The suffocating silence that had locked down the three-league expanse of the Grand Exhibition Plaza slowly, agonizingly fractured.
Like the first hairline fissures spreading across an ancient glacier, a low, trembling murmur rose from the fifty thousand spectators packed into the rising basalt tiers of Sacred Flame Peak. Disciples, master craftsmen, and venerable elders from all ten major sects leaned forward in their stone seats, their breath catching in their throats as they stared at the two plainspoken sentences floating high in the afternoon sky:
**"The domain was not added to the weapon."**
**"The weapon was forged into a shape that allowed the domain to exist."**
Up on the White Basalt Terrace, the Judgment Council was plunged into intense, feverish deliberation.
Grand Elder Yan Lie of the Scarlet Sun Palace, his earlier smugness shattered, stood up with a dark, twisted scowl. "Absurd!" Yan Lie snarled, gesturing angrily toward the plain grey-robed youth on the platform steps. "Sect Master Xuan Yuan, Brother Duan, are we running a continental forging tournament or a philosophy debate for mortal scholars?! The boy presented no runic energy flow models! He submitted no resonance formulas! To claim that the physical shape created the domain is nothing more than unproven, poetic speculation!"
"Unproven?"
Elder Duan's voice rolled across the terrace like the deep, immovable rumble of an earthquake.
The silver-haired Grand Domain Smith turned his ancient, piercing gaze upon Yan Lie. "Grand Elder Yan Lie, for three days your disciples have searched for the external array that powers the domain. You found thermal circulation; you found overlapping fire cycles. Yet, you could not explain why those fire cycles do not tear the obsidian apart, nor could you explain why there is not a single rune engraved upon its surface."
Elder Duan raised his hand, pointing directly at the dark mace resting on the frost-jade plinth below.
"Core Smith Mu Tie's thesis explains both. The seventy-two-strike Ironblood compression created an internal geometric lattice that naturally stabilizes the thermal cycles. The physical vessel *is* the anchor. The math is not absent—it is etched directly into the mineral grain itself."
The chief appraiser from the Star River Alliance, adjusting his crystal monocle with trembling hands, nodded vigorously in agreement. "The Star River Alliance's assessment aligns with Grand Domain Smith Duan. The structural genesis model resolves the fundamental contradiction of the weapon. It is authenticated as a sovereign breakthrough."
*DONG——!*
The ancient bronze bell chimed with thunderous finality.
Elder Duan raised his wide sleeves, announcing the official ruling to the entire caldera:
"Core Smith Mu Tie of the Ironblood Faction has uncovered the structural origin of the Volcanic Eruption Domain! A Major Discovery is hereby awarded to Black Tortoise Mountain!"
*BOOM——!*
The colossal, three-dimensional scoreboard projected across the clouds of Sacred Flame Peak flared with blinding golden light, updating in full view of the thirty-four counties:
*Scarlet Sun Palace: 2 Major Discoveries (Self-Circulating Loop, Three Overlapping Destructive Cycles)*
*Black Tortoise Mountain: 2 Major Discoveries (Directional Density Gradient, Structural Domain Genesis)*
The scoreboard was deadlocked at **2–2**!
Tens of thousands of Black Tortoise disciples leaped out of their seats, roaring with wild, thunderous ecstasy that shook the volcanic dust from the stadium walls. Banners of black and gold were thrust into the sky, heavy-forging hammers were slammed against stone balustrades, and the entire host sect erupted into celebratory delirium.
Yet, to the discerning grandmasters watching from the VIP lodges, everyone understood the unspoken truth: while the numerical points were formally tied, Mu Tie's discovery occupied the greater, foundational reality of the craft. Huo Zhen had mapped the symptoms of the fire, but Mu Tie had uncovered the very soul of the obsidian mace.
***
High upon the White Basalt Terrace, the seven Master Smiths of the Heavenly Forge Division stood huddled around Sect Master Xuan Yuan and Elder Duan.
Elder Huo stood with his massive chest heaving, his weathered face practically glowing with uncontainable, radiant pride. He looked down at "Mu Tie," who had returned to his seat in the lower eastern tiers and was calmly pouring himself another cup of roasted barley tea as if nothing of consequence had happened.
