Boom—
The hammer rose and fell again.
The Ancestral Anvil remained unmoved, yet emitted a faint, delighted hum.
Eight strikes per breath... nine strikes per breath...
This time, Li Mo did not start the Hundred Refinements from the sixth strike, as his body had reached its limit after repeatedly using the Heaven-Earth Manifestation technique.
After a full sixty-four strikes,
he felt as if every pore in his body had opened. The immense force in his thick right arm surged like a roaring tide, and even his sweat carried a hint of crimson.
As a profound weapon, the Star Mallet's power was now unleashed to its fullest—strength and scorching heat erupting simultaneously.
Boom!
Flames shot skyward like dazzling fireworks, and the weapon blank was refined to perfection in every inch, resembling a newborn sun atop the anvil.
And it wasn’t just the weapon he had forged.
He himself was the same.
"Exhale... inhale..."
Li Mo stood still, listening to the resonant hum of the Star Mallet and the Ancestral Anvil. It felt as though he could hear far more than before.
Not just the hammer and anvil.
But also the countless weapons born upon them—each exuding their own sharp, murderous aura, now singing to him in joy!
He had originally thought it would take at least five more days.
But under the amplification of Heaven-Earth Manifestation, the might of Divine Treasure Hundred Refinements had surpassed all imagination!
Extreme Weapon Tempered Body—perfected!
"This is the feeling of becoming a named weapon..."
Before Li Mo could fully savor the changes in his body, he suddenly realized he could no longer feel the surrounding temperature.
In fact, it even felt a little cool.
Hmm...
He was standing right next to a fire vein. If even this felt cool, then just how scorching was he right now?
Elder Hanhe and Elder Zeng were about to check on him when they saw Li Mo suddenly bolt.
"Hey, kid, where are you going?"
"To the Frost Pool for quenching!"
Elder Hanhe glanced at the weapon still on the anvil and shouted, "You’re not even taking your weapon—what are you quenching?"
"Oh, right, forgot."
So Li Mo dashed back, grabbed the freshly forged, still-glowing weapon with his bare hand, and then—
Plop!
He plunged headfirst into the bottomless Frost Pool, sending massive plumes of steam billowing up.
"......"
"......"
Elder Hanhe and Elder Zeng exchanged glances, falling into deep contemplation.
So, if they weren’t mistaken, this kid had just grabbed a red-hot weapon barehanded, right?
Well then, turns out when he said "quenching," he meant quenching himself!
The two old men stood in silence for a long while, utterly speechless.
"Gurgle..."
"Ah, that’s better."
Li Mo soaked in the Frost Pool as his body temperature finally dropped.
Every meridian and acupoint in his body seemed to breathe on its own, his muscles and bones refined down to the most minute detail.
"Crack..."
He casually picked up a piece of Frost Silver ore embedded in the pool wall, its surface faintly lined with icy patterns.
With a single squeeze, it shattered instantly!
"With just my physical body now, even if someone at my level attacked me head-on, they wouldn’t be able to break my defense."
He focused further and realized his body wasn’t just tough—
but the moment a thought formed, his flesh would react instantly.
Meaning, he’d no longer face situations like:
Eyes: "I see it."
Brain: "I get it."
Hands: "Screw you..."
"Now, if I use Heaven-Earth Manifestation again, it shouldn’t be limited to just one body part..."
"Too bad I can’t test it today."
Li Mo gripped the newly forged sword and began swimming back up.
Meanwhile, Elder Hanhe and Elder Zeng were still on the shore, staring at each other in bewilderment. Both were bursting with questions, but the kid hadn’t resurfaced yet.
I mean—
What kind of blacksmith forges a weapon and ends up refining himself along with it?
Only now did they truly understand Li Mo’s words from before: "Refining yourself like a pill."
So you really were the pill all along?!
Gurgle—
The Frost Pool churned as Li Mo burst out, wreathed in rolling mist, yet not a single drop of water clung to him.
The moment he emerged, he found the two elders staring at him intently.
"Elders, the sword."
Elder Zeng took it and gave it a brief inspection before nodding in approval.
Elder Hanhe didn’t even need to touch it—the gleam alone told him enough.
"Fine work. You’ve pushed these materials to their absolute limit. A top-grade weapon indeed. At your age, you’re already qualified to visit the Sword Furnace for enlightenment."
"You could even attempt forging a named weapon now."
"But enough about the sword. Right now..."
"Let’s take a look at you!"
"???"
Seeing the two old men’s eager, fiery gazes, Young Li instinctively leaned back.
But he understood—these two lifelong craftsmen were simply fascinated, like biologists stumbling upon a rare, thought-to-be-extinct creature.
Among all martial disciplines, body tempering was the simplest—and also the hardest.
Without seeing it firsthand, no one would believe someone his age could achieve a physique rivaling a named weapon.
"Li Mo, this... is this natural?"
Alright, even Elder Hanhe, witnessing it firsthand, found it hard to believe. "You didn’t pull some reckless shortcut like Elder Zeng’s methods, did you? Some growth-forcing trick?"
Elder Zeng snorted. "You old fool, don’t slander me! My ways combine effort and wisdom. A blacksmith who doesn’t use his brain will never become a grandmaster."
"You—!"
"What about it?!"
As the two hot-tempered elders teetered on the brink of another clash, Li Mo smoothly interjected:
"Growth-forcing tricks? Are there shortcuts to tempering the body?"
"The world never lacks those who seek cunning shortcuts, racking their brains for twisted methods."
Elder Hanhe coughed lightly, though it was unclear whom he was subtly targeting.
Before Elder Zeng could retort, he continued:
"You’ve heard of the Sword Furnace’s Forging Assembly, right?"
"Vaguely."
Li Mo had heard others in the forging hall mention it.
The Sword Furnace had existed since the era of Great Shang. Many weapons on the Divine Arms Ranking originated from it, and it was especially renowned for swordcraft.
After merging with the Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor, it only grew stronger. Every year, the Forging Assembly drew countless master smiths, all eager to compete.
It was essentially the grand stage for blacksmiths—if you had dreams, you came.
"For example, take the year this old man and Hanhe here participated."
"Some smiths, desperate to win, made deals with the Blood Refining Hall of the Demon Summoning Sect, buying their forbidden drugs."
"A single injection before the contest could boost their physical strength by leaps and bounds."
Li Mo: "?"
Performance enhancers, huh?
Wait—Blood Refining Hall?
Wasn’t the Demon Summoning Sect supposed to only have the Martial Refining Hall? What abomination had this hall turned into now?
Elder Hanhe sighed. "Was that drug even meant for humans? It wasn’t a contest of physique—it was a contest of who could endure the most poison!"

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

iemie, male, Race: Moon. Hobby: Collecting anomalies. At first, he thought he possessed two systems: the Crimson Rainbow Moon and the Clear Cold Frost Moon. One day, he discovered that he himself could also become a system for others, holding the chessboard of fate. The Eighth Epoch, also known as the Eternal Moon Epoch. Humans, witches, elves, bloodline descendants, specters, demons, and spirits together compose a new history. Walking the path on behalf of the moon, before he knew it, Chen Miemie's footsteps were followed by all manner of strange and wondrous anomalies. As time passed, many titles circulated about him—The King in Yellow, Lord of Anomalies, Heart of the Eternal Moon, and more. "Me? I'm just a traveler who enjoys collecting interesting creatures," Chen Miemie said.