Chương 41: The Black-Armored Heavy Cavalry — Envoys from Sword-casting Manor

Over the next seven days, Su Zhe settled into a strict routine. The moment he woke up, he went straight to the Craft Hall. By dusk, he returned to the First Courtyard of Craftsmanship. After dinner, he practiced the Spirit Serpent Sword. By the sixth day, he had forged over a dozen second-rank mortal weapons. After deducting material costs, he had earned another seven to eight hundred taels of silver. His total savings had now reached two thousand taels.

At the same time, the terrifying advantage of his Supreme Grade-A constitution became increasingly obvious. Especially since the Beast Aspect of the Spirit Serpent Sword shared striking similarities with the Flood Dragon Beast Aspect of the Flood Dragon Plunges into the Sea Art. By cross-referencing the two, and relying on his monstrous talent and comprehension, Su Zhe had finally pushed the Spirit Serpent Sword into the Minor Mastery Realm.

Even his Fiend Tiger Saber had begun touching upon true killing techniques. His progress in martial arts was explosive. And his growth in the Dao of Smithing was no less impressive. By his estimate, he now had a real chance of forging a third-rank mortal weapon. After all, the essence of the Thousand Tempering Method was force. And in raw strength, Su Zhe now far surpassed ordinary peak second-rank warriors by several times over. Naturally, his improvement was terrifyingly fast.

In the western wing of the First Craft Courtyard— Su Zhe gripped his forging hammer and focused his mind, connecting with the Creation Immortal Cauldron. With a thought, he removed the Star of the Flame Hammer and fused it into his forging hammer.

"Hiss—!" A sharp pain stabbed through his skull. It felt as if someone had driven a red-hot steel blade directly into his brain. His head felt like it was splitting apart. Then the world before his eyes changed. The next moment— He found himself standing within an ancient, boundless forge. Flames roared like dragons. Waves of heat rolled endlessly, as if they could burn heaven and earth to ash. Before a colossal anvil stood an old forging master. His hair was white, but his spirit blazed with vitality.

In his hands was a divine hammer unlike anything Su Zhe had ever seen." Three Spirits United Hammer!" The old master's eyes burned like torches as he stared at a crimson sword embryo. Then his hammer fell. BOOM! In an instant, sparks erupted like falling stars. Those sparks transformed into divine beasts— dragons, phoenixes, qilins— roaring across the heavens before plunging into the sword embryo. There, they transformed into profound and mysterious weapon patterns. Su Zhe's eyes widened in shock.

What kind of inscriptions are these? Compared to them, the patterns of ordinary mortal weapons are like fireflies before the blazing sun! The beauty of the smithing Dao was fully contained within them. And Su Zhe was utterly captivated.

"Clang!"" Bull Force!" Each strike of the old master's Three Spirits United Hammer contained endless power and divine intent. With one swing, an overwhelming force exploded outward— the force of the bull. It was like an ancient savage ox awakening, shaking the heavens. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Every strike seemed capable of shattering stars. Under that terrifying strength, the sword embryo rang violently as its shape began to form." Tiger Fiend!"

The old master's aura changed. Murderous energy flooded the forge. His eyes gleamed with savage light, like a primordial tiger descending into the world. His hammer became the tiger's killing intent. Each strike was violent, brutal, unstoppable. Where the hammer fell, wind and thunder surged. The sword embryo radiated dazzling light, as though struggling against that destructive force, while absorbing a sliver of its killing intent." Spirit Serpent!"

Then the old master's body shifted like a serpent—fluid, elusive, unpredictable. His hammer grew light and precise. This was the serpent's finesse. Every strike seemed soft, but each landed with absolute precision, like a serpent flicking its tongue, carving delicate and mysterious patterns into the blade. Bull's strength. Tiger's ferocity. Serpent's finesse. The three merged into one. The sword embryo burst with blinding light, shooting straight into the heavens. The skies changed color. Stormclouds gathered.

Thunder roared. It was as if heaven itself celebrated the birth of an unrivaled divine weapon. Then— the memory shattered.

"Three Spirits United Hammer…" Su Zhe's breathing grew ragged, his eyes burning with excitement.

"This hammer art is terrifying!"

"It fuses three martial arts into one… its power even surpasses a treasure art like Flood Dragon Plunges into the Sea!"

"What a heaven-defying fortune!" Only now did he understand. Those three martial arts had always been parts of a whole. When united, they became the Three Spirits United Hammer — a supreme hammer technique whose power far exceeded ordinary treasure arts. Su Zhe found an abandoned lot belonging to the Blacksmith Gang and began practicing. Hammer in hand, he moved.

