*CLANG!*
The final hammer strike echoed through the desolate expanse of the Ashen Crucible, carrying the physical weight of a falling mountain.
Fang Lin lowered his Qi hammer, his chest heaving as white steam billowed from his skin. Resting on the center of the array-controlled anvil was a weapon that defied natural logic.
It was an eight-sided mace, forged from the absolute densest core of his obsidian sand stockpile and other auxiliary materials. Through the flawless application of the *Myriad Origin Artifice*, Fang Lin had compressed a mountain's worth of raw mass into a brutal, pitch-black weapon barely ten feet long. Its surface was completely unadorned, dark and light-absorbing, resembling a jagged pillar of solidified night.
Fang Lin reached out and gripped the haft(hilt).
*BOOM!*
The moment his skin made contact, the weapon recognized its master. A terrifying wave of ambient heat exploded outward. This was not normal fire. Embedded within the very spiritual matrix of the mace was a localized domain technique born from his understanding of the *Ashen Heaven Sutra*.
The solid basalt floor beneath his feet started to heat up. The air itself distorted, shrieking as the ambient oxygen combusted. This was the Pure Volcanic Eruption domain—raw, unadulterated explosive devastation meant to turn any battlefield into an inescapable hellscape.
Fang Lin's eyes flashed with fiery luminescence. He suppressed the domain, forcing the heat back into the dense obsidian core.
With a deliberate, careful movement, he extended his index finger. Channeling the destructive intent of the *Ashen Heaven Sutra* through his fingertip, he carved two ancient, jagged characters deep into the hilt of the mace. The strokes glowed with internal magma before fading to a dull ember red.
*Ashen Anvil.*
Ashen, for the grey mist and the sutra of destruction that formed his foundation. Anvil, for the nickname the outer sect had given him when he was nothing more than an immovable, unyielding rock.
He was no longer just a rock. He was the one swinging the hammer.
***
The heavy stone doors of the cave mansion on Peak Seventy-Four ground open.
Fang Lin had exited the cave after 5 long years!
He knew nothing about the current development of the sect, but people who had approached his cave mansion before had seen the massive DND sign hung outside his courtyard.
After exiting, he travelled very fast, descended the mountain and slipped through the sect gates, blending seamlessly into the endless stream of travelers heading toward Black Tortoise City.
He went to an alley where no one was around and using the *Phantom Transformation* skill pushed to Perfection Mastery, Fang Lin's physical structure radically shifted. His spine was severely hunched. His skin was wrinkled and mottled with age spots. His vocal cords had been forcibly constricted. Layered over this was the *Shadow Breath* technique, which completely suppressed his biological heat signature and compressed his vast Qi into a weak, flickering aura typical of an aging, talentless rogue cultivator.
***
The Star River Merchant Hall was a titan of commerce. Located in the absolute center of Black Tortoise City, it was an opulent fortress of white jade and gold, heavily guarded by intricate formations and elite mercenaries.
Fang Lin, in his hunchbacked disguise, shuffled through the grand entrance. He ignored the bustling main hall and approached the secluded appraisal counters at the rear.
A Core Formation appraiser, dressed in the luxurious silk robes of the merchant alliance, glanced up. He saw the withered old man and his unremarkable aura. The appraiser's expression remained professional, though a hint of polite dismissal lingered in his eyes.
"Greetings, senior," the appraiser said smoothly. "Are you looking to sell anything today?"
Fang Lin did not speak. His raspy, altered breathing was the only sound he made as he removed a heavy object wrapped in tattered grey cloth from his storage and dropped it onto the appraisal desk.
*THUD.*
The solid jade desk groaned under the concentrated weight, fine spiderweb cracks instantly spidering outward from the point of impact.
The appraiser's polite smile froze.
The moment the obsidian mace was exposed to the open air, the ambient temperature in the room had skyrocketed. The latent, suppressed Volcanic Eruption domain within the weapon flared in response to the appraiser's foreign Qi.
"Ah!"
The appraiser violently yanked his hands back. His palms were blistered red, smoking slightly. Panic seized his features. He didn't even hesitate. He slammed his palm onto a rune hidden beneath the desk.
*HUMMM.*
A thick, translucent barrier of energy instantly snapped into existence, sealing the appraisal room off from the main hall and forcefully suppressing the terrifying heat radiating from the weapon. The appraiser stared at the mace, his eyes wide with absolute horror. He could feel the internal laws woven into the metal.
