The hammer strikes in the Artifact Refining Hall had found a rhythm.
Clang—clang—clang.
Bare-chested, Jiang Muchen stood before the anvil. Each strike sent fine ripples across the surface of the Scarlet Flame Essence Gold. Black impurities shed like dead skin, revealing the warm crimson beneath.
Fifteen days ago, he'd needed both hands just to steady the thirty-pound black iron hammer.
Now, he swung it one-handed—his wrist steady, unwavering.
Elder Huoyun lounged against a stone bench in the corner, drinking. His eyes were half-closed, as if asleep. But whenever Jiang Muchen's rhythm slipped by even a fraction, one eyelid lifted.
"Enough."
The hammer stopped mid-air. Jiang Muchen lowered it, muscles twitching faintly.
"No stone today." Huoyun nudged a wooden crate with his foot. "You're learning something else."
Inside the crate lay a mess of metal parts—interlocking gears, coiled chains, compressed springs, and iron plates carved with cold, intricate patterns.
"Basic components for mechanical constructs," Huoyun said, lifting one plate. "This is a spirit-guiding array. Converts spiritual energy into mechanical motion. Trace it with a carving blade—no breaks, uniform depth."
Jiang Muchen accepted the blade. Its tip was needle-thin, glinting under the lamp.
The first cut wobbled—half an inch off.
"Again."
The second attempt was straighter, but too shallow midway through.
"Again."
By the seventh ruined plate, blood seeped from the web of Jiang Muchen's right hand. He didn't speak. He switched hands, closed his eyes, and relied entirely on feel.
The blade slid across the metal with a steady rasp. The lines flowed smoothly, unbroken—like a stream finding its path.
Huoyun held the plate to the light, nodded. "Passable."
He swept the parts back into the crate. "Take these. Three days. I want a mechanical spider that can move."
"A spider?"
"The simplest construct." Huoyun turned away. "Crawl. Jump. Carry small loads. If you succeed, we move on. If not—"
He didn't finish.
The oil lamp in the Servants' Court burned all night.
Gears, chains, and springs covered the table. Jiang Muchen measured parts. Zheng Xiaoqi sketched designs. Lu Hanshan assembled. Wang Duobao… handed tools and yawned.
"The gear meshes here," Zheng Xiaoqi said. "Chain over this axle. Spring in the abdomen. Spirit-guiding array from the backplate to all eight legs—"
By dawn, a palm-sized metal spider crouched on the table.
Jiang Muchen slotted a low-grade spirit stone into its back and activated the array.
Hummm.
The spider twitched, stood, and staggered forward in a crooked line.
"It works!" Wang Duobao slapped the table.
The spider flipped onto its back, legs flailing.
Jiang Muchen righted it, exhaling slowly.
Crude. Ugly. But alive.
After that, progress accelerated.
The second spider could jump.
The third could carry stones.
The fourth—Jiang Muchen added a hollow chamber in its abdomen, filled it with powdered Rotbone Flower, and rigged the array to release it at a target location.
Single-use, but effective. An attack-type construct.
On the third evening, he brought all four spiders to the Refining Hall.
Huoyun paused his quenching work to watch.
They demonstrated one by one—crawl, leap, lift, disperse powder.
After the last, Huoyun clapped Jiang Muchen on the shoulder. "Three days. Better than I expected."
He handed over a thin manual. "Introduction to Mechanisms. Entry-level Refining Hall text. Eighteen basic constructs. One month. Master them."
Jiang Muchen flipped it open.
Page one: Windfire Wheel—a wheeled construct that spewed flames.
"There's more," Huoyun added, taking a drink. "The Outer Sect Tournament's been moved up."
"Moved up?"
"One month from now." Huoyun glanced at him. "Some clan heirs are heading out on expeditions and want to rack up contribution points before they go. You're participating."
"I—"
"Guest refiners are still Outer Sect disciples." Huoyun cut him off. "And the rewards are worth it."
He ticked them off.
"First: three days in the Star Vault.
Second: a Foundation Establishment Pill.
Third: a high-grade mortal artifact."
Then his gaze sharpened.
"And most important—top fifty qualify for the Trial Secret Realm."
The Trial Secret Realm.
Jiang Muchen's eyes lit up.
A sect-cleared low-tier realm. Controlled danger. Spirit herbs, monsters, sometimes even inheritances.
