Nitish and Aaryan quickly reached Blackstone's house and handed over the 1,000 white ores they had gathered.
"Well, well… you've proven yourselves quite well," Blackstone said casually while working at his forge. "Shall I teach you both the art of forging now?"
"Actually, no," Nitish replied, a little hesitant. "I'd like to learn forging alone. Can you help Aaryan learn something else instead? Something like… rune formation?"
Blackstone paused, clearly surprised. He looked at Nitish with a suspicious glance.
"Rune formation?" he repeated. "You're a newly-arrived Heavenborn, aren't you? How do you even know about that?"
Nitish kept a calm expression. "Don't worry about that, sir. Just please tell me—can Aaryan learn rune formation from someone?"
Blackstone studied him silently for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes, he can," he finally said.
He walked over to a table, pulled open a drawer, and took out a sealed parchment. After scribbling something on it and stamping it with his insignia, he handed the letter to Aaryan.
"Take this to Master Jennifer. She's young—very young—but already a certified Rune Master. Give her this letter, and she'll teach you everything you need to know."
Aaryan took the letter with wide eyes and a grin, nodding eagerly.
With that, Blackstone turned back to Nitish.
"Come here, boy. Let me teach you the basics of forging."
He raised a single, blackened finger and said firmly, "There are three pillars in the art of forging. Remember them well."
Material. Melting. Manifestation.
Or simply put: Triple M.
"Material," Blackstone continued, "is the most obvious one. The better your materials, the better the weapon. Trash material makes trash weapons.
Melting—that's where your skill comes in. Melting ores isn't just about heating. You need perfect flame control, proper tools, and the right forging energy. Every second matters.
And finally—Manifestation. This is the real deal, the soul of the weapon. If what you imagine in your mind doesn't flow exactly into what your hands create… you're no forger. You're just wasting metal."
Nitish listened with focused intensity, hanging on every word. Blackstone's blunt and practical style made the lessons engaging. And over the next few hours, something became clear to the old man:
This boy wasn't ordinary.
He's a damn genius, Blackstone thought. The way he grasps these concepts so quickly… this kid could become a legendary forger one day.
Nitish absorbed every bit of knowledge like a sponge, his curiosity burning brighter with each passing minute. In just an hour or two, he had already mastered the fundamentals of forging—something that took others days, even weeks, to learn.
"I've taught you everything I was meant to," Blackstone said firmly. "The rest... is up to you now. Explore, experiment, and forge your own path."
Nitish bowed respectfully before him, then gently touched Blackstone's feet—a traditional sign of reverence. The old blacksmith was visibly startled.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?" Blackstone asked, eyes wide with surprise.
"You're my teacher now, Master. You taught me something priceless. I'll never forget that," Nitish said with genuine humility.
There was a pause.
Then, for the first time in years, a smile crept onto Blackstone's weathered face, and his eyes shimmered faintly.
"You really are something, boy… I don't remember the last time I smiled like this," Blackstone chuckled softly.
He raised a calloused hand and rested it gently on Nitish's head.
"You have my blessing. May every weapon you forge—or wield—strike down your enemies with unmatched power."
Then, in a sudden but heartfelt gesture, Blackstone removed a ring from his finger and placed it in Nitish's palm.
"Take this. A gift for one of the best students I've ever had," he said with rare affection.
Nitish looked down at the ring, astonished.
"What is this, Master?" he asked.
"It's a Storage Ring," Blackstone explained. "You can store up to 250 items in it. Unlike ordinary bags, this works with thought. Imagine what you want, and it appears instantly. Perfect for a swordsman who needs quick access to weapons."
Nitish's eyes gleamed as the reality of it hit him.
Item Acquired:Storage Ring (Common Rank)➤ Stores up to 250 items.➤ Grants +2 Intelligence.
"Thank you… thank you so much, Master!" Nitish exclaimed, clearly overwhelmed with joy.