"D-Domain Forging Grade..." he stammered, his voice trembling. He looked up at the withered old man, his professional dismissal completely replaced by raw terror. "Senior... please wait a moment. I... my clearance is insufficient. I must summon a Senior Appraiser!"
Fang Lin merely gave a slow, croaking grunt, and sat on a furniture.
Less than a minute later, the door to the appraisal room slid open. A middle-aged man with sharp features and eyes like polished silver stepped in. He wore robes embroidered with a constellation of stars.
This was Senior Appraiser Yun. A Late-stage Spirit Manifestation expert.
The moment Yun entered the room, his eyes snapped to the obsidian mace. He ignored Fang Lin completely, rushing to the desk. He hovered his hands over the weapon, his silver eyes glowing as his divine sense washed over the artifact.
"Flawless structural alignment..." Yun muttered, his breath catching. "A localized domain perfectly sealed within the core. This... this isn't just a Domain Forging weapon. This is a *Peak* Domain Forging weapon. It was forged by someone who understands the very breathing of the material!"
Yun carefully rotated the haft of the mace, his eyes landing on the two jagged, magma-lit characters.
"Ashen Anvil..." Yun whispered. He racked his brain, desperately searching his encyclopedic knowledge of the continent's legendary forgers. There was no Grand Domain Smith by the name of Ashen Anvil. Which means, a new, peerless master had appeared.
Slowly, Senior Appraiser Yun turned his silver eyes toward the hunchbacked old man.
Suspicion flared in Yun's heart. How could this weak, dying rogue cultivator possess a weapon forged by a hidden Grand Domain Smith? Was it stolen? Found in a ruin? Or... was this a disguise?
Yun narrowed his eyes. He sent out a subtle, probing thread of his Spirit Manifestation divine sense, attempting to pierce the old man's aura and discover the truth hidden beneath his appearance.
Fang Lin noticed the probe immediately.
He didn't circulate his Qi. He didn't move a single muscle.
Instead, deep within his Spiritual Sea, Fang Lin exhaled. He unleashed a single, concentrated fraction of his Peak Mortal Will.
It did not manifest as physical force. It was purely psychological. To Senior Appraiser Yun, it felt as though an ancient, unfathomable mountain had just crashed through the ceiling and landed directly on his soul. The air in the room instantly solidified into iron. The oppressive weight of a mind that had endured the grinding of a world-pillar bore down on the merchant.
Yun staggered backward, his face draining of all color. His subtle probe was crushed into nothingness. His own soul trembled violently, screaming at him to lower his head.
*Mortal Will power manifestation*
Yun was horrified. Only ancient monsters, grandmasters who had lived for centuries and forged their minds in absolute slaughter or supreme creation, possessed such terrifying willpower. This was no rogue cultivator. This might be the Grand Domain Smith himself, walking among mortals in disguise!
"F-forgive me, Senior!" Yun immediately bowed at a sharp ninety-degree angle, sweat pouring down his face. His arrogance was completely shattered. "This junior was blind and overstepped his bounds!"
Fang Lin let the silence stretch for five agonizing seconds, letting the psychological pressure marinate in the room. Finally, he withdrew his Will.
"I wish to auction this," Fang Lin rasped, his altered voice sounding like two grinding stones. "Can your Star River Merchant Alliance handle it?"
"Y-yes! Absolutely, Senior!" Yun stammered, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. He hastily produced a token from his spatial ring. It was forged of pure black gold, radiating a profound isolating aura. "Please accept this Star River Ebon-Gold Token. It grants you the highest VIP privileges across all branches on the continent, and its aura will shield your identity from any divine sense scans during our auctions."
Fang Lin snatched the token with a withered, trembling hand and tucked it into his robes.
"We shall feature this in the grand finale of our next major auction," Yun said eagerly, his eyes practically gleaming with greed and admiration as he looked at the mace. "If I may ask, Senior... what name should we list this peerless weapon under?"
Fang Lin turned toward the door, his back hunched.
"Name it whatever you want," the raspy voice echoed dismissively as he shuffled out of the room. "I only want high-grade spirit stones."
The door slid shut, leaving Senior Appraiser Yun and the Core Formation appraiser standing in absolute, stunned silence.
To forge a Peak Domain weapon and not even care enough to name it? The sheer, unadulterated arrogance of it left them breathless. He might really be the one who forged it. He knew about all the peak forgers in the Demon Immortal continent, the forger who he just met, might have worn a disguise.
The Star River Merchant Hall had just made contact with a legend. And very soon, the entire Black Tortoise City would know the name of the Ashen Anvil.
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