Jin Zhengqiu stared at the sword in his hand, He clearly remembered that this "failed product" had suffered a chip on its edge when it clashed with the intermediate-grade mortal weapon. Yet now, under the flickering light of the furnace, the blade was smooth and intact as if the damage had never existed.
Could it be… this sword repairs itself?
Could it be… I didn't fail after all?!
Becoming a true Great Master of forging was Jin Zhengqiu's lifelong aspiration. He knew from ancient texts that weapons capable of self-repair did exist, transcendent artifacts, usually far surpassing Spiritual Artifacts in rarity and power. Spiritual Artifacts possessed a wisp of sentience, but self-restoration bled into the domain of the divine.
Did I… inadvertently forge something beyond a Spiritual Artifact?
A surge of wild, almost delirious joy flooded his chest, but it was quickly doused by the icy waters of reason.
Impossible.
With decades of forging experience, he knew this defied all logic. If artifacts surpassing Spiritual Artifacts could be forged so casually, by a mistake no less, then they wouldn't be legends; they'd be commonplace. He was only forty, his eyesight still sharp, his mind clear. He couldn't have been mistaken. The sword hadn't left his side; it couldn't have been swapped. And that unique, congealed drop of blood on the blade was impossible to replicate.
Frowning deeply, he took a piece of fine silk and began gently wiping the blade, his thoughts racing.
Suddenly, the longsword in his hand grew warm.
Then hot.
Then searing.
Jin Zhengqiu gasped as the metal grew too hot to hold. The entire blade flushed a deep crimson, as if heated in the heart of an invisible forge. He flung the sword onto the anvil and scrambled back two steps, clutching his scalded palm.
His eyes darted around the forge, nothing was amiss. No other source of heat. His gaze snapped back to the sword, fear and awe warring within him.
Something is happening!
As he watched, countless tiny, ash-gray particles began seeping from the surface of the red-hot blade. More and more emerged, coalescing into a fine, dull powder that coated the metal. Jin Zhengqiu's jaw went slack.
This process… it was uncannily similar to qiangang, the repeated hammering and folding performed by a smith to purge impurities from the steel.
Is it… refining itself?
Could this sword truly… evolve?
The question echoed in his mind, awe-struck and terrified. What in all the heavens and earth have I created?
When the seepage of impurities ceased and the crimson glow faded, Jin Zhengqiu, hands trembling, used iron tongs to quench the sword once more in the snowmelt.
Steeling himself, he again brought it down upon the same intermediate-grade mortal weapon.
Clang!
This time, a chunk of metal flew from the intermediate weapon's edge.
The longsword was pristine and Unharmed.
The confirmation struck him like a physical blow. It had evolved. From a low-grade mortal weapon to an intermediate-grade one.
And if it could evolve once…
Could it become a high-grade mortal weapon? A top-grade? Could it… could it ascend to the rank of Profound Weapon? Spiritual Artifact? Could it even become… a Divine Artifact?
Infinite, dizzying possibilities unfolded in his mind. He knew it was wild speculation, but he had seen it. He had witnessed it with his own eyes. That slender thread of possibility was enough to set his soul ablaze.
Jin Zhengqiu snatched up the sword, his body trembling not with fear, but with rapturous excitement. He stroked the cool blade with his injured hand, he gazed upon it with a possessive devotion.
[Sword-Master's emotional fluctuations detected. 'Misfortune' skill effect activated.]
[Sword-Master Jin Zhengqiu's Luck Value -1.]
---
"What a disgusting gaze!" a voice screamed in the void no one else could perceive.
"Stop touching me, damn it!"
"I can't take it anymore, this old bastard! I'll kill him! I'll chop him into eight pieces! A thousand slices! I'll grind him into paste!"
Inside the sword, Chen Hao's soul raged. The absorption of the young apprentice's blood and soul had nourished him back to full consciousness. And the first thing he witnessed upon awakening was his murderer fondling his new "body" with that revolting, covetous look.
The frustration was maddening. Not only was his physical form gone, not only was he trapped, but he was held captive by his killer, subjected to this… this violation. It was a torment worse than death.
But no matter how he roared, Jin Zhengqiu heard nothing. Finally, spent and seething, Chen Hao remembered the most crucial thing.
"System… are you still there?"
[consciousness confirmed. Strongest Demon-Sword System fully operational.]
"Weren't you the 'Strongest Human System'?"
[Host life form has fundamentally changed. System has adapted accordingly.]
"Do I… do I still have a status panel?"
[Of course.]
Chen Hao let out a soul-deep sigh of relief. The System remained. As long as it was here, he had a foundation, and maybe a chance for revenge.
He focused, and a translucent panel materialized in his perception:
[Sword Name: None]
[Rank: Intermediate Mortal Weapon]
[Sword-Master: Jin Zhengqiu]
[Innate Skill: Master-Slayer]
[Skills:]
[1. Misfortune (Active): Continuously drains Sword-Master's Luck. (-1 Luck Value. 10 = Child of Destiny)]
[2. Slaughter Evolution: Advance by absorbing blood and soul energy.]
[3. Auto-Repair: Consume blood/soul energy to repair damage.]
"System, why is my name still 'None'?"
No sooner had he asked than Jin Zhengqiu's voice, soft and full of pride, echoed from outside. "You are the magnum opus of my life… I shall name you. 'BloodRend Divine Sword.' May you live up to the name 'Divine Sword'."
"You call me 'BloodRend Divine Sword,' so that's my name? My name is Chen Hao!" Chen Hao bellowed internally.
But on the status panel, the characters for "None" shimmered and morphed into four new ones: BloodRend Divine Sword.
Chen Hao felt another wave of homicidal fury. "Can I be called Chen Hao?!"
[Error. Sword name is designated by the Sword-Master. Host lacks permission to modify.]
Calm down. Breathe. Keep looking.
His gaze fell on a line.
[Innate Skill: Master-Slayer]
---
Jin Zhengqiu was ecstatic for a full day. He didn't even open the forge the next morning, instead locking himself inside to admire, polish, and simply hold the BloodRend Divine Sword.
But as the initial euphoria faded, a deep, gnawing confusion took root. The more he thought, the less he understood. With a lifetime of knowledge, he could not comprehend how he had succeeded. The process made no sense.
He clutched his head, muttering to the silent forge, "Why… why did the BloodRend Divine Sword change like this?"
Chen Hao, of course, was not about to enlighten him. Why? Because you used priceless materials to melt down a Transmigrator's body and soul, then jump-started it all with a System's Golden Finger! The thought made Chen Hao's non-existent heart ache. He was undoubtedly the most pathetic transmigrator in all of history.
Out of sight, out of mind. Unable to bear the sight of Jin Zhengqiu's baffled yet smug face any longer, Chen Hao withdrew his consciousness, sinking into a self-imposed dormancy.
For now, he had to wait. He had to endure.
But he wasn't worried. Not really.
He understood Jin Zhengqiu's greed perfectly. Now that the man knew the "BloodRend Divine Sword" was miraculous, he would move heaven and earth to help it upgrade.
No one could resist the lure of a potentially infinite Divine Artifact. In games, people would grind endlessly or bankrupt themselves for a pixelated legendary weapon. In this Cultivation world where martial power was supreme and a weapon was a warrior's second life? The obsession would be a thousand times more potent.
Let him, Chen Hao thought, a cold focus settling over his soul. Let him pour all his resources, all his effort into upgrading me.
And when I am strong enough…