Chapter 1021: Cao Family Blacksmith Shop

The Sword Mound of the Eastern Region.

Eastern Mountain, revered by thousands of swordsmen, resembled a gigantic, bladeless sword, its hilt plunged into the ground as if inverted, yet still towering into the clouds. Within Eastern Mountain, sword intent permeated the air.

Chants rose and fell, as if someone were singing a play with fervent enthusiasm. Then, as the golden scroll high in the heavens receded, and the overpowering, domineering daoist chant faded, the singing inside Eastern Mountain ceased.

“A hundred generations for my Eight Revered Ones…”

“Tsk tsk, after being subdued for so long, I’ve finally recaptured some of that wild, uninhibited feeling from decades ago…”

“I truly miss it.”

Wen Ting, in his theatrical costume, walked barefoot through the dim mountain interior, his voice full of nostalgia. Before long, a soft, mournful cry from the distant Sword Cleansing Pool caught his attention. Wen Ting listened intently for a moment, then a smirk appeared on his lips, and he quickened his pace.

Splash.

He stepped into the Sword Cleansing Pool, sending water splashing everywhere. He found the source of the mournful cry: a broken sword. The Sword Mound typically housed masterless swords, whose owners had either perished or gone missing. It was rare for broken swords and defeated weapons to retain such intense vitality after being abandoned.

But this broken sword, as it cried, still had water droplets on its blade. It was unclear if it was just water from the pool or genuinely tears from an iron sword, a phenomenon rarely seen in a thousand years. Wen Ting chuckled as he crouched down, gazing at the trembling, aggrieved broken sword. He reached out and flicked it gently.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz!”

The broken sword struggled violently, unable to bear the humiliation.

Wen Ting smiled mockingly, saying:

“Qingju, Qingju, why are you so stubborn? I told you long ago to find a new master, but you wouldn't listen. Now look, your master is back, and you’ve been discarded. You might end up spending your entire life here with me in this sunless Eastern Mountain… Hahaha, how funny, how funny!”

“Wuwuwu!”

The broken sword cried even harder. It desperately wanted to pull itself out and fly up to strike the human in front of it with a fierce blow. However, swords in the Sword Cleansing Pool, if masterless, could never emerge and would never see the light of day.

“Tsk tsk tsk…”

Wen Ting clicked his tongue, a devilish smile on his face. Seeing the broken sword cry even more bitterly, he pulled out a jade vial and began collecting the water droplets from the sword’s blade, drop by drop.

“Cry more, cry more… Sword tears, these are rarely seen in a thousand years! I don’t have much collected, so you’d best put some effort into crying.”

Clang, clang, clang—

Unable to endure the humiliation, the broken sword erupted with intense sword intent, causing even some rusted ancient swords in the pool to shatter.

“Can this harm me?”

Wen Ting remained indifferent, letting the sharp sword intent rage, as if it were a gentle breeze, barely stirring his hair or clothes. He reached out, flexed his finger, and flicked the broken sword hard again. Instantly, Qingju wailed, “Wuwuwu,” and painfully shed more sword tears. Wen Ting burst into laughter, simultaneously collecting the tears in his jade vial and continuing his mockery.

“Good crying, good crying! I’ll see how long you can last here with me… refusing to acknowledge a master? For your entire life, all you’ll be able to do is ‘cry’! Still waiting for the Eight Revered Ones? Why don’t you just ascend to the heavens!”

In the Central Region stood an ordinary blacksmith shop.

Beneath the iron sign that read “Cao Clan Blacksmith Shop,” a burly man with bare torso and 'Kirin arms' paced anxiously, yet dared not make too much noise. It was clear he had been waiting a long time, and finally, he couldn’t help but shout into the shop.

“Not ready yet? I have over thirty pigs waiting back at my farm! You set a deadline for me to pick up the knife, but you’ve kept me waiting for so long. Am I even going to slaughter these pigs or not?!”

After his shout, the half-closed wooden door creaked open, and a wave of heat blasted out. The burly man instinctively recoiled a few steps, feeling the scorching heat on his face. Soon, heavy footsteps echoed, and a small, giant-like figure emerged from within.