As the excitement settled, a thought crossed Nitish's mind. He turned to Blackstone once again.
"Actually, Master… I need one more favor."
"Oh?" Blackstone raised an eyebrow. "What kind of favor?"
Nitish pulled a small item from his inventory and held it out.
"I found this Black Mould. Could you help me upgrade one of my weapons using it?"
As soon as Blackstone laid eyes on the item, his expression lit up.
"Well, well! Of course, I can! This'll only take two minutes," he said enthusiastically. "Now tell me—which weapon are we upgrading?"
Grinning, Nitish pulled a sword from his bag.
His previous sword—the one he had used all this time—had its durability reduced to zero and was on the verge of breaking. He needed a replacement, and this one was perfect.
The weapon he handed over wasn't something he had crafted himself, nor was it even a traditional sword.
It had dropped from the gnomes—a rare, unusual blade, unlike anything most players would consider a proper sword...
Item:Harbinger KatanaRank: CommonLevel: 4Type: One-Handed SwordDurability: 30/30Attack Power: 30Attack Speed: 30Effect: Particularly effective against players. Deals bonus damage to them.
To be honest, Nitish couldn't believe this was classified as a common-ranked weapon. Its power and stats far surpassed what you'd expect from something so low-tier.
Blackstone, clearly enjoying the challenge, picked up the blade with enthusiasm and began working on it. About 30 minutes later, he returned with the weapon—now gleaming and utterly transformed.
"Here you go," he said proudly. "Not only did I enhance it, I even fixed one hidden flaw it had."
Item Upgraded:Grooved Harbinger KatanaRank: BronzeLevel: 4Type: One-Handed SwordDurability: 70/70Attack Power: 60Attack Speed: 60Forged by:Grandmaster Forger BlackstoneModifications: Grooved blade design added for advanced combat efficiency.Effect: Now effective against both players and monsters.Passive Ability – Conti Bleed: The grooves in the blade cause deep bleeding wounds. Targets continue to lose HP over time due to the bleed effect.
Nitish's eyes widened as he took in the stats of the upgraded sword. His heart swelled with joy—it was so perfect, he wanted to hug Blackstone on the spot.
"You've turned this into an absolute monster of a weapon!"
Blackstone laughed. "What, did you think I was some second-rate blacksmith? I told you—I don't do anything halfway."
Grinning ear to ear, Nitish secured the katana to his belt, gave a respectful bow, and thanked his mentor once again.
As he stepped outside Blackstone's house, he noticed that Aaryan had already logged out.
"Guess it's time for me to return to Earth too," Nitish murmured.
He quickly initiated logout, and within moments, his eyes fluttered open—back in his real-world bedroom.
He sat up and glanced at himself in the mirror.
To his surprise, his skin looked noticeably clearer and smoother, almost glowing with health.
"Looks like leveling up inside Celestial Domain is starting to affect my real body too... even my physical health is improving," he said, slightly amazed.
He pulled out a bottle of A-Rank Nutrient Solution and downed it in one swift gulp. Then, as casually as ever, he walked over to the stove and started boiling water—for a quick cup of noodles.
Just then, Nitish's phone buzzed. It was a call from Aaryan.
"Bro, get to school right now. There's a problem," Aaryan said, clearly panicked.
"What happened now?"
"I can't explain over the phone. Just come, fast."
Before Nitish could say anything more, Aaryan cut the call.
"Man, can't a guy catch a break?" Nitish muttered under his breath.
He quickly finished his cup noodles, threw on some regular clothes, and rushed out the door toward school.
FARIDABAD SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL
It was still early morning, and students were just starting to pour into the school grounds. But today, there was something different in the air—an electrifying buzz of excitement. Every group, every conversation, everywhere, people were talking about just one thing: Celestial Domain.
Boys, girls—it didn't matter. Everyone was obsessed. They had all experienced the teleportation system for the first time, and it had blown their minds.
