Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 508: First Blacksmithing Lesson (5)

"Your goal today..." Sun Luguo continued, his voice returning to its instructive tone.

"Is not to create a Spiritual Weapon. Nor a masterpiece. I only want you to understand the process. Feel the metal in your hands. Understand how it responds to heat and the hammer."

Kyrian nodded, his eyes still fixed on the sword.

"Yes, Master."

Sun Luguo pointed to a pile of ingots beside the workbench.

"Choose one."

Kyrian walked over to the bench, his eyes scanning the ingots. There were dozens of them, each with slightly different characteristics.

Before even touching any of them, he focused his special eyes once more, activating his enhanced vision.

The ingots revealed themselves to him in all their complexity. Some were filled with impurities, dark spots scattered throughout their structure. Others had visible internal stresses, regions where the metal had cooled unevenly.

Then, his eyes settled on a particular ingot. Its structure was cleaner, more uniform. There were fewer impurities, and fewer internal stresses.

Kyrian smiled faintly.

"This one has fewer impurities."

He picked up the ingot, feeling its weight in his hands.

Sun Luguo raised an eyebrow, his voice curious.

"Why did you choose that one?"

"Its structure seems more uniform," Kyrian replied calmly.

"There are fewer impurities, and the internal stresses are lower."

The old man simply smiled, a silent smile of approval.

’He can even perceive that...’

He said nothing, merely gesturing for Kyrian to begin.

Kyrian approached the furnace, feeling the intense heat against his face. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the hot air.

He picked up the long pair of tongs, his fingers gripping the handle firmly. Carefully, he placed the ingot into the flames, positioning it at the exact center of the furnace.

This time, he did not simply wait. He carefully observed the internal changes, his special eyes recording every transformation.

He watched the heat penetrate the metal, spreading slowly from the outside inward. The colors shifted, dark, red, and orange. The internal stresses diminished as the heat spread evenly.

When he judged it ready, when the entire interior of the ingot had reached a uniform temperature, he removed the metal.

He placed it on the anvil, carefully adjusting its angle.

He gripped the hammer Sun Luguo had used. It was heavy. Even with his physical strength, Kyrian felt the concentrated weight in the tool’s metal head.

He breathed. Raised his arm. Then struck.

’CLANG!’

The impact made his arms vibrate, the force of the blow reverberating through his bones. The metal deformed more than it should have, compressing excessively under the strength of his strike.

Kyrian frowned slightly.

’Too much force.’

Second strike.

’CLANG!’

This time, he struck at a poor angle. The ingot rotated on the anvil, and part of the impact was wasted.

Third. Fourth. Fifth.

His rhythm was uneven. The impacts varied in strength, some too powerful, others too weak. Some precise, others poorly aimed.

When he finally finished the first sequence, the metal’s structure had improved.

But not by much.

Sun Luguo walked slowly toward him, his heavy footsteps echoing across the stone floor. He examined the piece, his experienced eyes taking in every detail.

Then he looked at Kyrian.

"What do you think?"

Kyrian analyzed his own work, his special eyes scanning the metal’s structure. It did not take long to find numerous flaws.

"I used too much force," he said thoughtfully.

"Several areas were compressed too much. I also lost my rhythm. There were moments when my strikes didn’t follow a logical sequence. And I struck several places I shouldn’t have, creating unnecessary deformations."

Sun Luguo smiled, a smile of approval.

"Exactly."

He took the hammer from his disciple’s hands, holding it effortlessly.

"Strength doesn’t create good weapons." He gave the anvil a light tap, the sound echoing like a bell.

"But control does."

He handed the tool back.

"Do it again."

Kyrian did not complain. There was no frustration on his face, only determination.

He simply picked up another ingot and repeated the process.

This time, he breathed before every strike, synchronizing his breathing with his movements. He tried to replicate the exact rhythm his master had used, the hypnotic cadence that made every blow part of a continuous dance.

’CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.’

His movements became much steadier, much more controlled. His eyes guided every strike, adjusting the angle at the last instant, correcting the force as the hammer descended.

He struck precisely the regions where the impurities were still most concentrated, using each impact to push them toward the surface. His eyes saw every air bubble, every unevenly distributed stress, and his strikes corrected them.

Little by little, the metal began responding better. Its structure became more uniform, the impurities dissipated, and the internal stresses balanced themselves.

Sun Luguo observed everything in silence, his arms crossed over his chest. The more he watched, the more impressed he became.

’He learns far too quickly.’

The second sword took shape. It was much better than the first, more uniform, more balanced. Kyrian had learned from his mistakes, refining his technique with every strike.

However, during the quenching process, when he plunged the heated blade into the bucket of water, a fine crack appeared near the base, invisible to the naked eye but clearly visible to his special eyes.

Kyrian noticed it immediately.

He sighed, a sigh of restrained frustration.

"I failed."

Sun Luguo shook his head, a gesture Kyrian did not immediately understand.

"No." The old man picked up the sword, examining the crack with experienced eyes.

"You learned."

He pointed at the small fracture, tracing its length with his finger.

"The mistake is here. The sudden change in temperature built up stress. You submerged the blade too quickly, without giving the cooling enough time to spread evenly."

He looked at Kyrian once more.

"Now you know what not to do."

Those words made Kyrian reflect. It was true. Even failure had value, as long as it was understood. Every mistake was a lesson, every flaw was a step toward mastery.

He picked up a third ingot, his fingers closing around the metal with determination.

He breathed slowly, calming his mind and focusing his attention.

This time, he was in no hurry. He observed the heat, sensing it penetrate the metal. He waited patiently until every part of the ingot had reached the ideal temperature.