"Rest assured, Young Marquis, this old Huo is skilled in all eighteen weapons. I’ll forge you a spear that fits your hand perfectly."
Huo Bingzi was a square-faced man who wore straw sandals. In his early years, he had received kindness from the Southern Suppressing King.
Thus, when Zhong Zhenyue came to visit, Huo Bingzi didn’t even wait for him to speak before agreeing to the request.
"Uncle Huo, I don’t want a spear."
Zhong Zhenyue clasped his hands and said earnestly, "I want a hammer."
His sworn brother, Li Mo, had turned the tide in the southern borderlands and achieved great merit, yet the imperial court had yet to acknowledge it. Zhong Zhenyue had long harbored resentment over this.
That was until his father took him to court once.
The high-ranking officials, draped in crimson and purple robes, all had two lips and one tongue—twisting and turning until the southern border conflict was downplayed, ultimately becoming nothing more than "His Majesty’s boundless virtue."
The emperor needed no reward for himself, and so the matter was left unresolved.
Now, Li Mo might already have arrived in the imperial capital.
Zhong Zhenyue hoped he would claim the top spot in the upcoming Hidden Dragon Ranking tournament, standing radiant before all those high-ranking officials, forcing them to open their eyes and take notice.
Huo Bingzi was stunned. "A hammer?? What do you need that for?"
"It’s for a friend of mine."
"What Hidden Dragon prodigy would use a hammer—"
Then, as if suddenly remembering, he recalled that someone’s nickname these days was "Little Tyrant of the Divine Hammer."
"Well, if you’ve made up your mind, I can only forge one weapon for you. You’ll have to figure out your own arms afterward."
"I’ve made my decision."
Zhong Zhenyue nodded without hesitation.
At that moment, the inner courtyard of the sword forge swung open, and flames poured out like flowing lava.
Huo Bingzi froze, then immediately turned and bowed toward the fiery glow.
"Master… you’ve emerged from seclusion?"
"Uncle Huo’s master?"
Zhong Zhenyue followed his gaze and saw a withered old figure at the far end of his vision. The man was missing two fingers on his left hand, and his face was as shriveled as dried orange peel.
One of the Four Divine Artificers of the Sword Forge—Du Wufeng.
Ever since forging that Heaven-Sent Divine Sword, whether due to enlightenment or hitting a bottleneck, he had extinguished his furnace, sealed his hammer, and secluded himself until now.
He was also a peak expert of the Law Body realm, just a step away from the seventh realm.
"Could it be that you’ve…"
"Hah, what are you thinking? The Heavenly Craftsman realm isn’t so easily attained…"
Du Wufeng shook his head, then turned his gaze to Zhong Zhenyue. "And who’s this little one? Fine bones—he’d make a fine warrior on the battlefield. Here to learn blacksmithing?"
Huo Bingzi explained, "This is the Southern Suppressing King’s only son. With the Hidden Dragon Ranking tournament approaching, he asked me to forge a hammer for his friend."
"A hammer? Tsk tsk… There are still youngsters who use those?"
A glimmer of light flashed in Du Wufeng’s murky old eyes.
Blacksmiths cultivated both craftsmanship and martial arts, and hammers were the weapon of choice for many artisans.
Unfortunately, forging iron and fighting were two different things. An apprentice would spend seven or eight years learning the craft—long before they could even dream of the Hidden Dragon Ranking, they’d already be past the age limit.
"There is, Elder. My sworn brother Li Mo is called the Little Tyrant of the Divine Hammer. He’s currently ranked fourth on the Hidden Dragon Ranking, and in the southern borderlands, he—"
Before Zhong Zhenyue could finish, an apprentice rushed in and bowed.
"Grandmaster, His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived and awaits you in the sword forge."
"Then I shall go."
Du Wufeng’s attention shifted, and he strode out of the courtyard with his hands behind his back.
Evidently, the Crown Prince interested him more.
Zhong Zhenyue’s heart sank.
Could it be… Jiang Yu was here to commission a divine artificer to forge a mystic weapon?
Exchanging a glance with Huo Bingzi, he clasped his hands and said,
"Uncle Huo, I’m curious about the sword forge’s weapon-crafting techniques. Could you show me around?"
"Of course."
Huo Bingzi seemed to understand his unspoken thoughts.
Meanwhile, at the entrance of the sword forge, several figures stepped into a world of flames and steel.
