Chapter Twenty-Three: Forging the Furnace of the Dantian

"Captain, my weapon is a bit damaged... could you take a look and see if it can be repaired? I'm worried I won't be able to hold out in the next fight." That night, the burly man who had led the battle held up a two-handed sword, its blade riddled with fine cracks. These were the result of fierce clashes of battle energy, the material unable to withstand the strain.

The bearded captain glanced at him and sized him up, his eyes gleaming with delight. "Heh! Blue Tiger, not bad. You've lingered at the peak of the sixth tier for quite some time, haven't you? Seems you've gained some insight recently; you might break through to the seventh tier at any moment. This weapon really isn't suited for you anymore. I'll forge you a new one later—only then can you truly unleash your strength."

The mercenary's face lit up, clearly pleased with the captain's craftsmanship. "Thank you, Captain! The brothers will get another chance to witness your skill."

The bearded captain smiled smugly, proud of his talent for weapon forging. Ever since his progress in cultivation slowed due to a serious injury, he'd turned to forging, taking advantage of his innate fire affinity. He'd stumbled along for over a decade and could now be considered a master.

By the lake, the group sat on the ground as the captain spread his hands, a small flame flickering in his palms. He was incinerating the cracked sword; soon, the blade melted into a mass of crimson molten metal, suspended above the fire.

The flame, now steady and intensely bright, was shaped by the captain's control. With a thought, he summoned chunks of metal from his spatial pouch, adding them to the molten pool. In the near-white fire, they slowly melted, radiating waves of heat that scorched those nearby.

The temperature of the metal continued to climb, approaching the whiteness of the flame—searingly hot. The floating molten mass began to bubble, sparks flying from its surface, either evaporating or condensing into blackened scum that dropped to the ground. These were impurities burned out from the metal.

As the impurities were expelled, the liquid changed shape continuously. Eventually, it only bubbled, with no more sparks erupting—the impurities were gone. The metal began to morph, writhing in midair, gradually forming the shape of a two-handed sword. The captain's flame weakened, leaving the blade just short of solidifying, yet malleable enough to be shaped by his spiritual power.

This was the moment of forming. Sweat beaded on the captain's nose as he used his spiritual power to consolidate the blade, sharpen the edge, and carve the patterns. Even for a seventh-tier martial king, this was a taxing feat, as they were not adept at spiritual power, unlike the magic spirits who trained it from childhood.

The surface of the blade shimmered as the liquid metal, guided by his spiritual energy, flowed swiftly, etching patterns into the hilt while the blade itself emerged smooth and flawless.

The captain exhaled gently. The sword was complete. The flame along the blade's center suddenly extinguished, and the edge solidified first, the sword's color darkening. With a flick of his hands, he tossed the dark red blade into the lake.

A hiss—the water boiled instantly, sending up a chain of bubbles. Blue Tiger, already waiting, leapt in after the sword with a splash, fully clothed, and soon emerged from the water clutching the blade.

The sword was blue-white, its blade shimmering with a blue-white edge, the hilt patterned and integrated. The color was subdued, perfect for a mercenary, unlikely to attract enemy attention with flashy silver.

Blue Tiger swung the sword a few times, channeling his battle energy. The blade emitted a gentle hum, releasing a surge of sword energy that exploded across the lake, sending up a cloud of mist. He examined the sword with delight, clearly satisfied with both its design and its compatibility with his battle energy.

"Thank you. With this weapon, I think it might accompany me for a lifetime." Blue Tiger flipped his hand, storing the sword in his spatial pouch.

"Heh, have confidence in yourself. This weapon is just a stepping stone—who knows, you might reach the eighth-tier emperor one day." The captain laughed heartily.

Blue Tiger shook his head, a smile curling at his lips. "When I reach emperor tier, you'd better not have already flown off to the immortal realm."

The captain laughed boisterously. "All right, brothers, let's set out." Amidst billowing dust, the caravan moved onward, beginning another day's trek.

On the road, Yun Yufeng was fascinated by the captain's fire technique, bombarding him with questions like a curious child, insistent on understanding every detail. The captain patiently answered each one.

"Uncle, how do you conjure that flame? I have a fire affinity too, but I've never felt any direct connection between my talent and actual fire."