Even the media had gone into overdrive. News about Celestial Domain had spread like wildfire, and now, every single device was sold out. The shocking part? Despite the overwhelming demand, the company hadn't raised the prices. Instead, they had promised to restock and supply more devices as soon as possible.
Nitish arrived at school and quickly made his way to class. He dropped his bag on his desk and sat down—but something immediately felt off.
Everyone was staring at him.
And it wasn't the usual curiosity or gossiping stares—this was different. Their eyes were full of sympathy.
Before he could process it, Aaryan came rushing toward him.
"Bro! We're in big trouble! Shaurya—Shaurya Singh has created a massive problem for you!"
Nitish's face tightened at the mention of that name.
"What does he want now? Didn't Ridhima already ask him to stay out of my business?" Nitish asked, his voice low and a bit anxious.
"Yeah, she did. But you know how it is. Shaurya may be trash at academics, but he's a beast in martial arts. That's the only reason the school hasn't kicked him out. After failing, they gave him a special opportunity. If he can win a one-on-one challenge, he'll be awarded a scholarship and allowed to skip high school entirely and go straight to college."
"…And he chose me as the one he wants to fight, didn't he?" Nitish said with a defeated sigh.
Aaryan nodded grimly. "Yeah, but—"
Before he could finish, everyone in class turned toward the door.
Shaurya Singh had just entered the room.
He didn't waste a second. The moment he walked in, his eyes locked onto Nitish's.
With a smirk spreading across his face, he stepped forward and spoke loudly enough for the entire class to hear:
"Guys, please listen to me carefully," Shaurya Singh said, his voice loud and charismatic as he stood in the classroom doorway, grabbing everyone's attention.
"As you all know, I'm Shaurya Singh—the one who ranked fourth in the City Martial Arts Tournament. The school has granted me a special opportunity: I can claim someone else's scholarship and directly skip to college."
He paused, letting the murmurs settle before continuing with a mocking smile.
"And for this noble cause, I've turned to a dear old friend… my lovely girlfriend's adorable ex-boyfriend—Nitish Sharma!"
A few chuckles echoed across the class. Nitish clenched his jaw but stayed silent.
"Of course," Shaurya said, walking over and placing a hand on Nitish's shoulder. "I'm not just going to snatch his scholarship without offering something in return. That wouldn't be fair, right?"
He gave Nitish's shoulder a firm squeeze and turned back to the class with exaggerated generosity.
"So here's the deal—I'll give my dear brother ₹1 crore, and even get him a permanent job in my father's factory!"
The class erupted in gasps and sarcastic whispers.
"Wow, Shaurya is being so generous."
"He's giving a loser like Nitish a job and money. What more could he want?"
"He should be thankful, what's a topper even gonna do with that scholarship anyway?"
Each word cut through Aaryan like a blade. His fists clenched under his desk, his face reddening in silent fury. He knew better than anyone that no amount of money or dead-end job could compare to what Nitish truly deserved.
"Here, just sign this," Shaurya said, pulling out some papers and placing them in front of Nitish. "Let's make it official."
Nitish noticed Ridhima watching silently from behind Shaurya. Her eyes showed no interest, no sympathy—just blank indifference.
"Shaurya, I—"
"What?" Shaurya's grip on his shoulder tightened.
"You're not going to refuse me… are you, bhai?" he said sweetly—but everyone could hear the threat behind the words.
Nitish looked him dead in the eyes.
"Yes, Shaurya. I am refusing."
The entire class went silent.
Even Shaurya froze for a second.
Ridhima blinked, eyebrows slightly raised. Aaryan looked at Nitish in disbelief.
"Bro, is he serious?"
"Is Nitish… suicidal?"
The class watched the scene unfold like a lamb walking into a slaughterhouse.
Shaurya's smile vanished. His eyes darkened.
"What? You ungrateful piece of trash—can't handle a little fame, huh? Sign the papers quietly, or I'll knock the poverty right out of you!"
