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[Weapon Forging – Sword of Thunder]
"I hope you can help me integrate these materials into the Sword of Thunder, following the design shown in this blueprint," Chen Xing said, handing the drawing to Qiudian Lang.
"The requirements are: the Sword of Raijin—normally, the wielder only needs to channel chakra into the hilt to manifest the blade, and the blade's length can be adjusted at will. Most importantly, the sword's cutting power must be greatly enhanced. Can you make it?"
Qiudian Lang's eyes lit up as he studied the drawing.
"No problem. It'll take around twenty days. But… such high-grade material—are you sure you want to melt it down for this? This is enough to forge a true masterpiece!" As a master blacksmith, nothing made him happier than working on a legendary weapon.
"That's fine. I'll return in half a month to collect it. The name stays the same—Sword of Thunder." Chen Xing spoke simply.
"Alright, come back then," Qiudian Lang nodded.
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[Half a Month Later – Small Mountain Range, Blacksmith's Cave]
When Chen Xing returned, he found Qiudian Lang pale and exhausted, bloodshot eyes betraying sleepless nights—but there was a deep satisfaction hidden behind his fatigue.
"Qiudian-sensei, is my sword finished?" Chen Xing asked with a faint smile. In his eyes, there was an eager glint—after all, the weapon was forged with rare materials, including the remains of the Tyrant Beast. The reforged Sword of Raijin should be nothing short of extraordinary.
"Finished! I doubt I'll ever forge something greater than this in my lifetime," Qiudian Lang said, voice hoarse but proud. For a blacksmith, this was the pinnacle of his craft.
"This is it," he continued, holding out a simple yet mysterious sword hilt with a faint purple floral pattern. "If you're not satisfied, I can still make adjustments—but it's heavier than most weapons."
Chen Xing took the hilt in hand and channeled chakra into it.
With a bzzt—a flash of purple lightning erupted, forming a solid blade. Arcs of electricity danced across its surface, the blade shining brilliantly. Unlike the old Sword of Raijin, which was a pure chakra construct, this one had a physical blade forged from an unknown purple alloy.
Chen Xing gripped it tightly, testing a few swings. The balance was excellent. But here in the forge, he couldn't test its true combat power.
"Yes… I'm satisfied. I'll be taking it," he said, sheathing the weapon.
"Hah! Then take it and go. If you stay here waving that thing around, I might get greedy and keep it for myself," Qiudian Lang chuckled, waving him off.
"You should celebrate—though I doubt anyone could take this from me." Chen Xing smiled, confident in his own strength.
Though the reforged Sword of Raijin was infused with Qing Ming's materials, it was still a sword—the true limit of its power would depend on its wielder, not the blade alone.
"By the way," Qiudian Lang asked, "can you tell me your real name?"
"Peacock King," Chen Xing replied, walking out without looking back.
"Peacock King… quite the mysterious young man," Qiudian Lang murmured.
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[Land of Craftsmen – Wanmin City]
Leaving the mountains, Chen Xing traveled to Wanmin City, the largest settlement in the Land of Craftsmen. Even in peacetime, the demand for weapons and armor was massive—especially here, where nearly ten thousand artisans worked. The city had been established by the First Daimyō of the Land of Craftsmen and was known for its constant bustle: carts laden with ore, smithies roaring with heat, and ninja or mercenaries coming to place custom orders.
Chen Xing, eager to test his new weapon, headed for the city's underground network.
Outside a black-market bar, he could already hear the rowdy shouts inside. Stepping in, he felt the weight of curious stares.
The girl at the counter froze for a moment, then widened her eyes.
"Peacock King?" she whispered.
"What?"
"He's the Peacock King?"
"So young…"
Her words spread quickly, and soon the other bounty hunters were glancing his way with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Chen Xing ignored them, walking to the counter. "A cup of your strongest."
The girl served him with a curious look—he couldn't be more than fifteen, yet there was an easy smile on his face that belied danger.
Chen Xing took a sip of the burning liquor, feeling the heat spread down his throat. He wasn't a heavy drinker, but years as a shinobi had given him tolerance.
"Help me check the intel on this man," he said, opening an S-class bounty ledger to a portrait of a scarred swordsman. Below the image, it read:
> Heida Tado – Kirigakure Missing-nin, Elite Jōnin level.
Bounty: 25 million ryō.
Last seen August 25th in the Land of Craftsmen.
The girl's eyes narrowed—Kirigakure, the Village of the Bloody Mist, produced only the most ruthless shinobi. An elite jōnin from there meant blood on his hands—both friend and foe.
"I'll check. Please wait." She pulled out a massive notebook, flipping through pages with practiced speed.
Finally, she found the entry.
"Recent sighting: three days ago, September 5th, in the port town of Mikazuki. Intel fee is thirty thousand ryō."
Chen Xing tossed the coins onto the counter. "Worth it."
Pocketing the information, he stood and left, already thinking ahead. The bounty network here was impressive—but relying solely on others' intel was a weakness.
"If I'm to move freely, I'll need my own intelligence network… and for that, the cursed seal research comes first."
With that thought, the Peacock King vanished into the road leading toward the Land of Fire.
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