Moonlight settled within his body, like a piece of red-hot iron plunged into water, being tempered again and again to achieve better results. Mere settling would leave the foundation unstable, and the potential for improvement would be very limited.

After refining his body once with the moonlight, he became somewhat distracted. Recently, Henry Stone had been living in the valley’s mining camp, and his gaze would occasionally fall upon the blacksmithing tools. A thought struck him: even though he was currently in a soul state, he could still practice blacksmithing.

He had discovered long ago that, in his soul state, he could “pick up” many things just as easily, and seemed tireless, with boundless strength.

Time was pressing. The sooner Henry Stone became proficient, the sooner he could teach the other villagers. With this in mind, he immediately began to practice. However, to avoid being seen, he chose a house to use as his blacksmithing workshop.

In his soul state, nothing within a twenty-meter radius could escape his perception—this sense, atop that mountain peak, could extend to all the surrounding peaks, but in his normal state, it was only twenty meters. Fortunately, this distance was enough for Henry Stone.

The few villagers remaining in the valley, after a long day’s work, slept soundly. Even if someone was awakened by the noise, Henry Stone would sense it the moment they turned over, and immediately stop moving. When the villagers heard nothing further, they assumed they’d imagined it, rolled over, and continued to sleep deeply.

During the day, even Henry Stone couldn’t practice nonstop; after a while, he’d have to rest. But at night, in his soul state, the hammer and bellows felt weightless in his hands, so he worked through the night without pause. The experience he gained in that one night surpassed what he’d usually learn in two days, and even some things he couldn’t figure out during the day became clear after repeated practice in his soul state.

The next day, although he still couldn’t forge the fine blade described on the jade token given to him by the Dao Lord, he was able to make a complete ring-pommel saber. Though it looked dull and unremarkable, when Henry Stone tested it, its sharpness was quite good—no worse than the knives bought from outside.

But Henry Stone was fixated on the fine blade described on the Dao Lord’s jade token. That kind of blade was only called a “fine blade” by the Dao Lord, not yet a treasured blade. Henry Stone felt he had to be able to forge such a blade.

For most people, being able to forge a blade like his current one would be enough, but not for Henry Stone.

Dissatisfied with his work, he didn’t tell anyone about it.

Henry Stone monopolized the stone-built house, practicing nonstop all morning, forging another ring-pommel saber. He swung it in his hand, then brought it down on the nearby anvil.

With a clang, the ring-pommel saber snapped in half, leaving another mark on the anvil. Henry Stone shook his head. According to the jade token’s description, the blade had to be able to cut through the anvil in one stroke to barely qualify.

Annoyed, he tossed the broken blade aside, and when he turned around, he saw Mr. Bolton peeking in from outside the door. He smiled kindly, “Big Brother Bolton, do you need something?”

Mr. Bolton really disliked being called “big brother” by Henry Stone; in fact, he wasn’t even old enough to be Henry Stone’s uncle. But if he became Henry Stone’s “big brother,” then his daughter would be a generation apart from Henry Stone.

The marriage arrangement between the two families had been put on hold due to the troubles in the village, and Henry Stone’s mother hadn’t mentioned it to him yet.

Usually, when they met, if Henry Stone called him Big Brother Bolton, Mr. Bolton would always correct him, “I’m of the same generation as your father; you’re of my nephew’s generation.” But today, Mr. Bolton didn’t argue about it. He smiled and walked in, “Henry, still working at the forge?”

Henry Stone was a bit frustrated. “Time is running out, but I still can’t make a suitable blade…” Mr. Bolton looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Henry Stone was puzzled, “If you have something to say, Big Brother Bolton, just say it.”

Mr. Bolton nodded, steeling himself, “This is for the good of the whole village, so don’t take it personally. Everyone’s been discussing—maybe we should hire a few skilled blacksmiths from outside…” After speaking, Mr. Bolton looked at Henry Stone nervously.

Henry Stone smiled, “Sure, why didn’t I think of that? Our family will contribute to the cost of hiring the blacksmiths as well.”

Chapter Five: Blade Forging (Part Two)

When Mr. Bolton discussed it with the others, everyone was worried that Henry Stone would feel embarrassed and oppose bringing in outsiders, so they asked the most “respected” Mr. Bolton in the village to bring it up. Unexpectedly, Henry Stone, a fifteen-year-old boy, didn’t have such complicated feelings. He simply thought that those outside blacksmiths made a living from their craft and would surely have more experience than his few days of study. If they were invited, he could observe and would surely learn a lot—maybe even be inspired enough to forge the “fine blade” described on the jade token himself.