Chapter One Hundred and Four: First Taking Shape

Since he had decided to study the art of forging, Yang Yan wasted no hesitation. He took a deep breath, and the faint blue “Taiyin Force” swirling within his Qi Sea gathered onto two fingers of his right palm.

“Bang!”

A subtle explosion sounded. A sharp pain radiated from his swollen palm, causing Yang Yan to gasp sharply. Looking down, he saw his fingers had turned pitch black.

“You concentrated too much spiritual energy just now, so the moment the spiritual flame ignited, it exploded. Focus your mind, carefully sense that critical point, and try again,” Elder Yang’s voice advised.

Hearing this, Yang Yan nodded lightly, a look of determination surfacing in his eyes. He began to circulate the spiritual energy within his body once more.

“Puff!”

Though there was no explosion this time, the spiritual flame flickered briefly and then extinguished before he could even exclaim in surprise.

Elder Yang sighed softly and said, “You were too cautious this time. The spiritual energy you gathered wasn’t enough to sustain the flame, so it went out before you could place it into the furnace.”

Yang Yan nodded slightly, understanding the problem. Yet he was not discouraged. If forging were so easy that he could master it immediately, it would be far too unrealistic. He braced himself and continued concentrating on forming the spiritual flame.

“Puff! Bang! Puff! Bang!…”

For quite some time, the sounds of flames extinguishing and explosions echoed repeatedly, occasionally accompanied by Yang Yan’s screams of pain.

A faint blue flame finally rose from his palm, flickering weakly like a candle in the wind, on the verge of dying out.

“Maintain the flow of spiritual energy—yes, remember this feeling!” Elder Yang hurriedly reminded as he saw the spiritual flame take shape.

Yang Yan carefully controlled the amount of spiritual energy in his right palm, paying no attention to Elder Yang’s words. Slowly, he moved his palm over the furnace, then flipped it, gently releasing the grayish-blue flame like a delicate blue snowflake into the furnace.

Without the support of spiritual energy, the faint blue flame grew smaller, seemingly about to vanish.

Seeing this, Yang Yan hastened to circulate his internal energy, continuously feeding it through his right palm into the furnace.

“Puff...”

The sound of the flame dying out came again. Elder Yang smiled and said, “You injected too much energy into the furnace and blew the flame out. But this little fellow’s talent isn’t bad—he managed to form the spiritual flame in just a few hours.”

Elder Yang’s voice held a rare note of praise, yet Yang Yan did not slacken from the compliment. He practiced again and again without ceasing.

Time passed slowly. Through repeated failures, Yang Yan finally found the critical point to control the flame. Now he succeeded nearly half the time in forming the spiritual flame and placing it into the furnace without it going out.

The next step was smelting.

Smelting, plainly put, meant melting various materials and mixing them, then shaping them into magical treasures under the control of spiritual power. It sounded simple, but when Yang Yan tried it himself, he found it was anything but.

Because of his unique constitution, the “Taiyin Flame” he produced was too fierce. At the start of smelting, he failed to control the flame’s temperature. The moment he threw materials into the furnace, they were burned to nothing, leaving not even ashes. This was very frustrating.

These forging materials were all obtained through life-or-death battles with beasts. Though not extremely valuable, for someone like Yang Yan who was penniless, they were precious and not to be wasted. Destroying them so easily pained him deeply.

Fortunately, under Elder Yang’s guidance, Yang Yan gradually grasped the critical point of smelting. He finally managed to melt two materials together, a process far more arduous than the fluid, effortless smelting Elder Yang performed when controlling his body.

Next came mixing three molten substances. According to Elder Yang, this was the crucial moment deciding success or failure of the forging.

Though the fusion of the green-scaled snake’s scales and the red-feathered boar’s tusks was not smooth, after several attempts it was barely successful. Yang Yan’s control over soul power was still immature, so the fusion was uneven. Yet for a novice, this was a milestone achievement.

The most difficult step was the “soul forging” within the smelting.

As Elder Yang said, if a magical treasure is like a human, the other materials are the “flesh and blood,” and the energy contained within the inner core corresponds to the “soul.”

At this point, Yang Yan was extremely cautious. One mistake could turn the precious inner core, which he had painstakingly obtained, to ashes. Even if he succeeded by luck, the product wouldn’t be a true magical treasure but merely a hardened weapon, wasting all the materials.

But experience showed that excessive caution was not always helpful—Yang Yan was living proof.

At first, fearing the inner core’s energy wouldn’t integrate perfectly, he held his breath and slowed the process to carefully smelt.

However, the Taiyin Flame inside the furnace was too fierce. While he dragged his feet, the core’s energy had already mostly evaporated from the intense heat. Yang Yan reluctantly lowered the furnace temperature, but then the molten scales and tusks began to solidify slowly, making it even harder to fuse the core’s energy.

This frustration forced Yang Yan to ask Elder Yang for advice. His reply was somewhat helpless.

“Practice more.”

Just four words, yet they revealed the essence of forging.

No matter how brilliant or gifted one is, if they don’t work hard, expecting rewards without effort is naïve, and they will be lost among the crowd.

Yang Yan knew this truth well. Even when others once called him a “waste,” he never gave up. He had never slackened in cultivation. Now, knowing he possessed superior conditions and talent, he was even less likely to surrender.

With this resolve, the faint shadows of despair vanished. Yang Yan took a deep breath and resumed the tedious yet challenging journey of forging.

At last, after nearly four days of effort, he successfully forged his first magical treasure.

Looking at the oddly shaped dagger in his hand, his face was radiant with joy.

“Can this even be called a magical treasure? It may not even qualify as a mundane weapon…”

As Yang Yan reveled in his joy, Elder Yang’s slightly disparaging voice rang out.

Yang Yan focused on the dagger he had forged.

Rather than a dagger, it resembled a serrated blade—the edge was riddled with pits and unevenness, the entire piece somewhat crooked. The material was roughly smelted without uniform fusion, resulting in a strange coloration. Compared to the dagger Elder Yang had forged earlier, it was like night and day.

Most importantly, the soul forging step had clearly not satisfied Yang Yan. The faint, chaotic red lines appearing on the dagger’s surface indicated that he hadn’t properly integrated the inner core’s energy, thus failing to imbue it with spiritual essence. Elder Yang’s dagger had reached the level of a low-grade spiritual treasure precisely because that step was near perfect.

Yang Yan’s gaze darkened as he snapped out of the initial joy of his first success.

The main problem with his dagger lay in the “condensation” step—the final and crucial phase of forging.

A skilled forger possesses extremely precise soul control. This ensures materials fuse well and the magical treasure’s appearance is exquisite. Such treasures are not only powerful but also visually stunning.

“Looks like I’ll need to spend a lot more time practicing!” Yang Yan thought.

After a moment, he gathered his scattered discouragement. He was not anxious. Youth was his greatest asset. He believed that with diligent practice, he would surely achieve success in forging.

“Although your creation isn’t very impressive now, your talent for forging is among the best I’ve seen in many years. You managed to forge a magical treasure in under four days,” Elder Yang’s voice held a trace of emotion. He had existed for countless millennia and had encountered countless prodigies like stars in the sky. Receiving such praise from him clearly meant Yang Yan possessed considerable talent.

“Tomorrow is the day to officially enter the sect. The Qingxuan Sect—it truly is something to aspire to…”

Yang Yan glanced at the deep night sky and murmured softly.