The burly man was already quite tall. He stood eight feet tall, and from years of slaughtering pigs, his upper body was as stout as an ox. But as the wooden door vibrated open, the burly man felt a shadow fall over him. A small giant, hunched over to barely squeeze through the doorway, appeared. This small giant held a miniature knife in his hand, gripping it with just two fingers. Once outside, he straightened his back, standing more than three heads taller than the pig butcher. His sheer breadth was as thick as a pillar, twice that of the butcher!

“Big bro, big bro…” The pig butcher shrank his neck, rubbed his hands together, his voice softening, “Is the knife ready? I’m here to pick it up. You’ve worked hard.”

“Here.” The small giant grunted, his voice deep and guttural. Without a hint of impatience, he handed over the pig-slaughtering knife, then squeezed back into the cramped blacksmith shop without looking back.

“What a strange guy,” the pig butcher mumbled. He held the knife, swung it, and, marveling at its excellent quality, threw down some money and scurried away.

This “Cao Clan Blacksmith Shop” was renowned in the nearby neighborhood! The ironware forged by the father and son was truly top-notch, with unparalleled quality and affordable prices. The only odd thing was… The father and son were not good with words, and both looked like giants, hardly seeming like ordinary mortals.

It was rumored that not long ago, someone had seen Cao Erzhu, the small giant, returning from Qingyuan Mountain carrying a bull in one hand and a tiger in the other. It was also said that someone had witnessed the battle… a brutal sight, where he’d taken down creatures with a single punch, smashing their skulls. It sounded bloody and thrilling. A person like that surely wouldn’t need a knife to slaughter pigs; he could just tear them apart with his bare hands.

Inside the blacksmith shop.

Cao Erzhu thumped back to the bellows, picked up his specially made large iron hammer, and as he pounded, he couldn't help but savor the celestial phenomenon that had just delayed his return of the knife.

“A hundred generations for my Eight Revered Ones, I summon divine light with my command…”

“That’s so damn cultured, unlike me, who only blabbers like a child.”

“Hmm… this person must be the Eighth Uncle Dad always talks about, right?”

Two eyes peered out from Cao Erzhu’s fleshy face, filled with longing. At twenty-six, he was in the prime of his hot-blooded youth. Who wouldn’t feel their heart surge and yearn for such a divine spectacle? Cao Erzhu reflected on his life. His mother had died in childbirth, his sister had run away, fed up with their father’s temper, and he himself had spent over twenty years hammering iron in this dilapidated blacksmith shop. Sometimes, he truly felt fed up with this mortal life. Even though he was clearly strong, he couldn’t use any of his abilities, feeling like a useless waste. He also wanted to leave the blacksmith shop and step into that mysterious realm, to fight alongside those immortal spiritual refiners. But his father always insisted he only train in outdoor combat, never allowing him to enter the world of spiritual refining.

“A hundred generations for my Eight Revered Ones…”

As Cao Erzhu pounded the iron blank, repeating these words, his blood suddenly surged, and hot air spewed from his seven orifices. He felt an inexplicable power awaken within him, stirring a desire to defy.

“Dad!”

He turned, his hammering still relentless, and shouted towards the dark, sunless back courtyard, which was completely enclosed above. In the dim back courtyard, occasional flashes of blue lightning outlined the form of an even more colossal giant. This giant was also bare-chested, and despite the blacksmith shop feeling like the inside of a volcano, he still wore a large cloak. He held a massive wine barrel, which, like a large stone pillar, filled the entire back courtyard space. As the electric light flashed, illuminating him for a moment, one could faintly discern his immense arm muscles, gnarled and thick, large enough to equal three times the head of the pig butcher from earlier!

