Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 504: First Blacksmithing Lesson

The heat intensified even further as Kyrian advanced deeper into the workshop.

The heavy iron door closed behind them with a deep, resonant sound, metal grinding against metal in a profound echo that reverberated through the stone walls.

The outside world was instantly cut off. The sounds of the street, the voices of customers, and the constant bustle of the Sky Caravan vanished as though they had never existed.

Only the steady crackling of the flames remained, the occasional sound of metal being heated, and a faint spiritual hum coming from the various furnaces scattered throughout the workshop. It was a continuous, almost hypnotic sound, like the breathing of a living creature.

Kyrian walked slowly, his violet eyes sweeping across every corner of the place.

It was the first time he had entered the true workshop of a master blacksmith. The shop’s display area, with its gleaming weapons and elegant showcases, was merely the façade, the beautiful wrapping that concealed the true heart of the craft.

Everything here conveyed a feeling completely different from the elegant display area at the front of the shop. This was the part customers almost never saw. The place where weapons were truly born, where metal was transformed, where the art of blacksmithing existed in its purest form.

The floor was made of enormous slabs of black stone, each at least half a meter thick. Some were marked by fine cracks caused by the heat of countless years of work, cracks that told stories of blazing forges, molten metal, and endless hours of labor.

Others bore metallic stains left by constant contact with molten steel, marks that gleamed beneath the furnace light like silver scars.

The ceiling was high, rising more than five meters above the floor. Several openings allowed part of the smoke to escape slowly outside, although a thin haze still lingered over the entire workshop, an eternal cloud of metal particles and heat.

Sunlight streamed through those openings in diagonal beams, illuminating specks of dust floating through the air like tiny stars.

The heat caused the air to ripple continuously. It was like looking at the landscape through a layer of clear water, the shapes gently distorting as the heat rose from the furnaces and spread throughout the workshop.

Kyrian felt sweat beginning to form on his forehead. His body, strengthened by cultivation and the reconstruction of the Bone of Heaven, was far more resistant to heat than that of an ordinary human, yet even so, the intensity of the environment was remarkable.

The flame burning within one of the workshop’s furnaces was a spiritual flame powerful enough that only Sun Luguo could use it.

A flame that even affected Kyrian.

Which demonstrated that his new master’s cultivation was truly terrifying.

With every breath, the scorching air filled his lungs, and he could feel the thermal energy seeping through his skin.

The walls held dozens of racks filled with hammers of completely different shapes.

Large ones, small ones, square-headed ones, and rounded ones. Some had only a single striking face, designed for precise and controlled blows.

Others possessed two, three, or even four distinct ends, each with a specific purpose, one for forging, another for shaping, another for texturing, and another for smoothing.

Kyrian spent several seconds studying them, his eyes tracing every shape and every curve.

’Each one has a different purpose...’

Until that moment, he had never imagined so many different kinds of hammers existed.

In his mind, a hammer had simply been a hammer, a simple tool, a block of metal attached to a wooden handle. But that collection revealed a level of complexity he had never considered.

Beside them were long tongs, some straight, others curved, some with fine claws for holding delicate pieces, others with wide jaws designed to grip massive blocks.

Files of every size, their rough surfaces gleaming beneath the light. Whetstones, some so fine they appeared as smooth as glass, others so coarse they looked capable of tearing skin apart.

Chisels of various widths, containers filled with metallic powders, small carving knives, and numerous other tools whose purpose he could not even begin to imagine.

Along one wall, enormous shelves supported dozens of ingots arranged by size and color.

Some were completely black, absorbing light like bottomless pits. Others possessed a silvery sheen, reflecting the furnace light into thousands of tiny points.

Some displayed faint bluish spots that seemed to pulse subtly, as though they possessed a life of their own. Others contained golden, crimson, or emerald veins, each color indicating a different composition and a different origin.

Farther ahead were unrefined ores. Irregular stones filled with impurities, waiting to be refined. Some were so large they would have to be broken apart before they could be used. Others were so small they barely filled the palm of a hand.

Kyrian could feel the Qi emanating from many of those materials. It was not organized Qi like that of a cultivator, flowing through meridians and dantians.

It was raw, heavy, and unstable, the untamed energy of the earth, unrefined and undirected.

As though each piece of ore concealed a dormant energy waiting to be awakened.

’Interesting...’

His gaze lingered on a bluish crystal for several moments. The stone was irregular, with sharp edges, yet there was undeniable beauty within its internal structure.

Tiny inclusions of other minerals formed intricate patterns inside the crystal, as though nature itself had painted a miniature work of art.

Even without touching it, Kyrian could sense that the energy inside flowed slowly in natural patterns.

It was similar to the way a cultivator’s meridians functioned, a network of channels through which energy flowed, connecting different parts of a greater whole.

Only... much simpler. More primitive. Like the meridians of an infant before beginning cultivation.

’So even materials possess their own flow of energy...’

That thought caused his eyes to gleam faintly, a spark of understanding illuminating his mind.

Perhaps that was precisely why certain metals were more compatible with particular attributes. It was not merely a matter of strength or durability; there was an energetic compatibility, a natural affinity between the material and the type of Qi.