Chapter 230: Damian Finally Gets Humbled
The blazing hammer floated above the molten ground, its flames roaring like a furnace that had swallowed a mountain.
Damian stood in front of it, blood still staining his robe, but his eyes were bright.
The hammer spirit laughed in a rough, thunderous voice. "Good. Since you want my test, listen carefully."
Damian wiped sweat from his face. "I’m listening."
The hammer’s flames suddenly gathered inward, turning from wild fire into a deep crimson glow. "My test is quite simple. Forge a weapon."
Damian raised his brow. "That’s it?"
The hammer spirit snorted. "With my technique."
Before Damian could answer, the hammer trembled once.
BOOM!
A stream of blazing forging knowledge rushed into Damian’s mind like molten iron.
His body stiffened as countless images appeared inside his head.
It was basically the technique the hammer had mentioned. "Damn... this forging technique is far better than I expected."
It was not some ordinary blacksmithing method.
Each hammer strike was designed to force metal, Qi, and intent to fuse together, as if beating a weapon’s future soul directly into its body.
Even Damian’s Noble Grade blacksmithing talent felt like it had been struck awake.
The hammer spirit laughed proudly. "Surprised?"
Damian nodded honestly. "Yeah. This technique is damn good."
The hammer’s flames shook with amusement. "Good? Hahaha! Boy, that is only the simplified version."
Damian froze. "Simplified?"
"Of course." The hammer spirit’s voice became heavier. "You are too weak to understand the real one. If I gave it to you now, your soul might crack before you even raised a hammer."
Damian’s mouth twitched. "You King Grade weapons really know how to hurt people."
"This is not an insult. It is truth."
"Still hurts."
The pipa spirit floated quietly to the side and said coldly, "At least it is not wrong."
Damian glanced at her. "Why are you joining in?"
"Because it is enjoyable."
Damian sighed. "Cruel women everywhere."
The hammer spirit ignored their argument.
A burning forge appeared from the flames.
A black anvil rose from the ground.
Beside it, a piece of dark red ore floated in the air, releasing a heavy fire-metal aura.
The hammer spirit spoke again, its tone becoming serious. "Use the technique I gave you and forget what you want."
Its flames burned brighter. "I only want to see if your hands have what it takes."
Damian looked at the forge.
Despite his injured body, he grinned. "Fine."
He stepped toward the anvil and picked up the dark red ore. "If I’m doing this... I’m going all in."
---
Damian placed the dark red ore on the black anvil.
The moment it touched the surface, the ore released a deep burning hum.
HUMM...
Heat rushed into Damian’s face, causing his wounds to throb again, but he ignored it.
The crude forging hammer floated into his hand, heavy enough that even his arm sank slightly.
Damian clicked his tongue. "Damn. Even the test hammer is this heavy?"
The hammer spirit laughed. "If you cannot even lift that, you are not worthy of touching me."
Damian gritted his teeth and raised the forging hammer.
The simplified forging technique moved inside his mind, guiding his breath, Qi, rhythm, and intent.
Damian followed the feeling and struck down.
BANG!
Sparks exploded.
The dark red ore trembled.
Damian’s arm went numb, but his eyes brightened. "Oh? Not bad."
He struck again.
BANG!
Then again.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Every strike carried Chaos Qi and faint flame power.
The ore slowly softened, spreading across the anvil like stubborn molten metal.
Damian’s expression became focused.
For once, he did not flirt, joke, or say something shameless.
He only followed the movement engraved into his body.
The pipa spirit watched quietly from the side.
The hammer spirit also became silent.
Damian’s hammering was rough.
Very rough.
His rhythm was unstable, his control was messy, and sometimes his Qi struck too hard or too soft.
However, each strike still carried the core of the technique.
Basically, it was ugly.
But it worked.
A long while later, Damian finally stopped.
His breathing was heavy, his robe was soaked with sweat and blood, and his hand was trembling.
On the anvil lay a weapon.
It was a crude knife.
A very crude knife.
If an ordinary person saw it, they would probably say it looked like an ugly piece of scrap metal with a sharp edge.
Damian, however, smiled upon seeing it.
The pipa spirit stared at the knife.
The hammer spirit stared even longer.
Silence filled the burning space.
Damian coughed lightly. "Well... it’s my first time, so it’s a bit crude. At least it can cut meat. Probably."
The pipa spirit’s mouth twitched. "That is your standard?"
The hammer spirit suddenly laughed.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Its laughter shook the molten ground.
Damian frowned. "What? Are you mocking me?"
The hammer spirit said, "No."
Its voice became rough but approving. "You really do have talent. You were actually able to use my technique, even in that wounded state."
Damian’s eyes brightened. "So I passed?"
The hammer spirit continued, "Your blacksmithing talent should be at least Noble Grade, right?"
Damian lifted his chin slightly.
But before he could feel proud, the hammer spirit spoke again. "Although it is somewhat good, your comprehension is really shit."
Damian froze. "Excuse me?"
The hammer spirit snorted. "You did not understand the technique. You only let your body copy it."
Damian’s eyes widened. "What the hell? How did you know?"
The hammer spirit laughed again. "Because I am the one who gave you the technique, idiot."
Damian stared at the crude knife, then at the blazing hammer.
For once, he had no comeback.
The pipa spirit said coldly, "Rare. He became quiet."
Damian’s mouth twitched. "You two are really cruel."
The hammer spirit’s flames shook with amusement. "Cruel? No. Honest."
"That’s worse."
"You have decent hands, strong Qi, and enough willpower to keep hammering while injured," the hammer spirit said.
"But your mind did not truly grasp the deeper rhythm. You followed the shell, not the soul."
Damian rubbed his forehead. "Damn. You sound like a strict old blacksmith master."
"I am far better than an old blacksmith master."
"Of course you are."
The pipa spirit glanced at him. "Now you know how it feels to be judged honestly."
Damian looked at her. "I prefer being praised dishonestly."
"That suits you."
Damian sighed, then looked at the crude knife again.
It was ugly, uneven, and barely respectable.
Still, it was something he had forged with his own hands under King Grade weapon pressure while half-injured.
His lips slowly curved. "Not bad for a first try."
The hammer spirit hummed deeply.
"Yeah," it agreed. "Ugly as hell, but not bad."