"Huo," one of the division elders whispered in utter bewilderment, rubbing his temples, "where in the heavens did you find this boy? He's been in your faction for more than ten years, living in that rundown cave on Peak 74, yet he understands the seventy-two-strike compression better than our veteran division deacons!"
"Hmph! That's what true talent looks like!" Elder Huo boasted loudly, puffing out his thick beard, though internally his mind was just as baffled. *I only told the lad to go up there and broaden his horizons... I didn't expect him to flip the whole chess board upside down!*
However, Sect Master Xuan Yuan remained motionless, his molten eyes staring intently across the caldera toward the frustrated, calculating figures of Grand Elder Yan Lie and Huo Zhen.
"A tie is not enough," Xuan Yuan spoke, his deep voice slicing through the chatter of the elders.
The division masters fell silent, turning to look at their sect master.
"The foreign sects are already regrouping," Xuan Yuan said, his gaze hard and uncompromising. "Scarlet Sun Palace has not surrendered. They will pool the collective knowledge of all their elders to construct a desperate, all-out thesis for the final round. If this gathering ends in an unresolved tie, the continent will say that Black Tortoise Mountain could only defend a draw on our own home turf."
Xuan Yuan stepped toward the edge of the terrace balustrade, looking down at the thirty-two elite Core Smiths gathered below.
"We must force the decisive conclusion," Xuan Yuan declared, a cold, sovereign resolve radiating from his Domain Forging aura. "We must raise the stakes so high that whoever stands at the summit shall claim undisputed continental supremacy."
Grand Domain Smith Elder Duan looked at Xuan Yuan, his silver brows lifting slightly. "You intend to place the great wager?"
"I do," Xuan Yuan replied.
Without waiting another breath, Sect Master Xuan Yuan channeled his vast spiritual energy into his voice.
*BOOM——!*
A terrifying, mountain-like domain pressure descended over the three leagues of Sacred Flame Peak, instantly silencing the fifty thousand cheering spectators. The chaotic noise of the arena vanished, replaced by an absolute, reverent hush as the entire stadium turned its eyes toward the ruler of Black Tortoise Mountain.
"Cultivators of the Demon Immortal Continent!" Sect Master Xuan Yuan's voice resonated like rolling thunder through the very marrow of everyone present.
"For three days, the finest young artisans of our era have crossed hammers upon the white-jade stage. The mysteries of the *Volcanic Annihilation* have pushed our understanding of the Dao to unprecedented heights."
Xuan Yuan's eyes swept across the thirty-two Core Smiths standing at the base of the platform.
"The final decisive phase of The Annihilation Analysis Gathering shall now commence. To honor the supreme master who forged this artifact, and to reward the artisan who can pierce through all illusions..."
Xuan Yuan paused, his voice dropping into a solemn, earth-shaking declaration:
"The Core Smith who surpasses the current highest analysis, unravels the ultimate unified foundation of this weapon, and delivers the decisive final treatise... shall NOT merely receive the three thousand High-Grade Spirit Stones."
Xuan Yuan raised his right hand, pointing toward the sky.
"Black Tortoise Mountain, in agreement with the Judgment Council, shall directly confer upon that crafter the title, authority, and sovereign status of a **Rank 3 Master Smith**!"
***
*BOOM——!*
The entire grand caldera erupted as if a cosmic star had detonated within the crater!
Over fifty thousand cultivators surged to their feet in utter, mind-shattering shock. Disciples screamed in disbelief, division deacons gasped with wide eyes, and even the solemn domain elders from the Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect and Heavenly Sword Lake gripped their armrests in sheer astonishment!
"Direct promotion to Master Smith?!"
"Heavens above! A Master Smith at the Core Formation realm?!"
"To achieve the rank of Master Smith normally requires a century of grueling accumulation, crafting hundreds of high-grade spiritual weapons, and passing the rigorous trials of the grand division councils! Bestowing it directly upon a young Core Smith right here on the stage... this is unprecedented in the entire ten-thousand-year history of the Demon Immortal Continent!"
In the southern VIP lodge, Grand Elder Yan Lie's eyes burned with sudden, fanatical hunger.
A Master Smith!
If a disciple from Scarlet Sun Palace was officially recognized as a Master Smith on Black Tortoise Mountain's own sacred peak, Scarlet Sun Palace would possess the supreme moral and crafting authority across the entire southern continent!