The captain smiled. "Young man, you seem very interested in forging. Would you like me to teach you a few tricks?"

Yun Yufeng's eyes sparkled. Whether or not it was practical, being able to conjure fire was an impressive skill—he nodded eagerly. "Are you really willing to teach me, Uncle?"

"I'd be happy to. However, my Flame Manipulation Technique has its advantages and drawbacks. The good part is it refines your battle energy, making your power more concentrated. The downside is that the refining process consumes a lot of battle energy, which slows your progress in cultivation. You need to consider that carefully."

Yun Yufeng didn't hesitate. When something interested him, he was obsessively dedicated, willing to work twice or thrice as hard to achieve it.

"No need to think further. I'm clear about it. If my progress slows, I'll just spend twice or three times the effort training."

"Listen carefully. I'll explain the key points first, then give you the manual. To forge, you must condense the fire within your dantian, but to generate that fire, you need to practice a fire-type battle technique that controls flames. So, you must construct a furnace in your dantian, allowing fire energy to burn and produce dantian fire. Once your dantian furnace is built, it'll constantly refine your battle energy, burning away all impurities and leaving only the purest essence."

"Building the dantian furnace isn't dangerous. If you fail, you'll just revert to your previous state. But during the process, the pain is unbearable—it feels as if you're carving inside yourself with a knife. Once it's done, you can't rebuild it again, as repeated construction would exhaust your dantian and destabilize its structure."

"Uncle, if I fail, can I try again?"

"You can, since it's not set. But once it's formed, you can't modify it."

"Is there any requirement for its shape?"

"That's up to personal preference, but the simpler, the easier to build. The more complex, the higher the chance of failure." As he spoke, the captain pulled a battle technique manual bound in beast hide and a handwritten notebook of his forging experiences from his spatial pouch, tossing them to Yun Yufeng.

Yun Yufeng caught them and tucked them away, knowing he'd have to study them once they set up camp. Now, while traveling, it wasn't the right time to delve into the Flame Manipulation Technique, and the forging notes would have to wait until he'd learned the technique.

That night, while the others were still lively, Yun Yufeng studied the Flame Manipulation Technique and began planning the construction of his dantian furnace.

He circulated his battle energy as described in the manual, and soon his dantian underwent a dramatic transformation, accompanied by intense, knife-like pain in his abdomen.

Yun Yufeng's face turned pale. His body trembled violently, sweat streaming down like rain. He endured inhuman torment but persisted with determination. If he failed, he'd have to suffer this pain again, perhaps twice or three times—but he refused to give up on building the furnace.

What shape should he make it? Yun Yufeng pondered. A furnace, after all... The universe's celestial bodies are round, not oddly shaped. So, his furnace should be spherical, like his dantian. An eggshell is thin and easily crushed, but few can break one with a single hand—that's the stability of a sphere.

He decided to shape it like an ancient censer, with an open top and the four legs omitted, the base merging directly with the lower wall of the dantian—a simple, straightforward structure. At a glance, it looked much like his old dantian, except now it would blaze with fire.

With a shift of his will, strands of battle energy twisted into ropes, weaving and fusing at the base of his dantian. Soon, a censer-shaped furnace lacking four legs took form. With a soft command, "Seal," the furnace crashed down, merging with the lower wall of his dantian.

At that moment, the fire energy within his dantian no longer remained tranquil, but ignited fiercely on its surface, continually refining the fire energy within. Gradually, Yun Yufeng's battle energy would become more and more purified.

As Yun Yufeng slowly finished his cultivation, he flicked his finger, and a tiny flame danced on his fingertip. The captain and others gaped in astonishment—they knew all too well the agony of constructing a dantian furnace, enough to break a person. Most failed because they couldn't endure the pain.

Now, Yun Yufeng had succeeded on his first attempt. How could they not be surprised?

The captain gave a bitter smile. "Young people these days are terrifying—their talent is astounding."

Blue Tiger rubbed his head. "We're old now. Even if we're not, we'll eventually be buried in the sands of time."

"Let's sleep. Sleep." The group, as if by silent agreement, ignored Yun Yufeng, quietly pitched their tents, and crawled inside. Soon, snores filled the night, leaving Yun Yufeng alone, pale-faced, lying on his back, staring speechlessly at the starry sky. His body was so wracked with pain he could barely move.

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