“Hiccup—”

A heavy hiccup, accompanied by a strong alcoholic scent and a nasal “Hmm,” answered Cao Erzhu’s call, indicating his father was still lucid. Cao Erzhu took a deep breath and declared loudly:

“Dad! I’ve mastered the ‘Punishing God, Executing Calamity’ technique! I’ve also grasped the six forms of Thorough Divine Perception! I’ve learned your ‘Gentleman’s Brutal Hammer Technique’ to its final, twelfth level! My Throne Body can’t be upgraded any further, and as for spiritual refining, I’ve also reached the Throne Dao Realm…”

“Hiccup!” A hiccup interrupted Cao Erzhu’s excited pronouncements. What followed was a drowsy, almost muddled, yet thunderous voice, “Get… to the point, hiccup!”

Cao Erzhu shivered, then meekly said, “Dad, I… I want to go out.”

“Go where?”

“J-just step outside.”

“How far?”

“Pretty… pretty far.”

“How long until you’re back?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Boom!

A muffled thunderclap erupted within the blacksmith shop, followed by two intersecting streaks of lightning that shot towards Cao Erzhu. “Erzhu, what are you saying?”

Cao Erzhu dared not meet his father’s gaze. He turned his head, pounding the iron, and recalling the audacious spirit of “A hundred generations for my Eight Revered Ones,” he said forcefully, “I actually want to… briefly experience the outside world.”

“If you leave, who will support me?” The deep, thunderous voice echoed from the darkness again.

Cao Erzhu stopped hammering, scratching his head with the glowing red iron hammer. His eyes showed confusion: “You’re right…”

“Hiccup!”

Another heavy hiccup. The giant in the back courtyard guzzled down the rest of the wine in the barrel, then tossed it aside. Wiping his mouth, he sobered considerably and said:

“It’s too dangerous out there. Have you been tricked by your Eighth Uncle? That shout he made earlier was just to trick kids like you into going to your deaths.”

“How old are you? Even if you’ve mastered what you just mentioned, do you know how dangerous the spiritual refining world outside is?”

Cao Erzhu shrank his neck, his eyes full of curiosity: “How dangerous?”

The giant in the back courtyard sighed deeply. This time, he didn't immediately start scolding, but spoke earnestly:

“Your Eighth Uncle can fight Grandmasters from birth and contend with Sacred Emperors in the Grand Void, yet he was still defeated and presumed dead for decades. So, how dangerous do you think it is out there? The world of spiritual refining is teeming with geniuses like your Eighth Uncle! And your Eighth Uncle, back then, still couldn't defeat me! Can you defeat me? If not, are you just going out there to be cannon fodder?”

Cao Erzhu mumbled obediently. He couldn’t even defeat his father with one hand, so how could he possibly defeat those geniuses outside? But according to street rumors, it seemed there weren’t that many geniuses like Eighth Uncle, were there?

The cloaked giant in the back courtyard seemed to know his child’s thoughts. He snorted, his voice rumbling like thunder, shaking the ceiling and dislodging dust:

“What good is listening to the nonsense of your neighbors? Your old man and your Eighth Uncle are from the same era. You won’t listen to me, but you’ll listen to legends?”

Cao Erzhu felt ashamed. His father’s words made so much sense and were quite profound. The giant in the back courtyard seemed determined to completely dissuade his child from leaving home. After a pause, he asked again, “Have you mastered the Thunder-elemental Arcane Art?”

“Still, still a little short,” Cao Erzhu said, his face reddening with humble shame.

“Hmph! You haven’t even mastered an Arcane Art, and you want to go out and make a name for yourself?”

His father’s sarcastic voice was as piercing as ever:

“The outside world is filled with Arcane Arts! I can casually give you examples like Eight Revered Ones and Yu Mo—just imagine how terrifying those people are? Geniuses are everywhere; what are you going out there for? You haven’t even mastered a mere Arcane Art, and you have the nerve to say you want to go out? You don't even know how to write the word ‘death’!”

Cao Erzhu listened, tears welling in his eyes. He finally abandoned his absurd idea. The world of spiritual refining was truly terrifying.

“I understand…”

“Don’t even think about going out. I’m out of wine. Go fetch some from the cellar.”

“Oh, alright.”

Watching his little one descend into the basement, Cao Yihan fell into contemplation.

“A hundred generations for my Eight Revered Ones…”

“Heh, how arrogant! Is he declaring his return?”