At the forefront was a youth on the cusp of manhood, dressed in fire-resistant Pure Yang robes, his eyes bright and sharp, his handsome features bearing just enough edge to make him look every bit the righteous gentleman.
Li Mo felt right at home in the sword forge.
Even if his scholarly aura made him seem out of place.
But he wasn’t the only one who stood out.
Ying Bing, aloof and detached, was like a painting from another world entirely.
Jiang Chulong cautiously looked around. Back at the Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor, she had spent most of her time in the Sword Graveyard—this was her first visit to the forge.
"You’re really entering the weapon-forging competition?"
Xie Xuan still couldn’t believe it.
He had no issue with Li Mo’s hammer skills, but being a blacksmith wasn’t just about swinging a hammer well.
Li Mo was only seventeen.
Between honing his martial arts, how much time could he have spent mastering craftsmanship?
Most apprentices in the sword forge were in their twenties—some even in their thirties.
"Of course. I’d only trust a weapon I forged myself."
Li Mo nodded as he surveyed the surroundings.
Xie Xuan pressed, "But to compete, you need to pass a physique test, and during forging, you must bring two assistants."
"There’s such a rule?"
"Indeed. One assistant handles quenching, the other sorts materials. Otherwise, you can’t compete."
"Then I’m set."
Li Mo sighed in relief.
"Who?"
Just as Xie Xuan was puzzled, Li Mo pointed at Ying Bing and Jiang Chulong.
Ying Bing: "…"
Jiang Chulong: "!"
Xie Xuan: "???"
The second-ranked prodigy on the Hidden Dragon Ranking stared wide-eyed, his expression screaming:
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
Li Mo explained, "Quenching requires precise control of heat, right?"
"Right." Xie Xuan saw no issue there.
"Today, this ice block helped me finish that plate of stir-fried shredded potatoes with vinegar…"
"Are you sure they were potatoes?"
"Ahem… What they were isn’t important. What matters is the heat control! More than qualified for quenching!"
"?"
Li Mo gave a thumbs-up, as if this made perfect sense.
"And sorting materials? You’re putting this little girl on the job? What does she know?" Xie Xuan pointed at the timid Princess Jiang.
Li Mo’s eyes brimmed with trust. "She’s an expert at picking through trash!"
"Yes, I love picking through trash the most!" Jiang Chulong nodded earnestly. Big Brother Li was always right.
"???"
Xie Xuan had a bellyful of complaints but no way to voice them.
Was this right? Was this reasonable?
Little Li didn’t care about reason.
Material-sorting assistant—check!
"Fine, then come with me to submit the Mystic Iron Token."
Xie Xuan shook his head.
He’d just have to pick out a few more suitable famed weapons for Li Mo and the others later.
With that thought, he stepped into the forge’s main hall—only to find it eerily quiet.
This wasn’t right.
Normally, even on slow days, it wouldn’t be this empty, let alone with the competition approaching.
"Li… Brother Li?"
Zhong Zhenyue had been selecting hammer designs when he suddenly saw Li Mo standing before him.
"Old Zhong, long time no see. Here to commission a weapon?"
Li Mo could tell—the middle-aged man beside Zhong Zhenyue had furnace heat laced in his breath. Clearly, a master craftsman.
"Exactly. Brother Li, are you also…"
"Not quite. I’m here to compete."
"Eh??"

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.”

or! A blessing for those who struggle with love, a guidebook for dating novices. Quickly match with your dream goddess! Complete walkthroughs earn rewards, and perfect walkthroughs unlock limited achievements!】 Shen Yi, an ordinary office worker, accidentally downloads a mini-game called Dating Simulator. The mini-game is simple: randomly search for dating targets, simulate dates, and receive rewards upon successful confession. Rewards include but are not limited to money, attributes, and skills. The higher the evaluation, the better the rewards, with perfect ratings unlocking mysterious achievements. Shen Yi plans to use this mysterious mini-game to continuously pursue targets and improve himself, making his life better and better. ...... However, after several successful walkthroughs, Shen Yi suddenly notices something strange - the targets he previously simulated dating seem to be searching for him in real life?

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?"

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!