"Shaurya," Nitish said calmly, "take your hand off me."
That sentence hit harder than any punch.
The air in the room turned thick. Shaurya slowly stepped back, his pride clearly shaken.
He looked at Nitish for a long moment before suddenly bursting into laughter.
"Wow! Looks like seeing Ridhima again triggered some of your old ego, huh?" he said mockingly. "Alright then. Let's make it interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"One-on-one practice match. You versus me. If I win, you sign the papers and apologize in front of everyone," Shaurya declared, his smirk returning.
Nitish tilted his head slightly.
"And… what if I win?" Nitish asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The room went silent again—only this time, it felt colder.
Did he just say that?
Students stared wide-eyed at Nitish like he'd grown a second head.
"This guy's gone crazy…"
"If he hadn't said that, maybe Shaurya would've gone easy on him—but now? Nitish's going straight to the hospital."
"Damn… this kid's got guts."
A slow, wicked grin spread across Shaurya's face. He was enjoying every second of this.
"Fine," Shaurya said smoothly. "If, by some miracle, you beat me… I'll give you whatever you ask."
Nitish didn't flinch.
"I want your Diamond Martial Hall card."
The moment those words left his mouth, it was like a storm had swept the room.
Gasps. Murmurs. Shocked faces.
Shaurya's confident smile faltered for a second. Just a second.
The Diamond Card wasn't just some gym pass. It was the second-highest rank in the city's most elite private martial training facility—a hall owned by Shaurya's family. Access to personalized coaches, advanced battle simulations, magic-enhanced sparring gear, healing pods… it was worth lakhs.
Nitish had just asked for his pride.
Shaurya chuckled, rolling his neck, arrogance returning.
"Alright. Deal done."
Within minutes, both of them were at the school's private practice martial hall—a high-ceilinged space with padded floors, reinforced walls, and enough room for the entire class to gather and witness the showdown.
Both fighters signed a quick duel agreement. No outside interference. No backing out.
And then they stood opposite each other—exactly three meters apart.
Shaurya cracked his knuckles.
Standing shirtless with only his martial gi pants on, he looked like a beast. His muscles were cut like stone, his arms veined with power, and the calm smirk on his face screamed confidence.
Nitish, on the other hand, looked… normal. Too normal. School uniform still on, sleeves rolled up, shoes loosened, hair slightly messy from rushing to school. But his eyes… his eyes were locked, focused.
Like a blade ready to break.
Shaurya sneered, stepping forward slightly.
"There's still time," he said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "If you get on your knees and beg, I might just let you walk away with your bones intact."
Nitish stood still.
"…No."
His voice was calm.
But in his heart… a war raged.
He knew he couldn't beat Shaurya. Not in a straight-up fight. The gap in strength was just too wide. Shaurya was a trained martial artist. A monster in the ring. And Nitish… he was just a gamer.
But he also knew something else—
He didn't want to lose everything without fighting.
Even if it meant waking up in the hospital, bruised and broken, at least he'd know he stood up.
Even if this was the end, he wanted to fall on his own terms.
The crowd gathered fast. Students from other sections. Even teachers had begun to peek in.
But no one came to stop it.
Because everyone wanted to see Nitish Sharma get destroyed.
Shaurya dropped into his stance—light on his feet, fists up, eyes locked.
Nitish… took a breath.
The bell rang.
The match began.
"1, 2, 3… FIGHT!"
The moment the signal dropped, Shaurya lunged forward like a beast unleashed, his fist rocketing toward Nitish with a brutal arc.
"Welp, he's dead."
"RIP Nitish Sharma, gone but not forgotten."
Aaryan's heart skipped a beat, his hands clenched in helpless panic.
He's not going to make it.
Even Nitish himself braced for the impact. He could almost feel the air tighten around Shaurya's punch.
But then—
SWOOSH!
Nitish's body shifted on instinct—clean, quick, like a practiced dodge that his mind hadn't even commanded. The punch missed.