"Huo Zhen!" Yan Lie hissed, turning to his top disciple with blazing, crimson eyes. "Did you hear that?! The title of Master Smith! You must mobilize every shred of your divine sense, burn your core essence if you must, and seize that title for our palace!"
Beside him, Huo Zhen's fists clenched until his knuckles bled, his veins pulsing with mad, wild ambition. "Disciple obeys! I will tear the remaining secrets from that mace!"
***
Meanwhile, down in the lower eastern tiers, the Ironblood seating had completely descended into chaos.
Senior Brother Ma Teng was practically hyperventilating, grabbing Fang Lin by the shoulders and shaking him violently. "Brother Mu! Did you hear that?! A Master Smith! A Rank 3 Master Smith! Heavens, if one of our Ironblood disciples becomes a Master Smith, our division will receive ten times the annual resource allocation from the main sect! There is no Master Smith in Ironblood faction other than Elder Huo."
Disciples were cheering, shouting, and slapping each other on the back in absolute hysteria.
Yet, sitting calmly amidst the roaring madness, "Mu Tie"—Fang Lin—simply looked up at the golden characters burning in the clouds above.
Slowly, imperceptibly... Fang Lin's dark eyes **quietly brightened**.
A subtle, sharp glint flashed deep within his pupils.
*Master Smith...*
Inside his mind, the wheels of calculation began to turn with cold, crystalline precision.
Until this very moment, Fang Lin had been entirely content to play the role of an unassuming, lazy helper. He had entered the gathering purely out of gratitude toward Elder Huo, intending to secure a modest passing score and blend into the background to avoid drawing the dangerous scrutiny of foreign Spirit Manifestation elders.
Fame meant nothing to him. Sect prestige was irrelevant.
However, the title of **Master Smith** was an entirely different matter.
As an ordinary Rank 2 Core Smith, "Mu Tie" was bound by the tedious bureaucracy of Black Tortoise Mountain. Every pound of rare ore he requested required three deacon stamps; his forge cave was subject to periodic division inspections; and access to the sacred mineral veins and the high-tier spatial resource vaults was strictly prohibited to low-level disciples.
If he wanted to refine the Spatial Piercing Boat, advance his own divine artifacts, or acquire the rare spatial ores necessary to stabilize his tetra-core cultivation, and finally know the secrets of the Old Vitality leaf, he was forced to sneak out of the sect or rely on roundabout black-market trades through the Star River Alliance.
But if he possessed the sovereign status of a **Rank 3 Master Smith**?
A Master Smith answered directly to the Sect Master and the Grand Domain Smiths.
A Master Smith was granted an independent, private mountain caldera with complete forge autonomy and zero deacon oversight.
Most importantly, a Master Smith enjoyed an unrestricted annual quota to draw from the deepest ancestral vaults of Black Tortoise Mountain—access to high-grade spatial crystals, ancient meteoritic iron, and rare subterranean spirit veins without a single person questioning why he needed them and many other benefits!
This was not empty prestige.
This was the absolute, ultimate key to unrestricted cultivation wealth and sovereign crafting freedom.
*Master Smith...* Fang Lin thought, a genuine, predatory smile tugging at the absolute depths of his mind. *This is exactly what I need.*
Inside his soul sea, the Dark Flame Spirit was rolling on its fiery throne, laughing with wicked, uncontrollable glee.
*Hahahahaha! Look at that greedy glint in your eyes, kid!* the spirit cackled, clapping its spectral hands in delight. *The turtles just placed their entire treasure vault right on your dinner plate and invited you to eat! Are you still going to pretend to be an innocent little helper now?!*
*Pretending was for when there was nothing worth taking,* Fang Lin replied calmly in his soul sea, setting down his cup as a terrifying, sovereign stillness settled over his heart. *Since they are offering the keys to the mountain, it would be rude of me not to accept.*
High above on the White Basalt Terrace, the ancient bronze bell chimed for the start of the final decisive phase.
Down in the dusty eastern stands, the unassuming "Mu Tie" slowly rose from his wooden bench, his faded grey robes fluttering in the rising caldera wind as the true master of the anvil prepared to step onto the stage for the final time.
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