next to the box and took out the items inside one by one.

The half-melted fragments of magical artifacts, the condensed crystals of poison, and the remnants of beast bones—each one that touched the palm of the hand would automatically have its remaining spiritual power and toxins absorbed by the small purple jade hammer in the sea of ​​consciousness.

Once the box was emptied, the small hammer gleamed even brighter.

Over the next few hours, the four servants made five more trips back and forth.

Each time, he would put the box in the same spot, panting, and run off without saying another word.

Occasionally, the short, stout one would glance in Zhou Lingxuan's direction and then quicken his pace.

Zhou Lingxuan cleaned up all seven boxes of waste materials, leaving none behind.

The empty shells that should have been thrown into the fire pit were thrown into the fire pit, and the little hammer devoured all the spiritual energy and toxins that should have been absorbed.

By the time the last servant's figure disappeared at the end of the stone steps, it was already dark.

The fire at the bottom of the valley reflected the sliver of sky above, turning it from pale blue to grayish-purple.

Zhou Lingxuan stopped and walked back to his residence along the same route.

As he passed a crevice in a cliff, he noticed spring water seeping out.

The water volume is not large, but its clarity is its greatest asset.

He stripped off his clothes and rinsed himself thoroughly, washing away the blood and grime from his body.

After rinsing, the clothes I was wearing were really unbearable to look at.

Zhou Lingxuan pulled out a set of drab, coarse cloth clothes from the cloth bag the old man had given him.

The style and color of the abandoned hall are similar to the stones in this valley.

After putting it on, I looked much more neat and tidy.

When we returned to the cabin, the doors of the neighboring cabins were all closed.

You can faintly hear coughing and turning over inside.

Those laborers, after a day's work in this miasma-filled environment, were lucky if they didn't fall ill; they had no energy left for cultivation.

Zhou Lingxuan pushed open the door to his room and locked the board from the inside.

There was no oil lamp, but the night vision ability of the eighth level of body tempering was enough to see everything in the room clearly.

He sat down at the table with the missing leg, closed his eyes, and drifted into a trance.

The purple jade hammer floated in the center of the sea of ​​consciousness, its body shimmering with a pale purple light.

Today, we absorbed seven boxes of waste, and the stored power inside is already quite considerable.

Zhou Lingxuan stared at the small hammer for a long time.

If you can't rush to break through your cultivation level and you're not going to temper your body for the time being, then where can you use all that power?

He pondered the four supernatural powers of the Heaven-Forging Hammer repeatedly in his mind.

First quenching, second forging, third melting, fourth casting.

He had already used the first three methods: tempering his physical body, forging his meridians, and refining his consciousness.

The fourth one, however, remains a mystery.

The Heavenly Hammer is, after all, just a hammer.

What is a hammer used for? To forge iron.

What does a blacksmith do? He casts objects.

He spent ninety years forging iron and produced more than 990,000 swords.

His understanding of forging is probably unmatched by most people in the entire Heavenly Sword Pavilion.

What if the power from the small hammer were directly channeled into a weapon?

Thinking of this, Zhou Lingxuan took out a short sword from his storage bag.

The sword was 1.3 feet long and completely black; it was one of the last batches of ordinary iron swords he made at the outer gate blacksmith shop.

Made with solid materials and meticulously crafted, it would fetch a good price in the mundane world. Chopping wood and cutting bones is no problem for it, and it can even shave iron with decent skill.

But in the world of cultivation, it's just a piece of scrap metal.

It doesn't even qualify as the lowest-grade magical artifact.

Zhou Lingxuan placed the short sword horizontally on the table. With a thought, the purple jade hammer appeared in his right palm from his sea of ​​consciousness.

He hesitated for a moment.

Going all out from the start is definitely not a good idea.

When I hit myself before, I used all the power stored in the small hammer, and almost broke myself apart.

The amount must be controlled.

Zhou Lingxuan tried to focus his mind, dividing one-fifth of the power inside the small hammer and concentrating it on the hammer surface.

The purple light converged, transforming from a diffused beam into a concentrated point of light.

That's all.

Zhou Lingxuan aimed the ordinary iron short sword on the table and gently brought the hammer down.

thump.

With a dull thud, the short sword bounced up completely.

Immediately afterwards, the sword began to tremble, and a layer of white light appeared on its surface.

The white light quickly turned silver, and the silver light then transformed into a cold, chilling gleam.

Zhou Lingxuan's hand was still half a foot away from the short sword, but he could already feel a chill creeping up his fingertips.

No, it's spiritual power.

Spiritual energy condensed on the mortal iron sword!

Zhou Lingxuan's eyes widened.

Is this sword undergoing an upgrade? Is it moving from ordinary iron to a spiritual weapon?

The cold light grew stronger.

The short sword hovered three inches above the table, and blurry patterns began to appear on its blade.

That was the prototype of spirit runes.

One.

Two paths.

The third spirit rune had only taken halfway when the short sword emitted a clear and melodious sword cry.

Spiritual artifact.

