Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 558: Forging a Perfect Blade (5)

A clear and crystalline sound spread through the workshop, long, steady, without the slightest strange vibration. It was the sound of perfection.

Sun Luguo slowly closed his eyes, his calloused fingers running along the entire length of the sword.

He was not merely touching it but feeling it. It was as if he were evaluating something invisible. Silence filled the forge, broken only by the crackling of the flames.

Kyrian remained motionless, waiting, his heart beating a little faster.

After nearly a minute, Sun Luguo slowly opened his eyes. A smile appeared beneath his beard, small but completely sincere.

“Perfect.”

The word was spoken calmly, yet it seemed to carry more weight than any praise Kyrian had ever received. It was the acknowledgment of a master, the validation of hours of work and learning.

The old man raised the sword once more, his eyes shining with a pride that was not only for his apprentice but for the craft itself.

“Perfect balance.” He ran a finger along the side.

“Uniform internal structure.” He examined the edge.

“Flawless cut.”

Then he smiled, a smile that brightened his wrinkled face.

“I would put this sword up for sale in my own shop. I would never sell anything inferior to it.”

Kyrian slowly let out his breath, only then realizing that he had been holding it throughout the entire evaluation.

A quiet sense of satisfaction arose within him, not pride nor arrogance, but the pleasant feeling of having taken another step along his path.

Sun Luguo carefully placed the sword on the workbench, as though he were laying down a sacred relic. Then he walked to an old, dark wooden chest hidden in the corner of the workshop, covered in layers of dust. He pulled a heavy key from his belt.

‘Click.’

The lid slowly opened with a creak, groaning beneath the weight of the years. Inside rested numerous ancient books, some extremely worn, their pages yellowed and their covers weathered, while others were surprisingly well preserved, as if they had been carefully protected.

The old man ran his fingers across several of them with familiar affection before pulling out a particularly thick volume.

Its cover was made of leather darkened by time, marked with scratches and stains. The edges of the pages bore countless signs of use. Clearly, that book had been opened and reread innumerable times.

Sun Luguo approached Kyrian, his heavy footsteps echoing across the stone floor. He held out the volume.

“Take it.”

Kyrian accepted the book with both hands, feeling its weight. It was far heavier than it appeared, as though the knowledge contained within possessed a weight of its own.

There was no title on the cover, only a small embossed symbol, a hammer crossed with a sword, the emblem of a forge that transcended time.

“I’ve been writing this for decades,” Sun Luguo said calmly, his hoarse voice carrying the weight of history.

“Everything I consider important is in there. Every lesson I’ve learned, every mistake I’ve made, every discovery I’ve made over the years.”

Kyrian carefully opened a few pages, his violet eyes scanning the contents.

Extremely detailed drawings filled the book, swords of every kind, curved and straight sabers, spears with intricate heads, battle axes, plate armor, ornate shields, and tools of every size.

Each page contained countless notes: ideal temperature, number of hammer strikes, cooling methods, polishing techniques, the most common mistakes, and small handwritten observations filling the margins. It was obvious that this book represented decades of accumulated experience, the wisdom of an entire lifetime devoted to the art of forging.

Sun Luguo continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

“There are more than a thousand different designs in there. They’re all common items, weapons, and equipment that any blacksmith can make. None of them contain spiritual inscriptions, nothing that requires special knowledge. But every single one has been refined countless times until it reached what I consider perfection. Every measurement, every angle, every curve has been tested and adjusted until no flaws remained.”

Kyrian slowly closed the book, his fingers still resting on the leather cover. His expression turned serious. Receiving that volume meant far more than receiving knowledge. It meant trust, a legacy being passed on.

Sun Luguo looked directly at him, his aged eyes meeting Kyrian’s violet ones.

“Your foundation is solid. With enough practice and careful study, it won’t be long before you can forge any ordinary weapon perfectly.”

The old man smiled again, a smile that promised new challenges.

“And that means…” He raised a finger, emphasizing what came next.

“That tomorrow, we’ll finally stop playing around.”

Kyrian subtly raised an eyebrow, a spark of curiosity appearing in his eyes.

Sun Luguo turned toward the massive furnace, warming his hands over the flames. His eyes reflected the firelight, as though seeing something beyond the flames themselves.

“Tomorrow… we’ll begin forging Low-Grade Spiritual Weapons. The true path of a blacksmith begins there, when metal ceases to be merely metal and becomes a conduit for energy, an extension of the cultivator’s will.”

Kyrian carefully closed the book and stored it inside his spatial ring, the volume disappearing in a flash of light. Then he bowed deeply, a gesture of genuine respect.

“Thank you… Master.”

A loud laugh echoed throughout the workshop, Sun Luguo’s rough voice filling the space.

“Hahaha! Off you go, kid. It’s already getting dark, and you’ve got better things to do than stand here listening to an old man ramble.”

Kyrian blinked for a moment, surprised that Sun Luguo knew about his plans.

Then he simply smiled faintly without answering. He turned and opened the door to the forge.

The cool night breeze immediately swept into the workshop, carrying with it the scents of the Sky Caravan after dark, night-blooming flowers, street food, and the subtle aura of thousands of cultivators.

Outside, spiritual lanterns already illuminated the streets with a soft, colorful glow, transforming the city into something out of a fairy tale.

The sky was covered with the first stars, dotting the deep blue with countless points of light.

And as he walked toward the main square, his steps steady and determined, a quiet anticipation began to bloom within his heart. Night had fallen over the Sky Caravan, and with it came the promise of their meeting.

For the first time, he would meet Gao Ziyue outside Azhura’k’s domain. The thought warmed his chest in a way he had not expected.

The night was only just beginning.

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The Luckiest One Beyond the Heavens

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The Luckiest One Beyond the Heavens