And before Shaurya could recover—
BOOM!
Nitish's fist crashed squarely into Shaurya's nose.
Blood splattered.
"AARGHH!" Shaurya reeled back in agony, his hands flying to his face as blood trickled down.
The audience?
Dead. Silent.
"W-What…"
"Was that… Nitish?"
Even Aaryan, mouth hanging open, stammered: "Y-Yeh Nitish tha?"
All eyes darted to him, some rolling in disbelief.
You didn't know your own best friend could do that?
But Shaurya was far from finished.
His eyes, now bloodshot with rage and humiliation, locked onto Nitish. "You think you're clever?" he hissed, veins bulging on his neck.
He pulled his right arm back.
"TIGER ROARING FIST!"
The crowd gasped.
That wasn't a punch. That was a kill shot. A technique so powerful it could dent steel.
Nitish saw it coming.
He panicked.
But something—something else—took over.
In the blink of an eye, his hand snapped out and struck Shaurya's wrist mid-air—redirecting the force. The punch still landed… but its impact was dulled. Nitish was knocked back, skidding across the floor, blood dribbling from the side of his lips.
But…
He stood.
And his eyes—though confused—still burned with something unfamiliar.
Shaurya, growling, charged again.
"DIE, YOU PIECE OF—!"
Nitish dodged again, narrowly escaping a vicious kick, and then—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Three clean strikes.
Open palm. Knife-edge chop. Reverse thrust.
All to the gut.
Shaurya gasped, choked—and dropped to his knees.
And then?
He vomited.
Right there on the mat.
And within three seconds, Shaurya Singh—city's number four ranked fighter—collapsed face-first onto the floor, unconscious… and coated in his own puke.
Dead silence.
Disgust, shock, disbelief… every student in the martial hall was frozen. No one could process what they'd just witnessed.
"Did he… just defeat Shaurya Singh?"
"That too… like that?!"
But for Nitish and Aaryan, this wasn't triumph.
It was confusion.
They knew Nitish didn't know martial arts. They knew he didn't have that kind of power, strength, or training.
And yet…
Nitish stared at his hands, wide-eyed.
What… just happened to me?
Slowly, quietly, Nitish walked to the duel agreement desk. The stunned receptionist handed over the Diamond Martial Hall Card without a word.
Nitish took it silently.
He didn't gloat.
He didn't look back.
He just walked to Aaryan.
"Bhai…" Nitish said softly.
"Let's go," Aaryan replied, equally dazed.
And as they walked out of the practice hall, a strange thing happened.
The crowd…
Parted.
No one blocked their path. No one even dared whisper. It was as if Nitish had become something else in that moment. Something dangerous. Unpredictable.
To them… Nitish was no longer "normal."
He was a hidden monster.
And no one—no one wanted to find out what else he was hiding.
As Nitish continued walking, he noticed that Ridhima was staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
"Nitish, I—" Ridhima was about to say something when Nitish raised his hand and silenced her.
Even the people around them were stunned into silence by Nitish's reaction—their throats dry with unease.
"Don't say anything to me. Just let me live in peace," Nitish said in a quiet, restrained voice.
Then Nitish and Aaryan walked into their classroom.
After school ended, the two of them were sitting in Aaryan's hostel room.
"Nitish, will you please tell me what's going on?" Aaryan asked nervously, looking directly at him.
"I don't know, man. I really don't," Nitish replied.
"Then what was all that? Those movements? Those strikes? Those reflexes? I noticed your strikes didn't have that much power—your body hasn't changed all that much. But the precision! They were so deadly! How is that even possible?" Aaryan shared what had been on his mind.
"I don't know, Aaryan... but ever since I joined Celestial Domain, my skills have been improving—somehow. The moment I joined, I could wield a sword! I mean, I had never even trained in sword fighting before."
"Yeah, I noticed that too! But how, bro? How is that possible?" Aaryan was just as confused.