"You want in?" Huoyun asked.
"Yes."
"Then prepare. One month—master the mechanisms, break through Qi Condensation Fourth Layer."
His eyes flicked to the obsidian sword and dragon flute at Jiang Muchen's waist.
"And master those. Constructs are banned in the tournament. Artifacts and personal strength aren't."
Jiang Muchen didn't return home after leaving the hall.
He went straight to the market.
Wang Duobao was haggling at a stall. Seeing him, he hurried over.
"The tournament's been moved up," Jiang Muchen said. "One month."
Wang Duobao's face tightened. "That soon?"
"I need intelligence." Jiang Muchen scanned the crowd. "Top contenders. Strengths. Weaknesses. And everything on the Trial Realm."
"That won't be cheap—"
Jiang Muchen produced a pouch. Inside were two Thunder Essence Pills.
Wang Duobao's eyes gleamed. "Hard currency. Info brokers love these."
"Three days," Jiang Muchen said. "I want everything."
"Done."
Time compressed into razor-thin slices.
Day—cultivation.
Night—mechanisms.
Midnight—sword and flute.
In ten days, Jiang Muchen built all eighteen constructs from Introduction to Mechanisms.
Flames scorched wood.
Water jets pierced tiles.
Earth-shield constructs blocked Lu Hanshan's full-strength punch.
Vine traps held targets for three full breaths.
On the twentieth day, under dragon qi and Thunder Essence reinforcement—
He broke through.
Qi Condensation, Fourth Layer.
His spiritual energy doubled. Divine sense expanded from three meters to five. The dragon shadow in the flute swelled slightly, siphoning stray energy during the breakthrough.
The obsidian sword pulsed more clearly now. When swung, a faint inch-long blade of sword qi formed—nearly invisible, but real.
On the twenty-fifth day, Wang Duobao returned.
"Five favorites," he said, handing over papers.
"First—Lin Pojun. Qi Condensation Sixth Layer peak. Lin family's Mountain-Splitting Sword, third form."
"Second—Liu Ruyan, Pill Peak. Sixth Layer. Hundred Blossom Needles, poison expert. Prepared three Burst Qi Pills."
"Third—Shi Gang, Body Refinement Hall. Fifth Layer. Physical strength rivaling Seventh Layer. Indestructible Body fragment."
"Fourth—Zhou Ming, Array Hall. Fifth Layer. Three basic formations."
"And fifth…" Wang Duobao paused. "Chen Song."
Jiang Muchen raised a brow.
"He hit Sixth Layer last month. Thunder Hall's Heaven-Shocking Finger, second stage. Just returned from the Thunder Domain outskirts—badly injured, but far stronger."
Five mountains.
Fourth Layer against Fifth and Sixth.
A chasm.
"There's more," Wang Duobao added quietly. "Lin Tianying's confinement ended early."
"When?"
"Three days ago. His father pulled strings. He's Fifth Layer now."
Lin Tianying. Lin Pojun.
They would target him.
After Wang Duobao left, Jiang Muchen sat alone, staring at the five names.
Mountains.
But mountains are climbed.
Pure cultivation wasn't enough. He needed leverage.
His gaze drifted to the dragon flute—dangerous, uncontrollable.
No.
Then to the mechanism manual.
A spark.
Constructs were banned—but components weren't.
He flipped pages fast.
There it was.
Sleeve Arrow.
Spring-loaded steel needles hidden in the sleeve. Low power. High surprise.
Coat the needles with paralytic toxin—Rotbone extract. Not lethal. Just disruptive.
Dirty?
Maybe.
Effective?
Absolutely.
He closed the book, eyes bright.
Five days remained.
Three sleeve-arrow sets.
Refine his swordsmanship—basic Clear Wind Sword, nothing fancy.
Refine sound techniques—mental disruption, aura reinforcement.
All of it.
He pushed open the window.
Moonlight spilled across the intelligence sheets.
Five names. Five mountains.
He touched the guest token at his waist… the pills in his robe.
Extinguished the lamp.
And began cultivating.
Night deepened.
One hundred and twenty hours until the tournament.
The Way of the Lick — True Words:
The real trump card isn't how many killing moves you hide—
it's that when everyone thinks they've seen your hand,
you still have a card in your sleeve they've never imagined.