He shifted, attempting to stand. But as his body moved, the sacred energy in his Qi Sea roared like thunder, threatening to awaken. A surge of immense power erupted from his limbs, as if trying to break through layers of shackles…

“Damn it!”

Cao Yihan cursed angrily, then settled back into a half-reclined position. The more he thought, the angrier he became. He ripped off the iron collar around his neck, from which hung nine tokens, each inscribed with the character “Forbidden.” He clenched his hand, ready to crush them in frustration. But in the end, Cao Yihan held back.

“This bullshit Martial Arts Prohibition Order, not even nine of them can suppress the Half-Saint realm. Dao Qiongcang, you’re useless!” The giant in the back courtyard pointed at the ceiling and roared:

“Flashy old Daoist, if you want me to stay put, send more wine!”

At the same time.

Because of a Sacred Emperor’s Golden Edict, because of the phrase “A hundred generations for my Eight Revered Ones.”

Almost everyone from the previous era recognized this declaration:

“I have returned!”

This time, it wasn't just a quiet word spoken to the Sacred Temple, nor was it a vague figure lurking behind the clashes of saints, acting as the mastermind. Instead, it was a grand, open declaration: Saint Slave Eight Revered Ones solemnly announced to all five regions of the continent:

“I have returned!”

If the lingering echoes of sacred power erupting treasures in the Yunlun Mountain Range had previously given the world an illusory, ephemeral image, making many wonder but hesitate to confirm if Eight Revered Ones had truly recovered from his fallen state, then with this Sacred Emperor’s Golden Edict, no one doubted it any longer! Swordsmen in the Eastern Region were reveling, while the Half-Saints in all five regions trembled in fear…

Meanwhile, Eight Revered Ones, the instigator himself, after making his declaration high above Lone Sound Cliff, lost the protection of the Sacred Emperor’s power and plummeted like a falling meteor, crashing straight back down.

“How unlucky.”

A second ago, Water Ghost was still immersed in the grandeur and atmosphere created by Eight Revered Ones. The next second, watching the unceremonious crash of “Old Eight Sword Immortal,” his mouth twisted in irritation.

So weak!

With a flick of his hand, a current of water caught the helpless Eight Revered Ones, preventing him from splattering to his death. Water Ghost let out a long sigh.

“Water, water…”

Eight Revered Ones seemed completely drained. After getting up, his voice was so weak it barely held any strength. Cen Qiaofu covered his face as he handed over a flask of medicinal wine, not uttering a single word, seemingly ashamed by the current state of the one who had just issued the Sacred Emperor’s Golden Edict.

“Gulp, gulp,”

Eight Revered Ones gulped down several mouthfuls of the medicinal wine before his weakened body felt some strength return. He finally no longer looked like a spineless weakling.

“Rumble, rumble, rumble…”

A resounding blast echoed in the air. Eight Revered Ones looked up. The Sky City, falling from the heavens, was hurtling towards their location. The ancient city descended at an extremely fast pace. It would likely crush everyone there in less than half an incense stick’s time.

“It’s time to close the net.”

Eight Revered Ones turned his gaze to Water Ghost.

“Y-y-you…”

Water Ghost hadn’t moved yet when an ill-timed voice spoke from the side. Eight Revered Ones froze, then looked over. He saw a one-armed, limping old man who had been forced back into his true form by the Sacred Emperor’s aura. He was now flushed with excitement. His fingers were all in his mouth, his legs pressed tightly together, and he bounced up and down incessantly, like a giddy young girl.

Seeing his idol look his way, the old man’s eyes widened even further, glowing like light bulbs, sparkling with fervent adoration, and white steam began to rise from his scalp.

“Y-y-you…” Xiu Yuanke was too excited to form a complete sentence.

“?” Eight Revered Ones raised an eyebrow.

“I-I-I…” Xiu Yuanke nearly fainted on the spot.

Eight Revered Ones took a long breath, gave the stranger a deep look, then turned to Cen Qiaofu and Water Ghost.

“Who’s this stutterer?”