This ordinary iron short sword, after being struck by the Heaven-Forging Hammer, directly skipped the magic weapon stage and stepped into the threshold of the spiritual weapon.

Zhou Lingxuan's heart raced; he was somewhat excited.

But the excitement lasted only three seconds.

The sword's cry abruptly ceased.

The suspended short sword trembled violently, and the third spiritual rune shattered.

The cold light vanished abruptly.

Click.

The voice was crisp and clear.

The short sword split in two and fell back onto the table.

Before Zhou Lingxuan could even reach out to catch it, the two halves shattered into pieces. Within three breaths, the entire sword was reduced to a pile of iron filings.

The room fell silent.

Zhou Lingxuan looked at the crumbs scattered on the table and picked up a piece.

With a slight exertion of force, the iron sheet turned into powder.

It's even crispier than tofu.

Not only did the spiritual energy dissipate, but even the toughness of the ordinary iron itself was lost.

It was as if all the matter was drained away in that instant, leaving only an empty shell.

If it can't hold up, it will naturally break.

Zhou Lingxuan put down the powder in his hand, his back covered in a layer of cold sweat.

He stared at the pile of rubble, with only one thought in his mind.

Fortunately, it was a sword that he hammered, not himself.

When he was tempering his physical body, he poured all his stored power into the Heavenly Hammer.

I was in excruciating pain at the time, and my muscles were torn and reassembled all over my body.

Looking back, the reason nothing went wrong was because the Heavenly Hammer hadn't absorbed enough power.

In addition, his foundation at the eighth level of body tempering barely allowed him to withstand that intensity.

But what if the power were even greater?

What if he hadn't tried using the sword first, but instead struck himself with a hammer?

Zhou Lingxuan gasped.

The answer is clear: he will be like this sword, first expanding, then collapsing, and finally shattering into pieces.

The enhancement from the Forged Hammer was too drastic, exceeding the limits that the material itself could withstand, resulting in a devastating backlash.

Whether it's about objects or people.

"Give me a little."

Zhou Lingxuan swept the scraps of iron on the table into his storage bag to avoid leaving any traces.

He sat back down at the table and re-examined the Heaven-Forging Hammer.

The concept of the Four Great Supernatural Powers became clear.

Just like forging iron, if one strike isn't enough, then two strikes; if two strikes aren't enough, then ten strikes.

I'm in a hurry, it's a waste of iron.

Too slow, the iron will get cold.

Only by doing things just right can you produce good steel.

Zhou Lingxuan has been forging iron for ninety years, so he understands this principle.

Just as I was pondering my next plan, there was a knock on the door three times.

Thump, thump, thump.

It's not heavy, but the rhythm is very steady.

Zhou Lingxuan paused, subconsciously glancing at the table.

The debris has been collected, and the Heaven-Forging Hammer has long since returned to the sea of ​​consciousness.

"Who?"

An old voice came from outside the door.

"It's me, brother. I saw you during the day."

Zhou Lingxuan immediately recalled the strange old man who had emerged from the withered grass.

The steward's servant.

He got up, walked over, and unlatched the door.

The old man stood outside the door, the moonlight shining on his wrinkled face.

His eyes narrowed to slits, and he smiled like a Maitreya Buddha.

"It's so late, is there something you need?"

The old man rubbed his hands together and peeked into the house.

"Hehe, it's nothing much, I just wanted to chat with you for a bit. I was in a rush during the day and didn't have a chance to get to know you properly."

"My surname is Qin, and I am a few years older than you. If you don't mind, you can just call me Brother Qin."

Zhou Lingxuan sized him up.

When the old man emerged from the grass during the day, he could approach me silently.

This skill is something no ordinary servant should possess.

But since they've taken the initiative to be friendly, there's no reason to turn them away.

"Brother Qin," Zhou Lingxuan stepped aside to make room for him, "would you like to come in and sit down?"

"Oh, no, no."

"It's so late, I'm disturbing your rest. I'll just say a few words from the doorway."

Despite saying that, he leaned against the door frame, as if he wanted to have a long talk.

Zhou Lingxuan didn't expose him, and leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

"What would you like to talk about, Brother Qin?"

Old Qin chuckled twice, lowering his voice.

"Brother, I've been wanting to ask you this all day. Are you Zhou Lingxuan, the one who spent ninety years forging iron in the outer sect and summoned the Heavenly Sword by forging a million swords?"

"it's me."

Zhou Lingxuan did not deny it. The matter had spread throughout the entire sect, so denying it would be useless.

Old Qin nodded repeatedly, a glint of light flashing in his narrowed eyes.

"Incredible, truly remarkable. To forge a million swords in ninety years—I admire that kind of perseverance."

Zhou Lingxuan did not respond.

Is he just here to flatter? Doesn't seem like it.

Sure enough, Old Qin paused for a moment, then changed the subject.

"Then, brother, having forged so many swords, your craftsmanship must be top-notch?"

"good."

"Then let me ask you something."

Old Qin leaned forward and lowered his voice even further.

"You can forge swords, but what about repairing them?"