"Bull's strength. Tiger's fiend. Serpent's spirit… Three hammer forms, yet boundless mysteries." He circulated his blood and qi. Reciting the breathing formula silently— Qi sank into the Gate of Life. It rose through the Governing Meridian from the base of the spine, refining essence into energy and nourishing the mind. When he exhaled, his hands thrust forward. With each rise and fall, his blood and qi completed a full circuit through the Ren and Du meridians, achieving the harmony of water and fire.

Then— Su Zhe roared. It was like thunder exploding across the earth. The muscles in his arms swelled instantly, veins bulging like dragons. Pure brute force erupted without restraint. Every hammer strike tore through the air with explosive force. The very atmosphere trembled. The ground shattered beneath him, stones flying as deep craters formed. At times his hammer fell like a torrential storm. At others, it darted like a serpent striking from the shadows. One hour later— Su Zhe's nostrils trembled.

Two streams of milky-white breath, almost tangible, escaped from them. Peak Second Rank. Only one step remained before he entered the Third Rank.

"The Three Spirits United Hammer benefits all three martial arts…"

"My Fiend Tiger Saber's killing move has improved."

"The Spirit Serpent Sword has reached Intermediate Mastery."

"But the most important part…" His eyes gleamed.

"This hammer art can merge with the Thousand Tempering Method."

"It is a supreme forging technique."

"With this…"

"I now have nearly absolute confidence in forging a third-rank mortal weapon." His gaze blazed in the darkness like a dragon's eyes, looking down upon the world. The next day— the seventh day since his meeting with the Three Chiefs— the entire Blacksmith Gang was decorated with lanterns and banners. Countless disciples stood at the gates, craning their necks in anticipation.

"So today is the day Sword-casting Manor sends someone?"

"Sword-casting Manor is the number one sect in Tang Prefecture… getting to witness them today is worth the wait." The disciples whispered excitedly. At the front stood the Three Chiefs, their expressions grave. Yu Yi stood behind Wang Shan, eyes sharp and determined. Today's visitors from Sword-casting Manor were here to verify the candidate selected by the Blacksmith Gang. In truth, it was mostly a formality.

In the past, some subordinate factions had tried to deceive Sword-casting Manor—sending mediocre disciples with poor talent while passing them off as geniuses. Sword-casting Manor recruited talent from all eighteen counties under Tang Prefecture. Its standards were brutally strict. And once candidates arrived, they would face another round of competition. Frauds would inevitably be exposed. That was why, after each county finalized its candidate, Sword-casting Manor sent disciples to verify them beforehand.

It was a matter of preserving the manor's reputation. Time passed. The Blacksmith Gang disciples grew restless. Yet even the Three Chiefs—overlords of Lu County—showed not the slightest impatience. They waited in silence. Seeing this, the disciples naturally didn't dare complain. Hours passed. No one dared move. Many began to truly understand— Sword-casting Manor's prestige was no empty legend. To make even Lu County's rulers endure such disrespect without complaint… that kind of authority was terrifying.

By dusk— the setting sun bled across the horizon, staining the sky crimson. Then— Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. A deep, rhythmic sound echoed in the distance.

"Thunder?" Someone looked up in confusion. But the sky was clear—only blood-red clouds burned across it. No rain. No storm. Then where was the sound coming from? Thud. Thud. Thud. Closer. Louder. Suddenly— the ground at the Blacksmith Gang's gate began to shake. Dust leapt from the stone road. Pebbles bounced violently. The sound grew deafening— like ten thousand troops charging at once.

"Look!"

"It's there!"

"So many… so many black-armored riders!"

"And every one of them… their blood and qi are like dragons! They're all above the Third Rank!" A disciple pointed toward the end of the street, his face deathly pale, voice trembling. At the far end— over a hundred riders surged forward like a black tide. In an instant, they flooded the entire street. Each rider wore heavy black armor. The warhorses beneath them had crimson eyes and monstrous auras—clearly demon beasts. Their nostrils sprayed hot white mist. The riders' faces were expressionless.

Their eyes were cold, cruel. Murderous intent radiated from them like demons climbing out of hell itself.

"Hrrr—!" In mere moments, the hundred black riders arrived before the Blacksmith Gang. They halted in perfect formation. The shrill cries of their warhorses pierced the sky. No one spoke. They simply stood there. But the suffocating pressure they gave off felt like mountains pressing down on everyone present. The entire scene fell into dead silence. And yet— it felt as though a bloody storm could erupt at any second. Everyone's scalp tingled. Even without words, everyone understood.

Even the weakest among these black-armored riders… was above the Third Rank. Fourth Rank warriors. A hundred of them. The young disciples of the Blacksmith Gang trembled uncontrollably, terror filling their eyes. So this…... was the power of Sword-casting Manor?