The central Merit Hall of the Black Tortoise Sect was a sprawling, multi-tiered pavilion buzzing with the chaotic energy of thousands of disciples. Cultivators bargained over mission rewards, appraised beast cores, and argued with the stern-faced deacons behind the heavy stone counters.
When Fang Lin stepped through the bronze doors, the ambient noise in his immediate vicinity dropped.
He didn't announce himself, nor did he flare his newly condensed Fire Core aura. He walked with the heavy, measured steps of a man accustomed to the forge. Yet, as he moved deeper into the hall, the crowd naturally parted.
"That's him," an outer disciple whispered, stepping back respectfully. "The Anvil."
"Core Smith Mu," an inner disciple corrected, offering a slight bow as Fang Lin walked past.
Fang Lin returned the gestures with polite, brief nods. He maintained a grounded, humble demeanor. In the eyes of the sect, Mu Tie was a self-made brute who had climbed from the soot of the basic smelting halls to become the sole striker of Elder Huo and a Rank 2 Core Smith of the Ironblood Faction.
But his prestige had grown beyond simple respect. In recent weeks, elders had begun offering gifts before requesting favors. Peak Lords actively shielded him during sect meetings due to his strategic value, sparking intense jealousy among the traditional combat geniuses who resented a blacksmith wielding such political influence. Disciples now fiercely competed to enter the Heavenly Forge Division just to be near his faction. He was a living legend.
He approached the highest-tier counter reserved for Core Formation experts and elite disciples. The deacon, a stern man who usually treated everyone with equal disdain, immediately stood up and offered a warm smile.
"Senior Brother Mu," the deacon greeted. "How can the Merit Hall serve you today?"
Fang Lin handed over his dark-red identity token. "I need to check my balance, Deacon. And make a few bulk purchases."
The deacon slotted the token into the array formation on the desk. The jade screen flickered.
Twelve thousand Merit Points.
It was a staggering fortune. Most ordinary inner disciples saved for years just to accumulate a thousand points. Fang Lin had amassed this wealth in a matter of months, charging exorbitant rates for flawless, heavy-class Core Formation armaments.
"Your balance is twelve thousand points, Senior Brother," the deacon confirmed. "What materials do you require?"
"I need three Abyssal-Vein Black Lotus roots," Fang Lin listed calmly. "Ten pounds of compressed Ashen-Wood charcoal, a vial of Earth-Core Magma, and five Old Vitality Leaves."
The deacon blinked in surprise. "Those are highly volatile materials, Senior Brother. The Abyssal-Vein roots in particular are heavily aligned with the dark attribute. Combining them with Earth-Core Magma..."
"It's for a specialized commission," Fang Lin lied smoothly. "A client wants a heavy mace that inflicts rotting-burn damage. The array carvers are struggling with the integration, so I told them I'd alloy the properties directly into the metal."
The deacon nodded in immediate understanding. When a Rank 2 Core Smith requested bizarre materials, the sect assumed they were experimenting with new forging techniques.
"Right away," the deacon said, rushing to the back vaults.
After securing the materials in his spatial ring, Fang Lin did not return to his peak immediately. Instead, he made his way to the towering structure of the sect's Scripture Pavilion.
In the past, he had relied on his outer sect status to browse the lowest floors. Today, he walked past the crowded first and second floors, ascending directly to the heavily guarded Floor 3—a domain restricted to core disciples and elders.
The guards recognized him instantly, stepping aside without asking for identification.
For the first time since joining the sect, Fang Lin freely spent his own Merit Points in the Pavilion. He bypassed the combat arts, heading straight for the restricted crafting archives. There, he spent a staggering three thousand points to purchase copies of high-grade forging methods, specifically focusing on the theoretical manipulation and array-carving required for Spirit Manifestation Grade artifacts. If he was going to explore a Master Blacksmith's ruin, he needed to understand the peak of what the Demon Immortal Continent considered possible.
Only after his spatial ring was loaded with jade slips did he finally return to his warded courtyard on Peak 74. He sat in the center of the stone floor, surrounded by his newly purchased materials.
He didn't bother with a furnace. He crushed the Abyssal-Vein Black Lotus roots in his bare hands, letting the dark, corrosive sap coat his palms. He chewed the five Old Vitality Leaves, their immense lifeforce exploding in his mouth, before swallowing the Earth-Core Magma directly.
