This was the testing hammer. Before any real forging began, a blacksmith would always probe the metal first, listening to its response and judging its toughness.
Gilbert, watching from behind, nodded faintly. Ray's focus was absolute, his expression calm and absorbed.
His perception was frighteningly sharp. Otherwise, there was no way he could have built such a solid foundation in just three years. Calm, intelligent, patient.
Gilbert felt no doubt that this child was worthy of inheriting his craft.
This attempt at Thousand Refinements was a crucial threshold.
Ray was only nine years old. If he succeeded, he would shatter a long-standing record.
The youngest blacksmith recorded by the Blacksmith's Association to complete Thousand Refinements had been a Saint Craftsman, aged thirteen years, three months, and two days.
Of course, Ray knew none of this.
At this moment, the entire world had narrowed to the Heavy Silver before him.
His left hammer rose and struck the edge of the metal.
Dang!
The Heavy Silver quivered, its body humming from the impact. Before the vibration could settle, the right hammer descended like lightning, striking again.
Ray had not yet reached the realm of Thousand Refinements, but he had forged countless Hundred Refined metals.
No matter how lofty Thousand Refinements were, the path always began with Hundred Refinements. Only by understanding the metal's temperament could refinement continue.
This was his first time forging Heavy Silver. Rushing was out of the question.
The twin hammers moved in flawless coordination, pounding in rhythm. Ray deliberately restrained his strength, using no more than thirty to forty percent of his full power.
Sparks burst outward in fleeting arcs. The steady cadence of hammer strikes filled the workshop, forming a vibrant, metallic melody.
Gradually, the Hundred Refinements were completed.
Like Thousand Refinements, Hundred Refinements were not a matter of counting strikes. The goal was to expel impurities, preserve structural integrity, and increase density.
Through this process, Ray came to understand Heavy Silver's temperament.
It was extraordinarily hard, surpassing every metal he had forged before. Yet it was also strangely flexible. Each strike made it vibrate briefly, as if it were resisting him in its own stubborn way.
Thankfully, Ray had not used excessive force. He still retained full control over his hammers.
With ordinary metals, a single strike from a forty-kilogram hammer would cave in an eighty-kilogram block. Heavy Silver, however, only deformed slightly, even when heated to optimal temperature.
This was no metal that would yield easily to Thousand Refinements.
Ray felt no impatience.
Years of forging had taught him the meaning of restraint. Even if he failed today, purifying it through Hundred Refinements alone would still be an achievement.
He treated the Heavy Silver as something precious. Rather than increasing his strength, he reduced it further. Strike after strike, he listened, felt, and learned. Little by little, he traced its veins, sensed its resistance, and purified it with care.
Gilbert's stern expression gradually softened into a faint smile.
Ray had found his rhythm on his own.
Forging metal was like courting a beloved woman. Force and impatience would only destroy it. One had to cherish it, understand it, and guide it gently. Though Heavy Silver appeared unyielding, reckless blows would shatter its internal veins, ruining its potential.
Slower forging took more time, but it was the surest path, especially with unfamiliar materials. Through prolonged contact, the metal would reveal itself.
As time passed, Ray's focus deepened. Eventually, he entered a strange, immersive state.
To him, the world no longer existed.
There was only the Heavy Silver.
Soul power flowed subtly through his body, reinforcing his stamina and sharpening his senses. Despite exhaustion creeping into his muscles, his spirit grew brighter instead of duller.
Unbeknownst to him, the hardship he had endured earlier had already strengthened his spiritual power.
Though spiritual power below the Spirit Connection realm seemed insignificant, its effects were everywhere. It heightened perception and supported perseverance.
Under its influence, Ray's concentration reached a new level. His years of forging had undoubtedly contributed to the Spirit Tower's evaluation of his spiritual power at level thirty-eight.
One hour passed.
The Heavy Silver showed little change, only slight deformation.
Two hours passed.
The hammer strikes grew denser.
Sweat soaked Ray's forehead and clothes. His body was exhausted, yet his spirit burned with intensity. The progress was slow. In truth, the Heavy Silver was not much different from when it had first reached Hundred Refinements.
But in those two hours, Ray had begun to communicate with it.
If one looked closely, faint circular depressions could be seen at every corner of the metal. Each was the result of countless precise strikes.
Every blow sent vibrations through the entire block, feeding Ray deeper understanding.
Dang!
This strike rang louder than all the others.
Gilbert's brows lifted sharply.
Ray had finally increased his strength.
Immediately, the hammering intensified. Each strike now carried weight and purpose.
Power surged from his calves, flowed through his waist, climbed his spine, and poured into his arms before crashing down through the hammers. Each blow now exceeded three hundred kilograms of force.
With a tap of his left foot, the furnace roared. The flames surged to their peak, orange fire bursting from the vents.
The Heavy Silver glowed a brilliant red.
The true Thousand Refinements had begun.
The higher the temperature climbed, the more pliant the Heavy Silver became.
Two full hours of patient forging passed. The metal began to respond at last, its surface rippling faintly beneath the hammer.
Ray did not slow. Each strike fell with unwavering rhythm, sparks bursting outward as the Heavy Silver gradually started to deform.
Whenever a dull ache rose in his arms, a familiar warmth surged from his spine. It flowed upward along his vertebrae, then spread into his limbs, dissolving the pain the instant it arrived.
At the same time, Ray instinctively channeled soul power into his arms, sustaining both strength and control.
Little by little, the chunk of Heavy Silver grew smaller.
This was no simple feat. Heavy Silver was already extraordinarily dense and resilient. Refining it further, shrinking it while preserving its internal veins, was an arduous task even for seasoned blacksmiths.
Yet under Ray's hands, its value was rising steadily. Each careful strike increased its worth twofold, then threefold.
He no longer knew how many times he had swung his hammers.
Gradually, the pounding slowed.
Before him lay a piece of Heavy Silver that emitted a faint, living radiance.
Each time Ray struck it, the metal seemed to breathe in harmony with him. His spine burned with heat, and beneath his sweat-soaked clothes, dim golden vein-like patterns surfaced across his skin.
Gilbert stood nearby, his gaze locked on the metal. He failed to notice the changes in Ray's body entirely.
A glimmer of gold ignited deep within Ray's eyes. Hammer and body moved as one. Each strike coaxed a clear, resonant tone from the Heavy Silver, gentle and reassuring.
His hammering accelerated.