His Asura flesh, already tempered to a terrifying degree, devoured the vitality leaves. His muscles spasmed and hardened as his physical body broke through to Greater Mastery very easily, the impossibly dense flesh easily withstanding the violent heat of the magma scorching down his throat.
Inside his Dantian, the Four-Pointed Astral Star—the three-dimensional pyramid formed by his four rotating cores—began to turn.
The Dark Flame Core, burning with an absolute, silent dark-red intensity, devoured the extreme thermal energy and the dark-attribute sap simultaneously. As the violent heat of the magma threatened to vaporize his meridians, his Frost Core pulsed, acting as the perfect thermal regulator.
The energy did not rush through his body like a river. It spiraled flawlessly through the double-helix framework of his Four-Pillared Cosmic Cycle. Fang Lin guided the refined, unified essence, using it to compress and solidify the walls of his newly formed Dark Flame core vein. The Dark-Flame core breakthrough stabilized further, the dark-red core becoming dense, smooth, and absolute.
Simultaneously, the immensely pure dark-attribute essence from the three Abyssal-Vein Black Lotus roots was diverted to his violet-black Death Core.
Ever since stepping into the Core Formation realm roughly three years ago, the Death Core's gravitational pull had drastically accelerated his passive accumulation of Shadow Dewdrops, pulling in ten drops a day from ambient energy alone. Over the past three years, he had passively condensed over eleven thousand new drops without even trying.
But active devouring was far faster. As the refined sap flooded his Death Core, an explosion of pure darkness essence washed over his Spiritual Sea. Ten thousand drops condensed in an instant. Then twenty thousand. Then thirty thousand.
The three rare roots instantly condensed into three entire Midnight Lotuses.
Adding the two he had formed during his time in the Legacy Mansion and the eleven thousand drops passively accumulated, Fang Lin now possessed a staggering six Midnight Lotuses and twelve Dark Buds floating silently within his reservoir. He was steadily marching toward the one million drops required for the Twilight Lotus.
His foundation was completely stable.
The next morning, Fang Lin ascended Ember Peak. The rhythmic, deafening crash of a hammer striking metal echoed across the mountain long before he reached the courtyard.
Elder Huo was completely shirtless, his scarred back glistening with sweat as he beat a chunk of glowing blue steel into submission.
"Master," Fang Lin said, stepping into the courtyard.
Elder Huo brought his hammer down one last time before turning around. His hawk-like eyes locked onto Fang Lin. Despite Fang Lin's disguise, Elder Huo's senses as a Manifestation-realm grandmaster were sharp.
"You broke through," Elder Huo rumbled, tossing his hammer onto the anvil. He walked over, inspecting Fang Lin closely. "A Fire Core. And your terrifying physical vessel is flawlessly containing the heat without damaging your meridians."
Elder Huo let out a booming laugh. "Good! I told those array-carving fools that my apprentice wouldn't be stuck in the Foundation Establishment realm forever, when they questioned about your weak cultivation realm. With Core Formation Qi fueling your strikes, we can finally start working on Peak Manifestation artifacts."
"About that, Master," Fang Lin said respectfully. "I will be leaving the sect for a short time. An expedition to the Northeastern Highlands."
Elder Huo stopped laughing. His heavy brows furrowed.
"The Highlands," Elder Huo muttered. "Harsh territory. Who are you going with?"
"Lin Wan," Fang Lin replied.
Elder Huo grunted. With a casual wave of his massive hand, a thick, hexagonal jade talisman carved with jagged runes materialized directly from his spatial ring. He tossed it to Fang Lin.
"This is a Domain Forging grade talisman," Elder Huo said, his voice returning to its gruff tone. "If you get caught in a trap, crush it. It will project a physical shield that will help you ward off 3 attacks from early-Domain Forging grade cultivators."
Fang Lin looked at the heavy talisman, touched by the old man's pragmatism.
"I won't let it go to waste, Master," Fang Lin said.
"You better not," Elder Huo replied, turning back to his anvil. "If you die in the Highlands, I'll have to train a new apprentice. And I don't have the patience for it. Go prepare."
Fang Lin bowed deeply, then turned and walked down Ember Peak.
His preparations were complete. It was time to head north.
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