Forging Immortality: The Undying Blacksmith

Chapter 6: Thousand-Man Commander

*Clang!*

With one final, ringing strike of the hammer, the sickle on the forge took its final shape. Its blade glowed a fierce, cherry-red, shimmering with intense heat.

Li Qing carefully plunged the last of the forged sickles into the quenching trough. The water hissed violently, erupting in a cloud of steam and roiling bubbles.

Once the metal had cooled, a familiar prompt materialized in his vision.

[Successfully forged Farming Tool: Black Iron Sickle. Reward: 1 Day of Lifespan!]

Just one day.

Perhaps because it was a mere farming tool, the reward was pitifully small. But quantity had a quality all its own. Li Qing had forged twenty-three sickles in a single session, successfully harvesting twenty-three days of Lifespan.

What would have taken him at least three grueling days of labor before, he had now accomplished in one. And the quality of every single blade was impeccable.

“A farming tool for cutting Black Wheat Mushrooms, sure, but this blade is sharper than half the weapons in this camp,” Li Qing grumbled internally. “And all I get is one day? Stingy.”

He carefully set aside the cooled sickles. Night was falling, and he had no intention of keeping them in his tent for long. Once the camp was deep in slumber, he would transport them to the Extreme Night World and deliver the order.

After tidying his workspace, Li Qing exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, focusing inward. He could feel the blood thrumming through his veins, a powerful current that was smoother and stronger than ever before. Years of blacksmithing had given him a solid foundation, and Wu Chong’s extra meals had packed his frame with dense muscle.

Now, having just reached the Novice stage of his stance training, the results were tangible. In the past, a day of such high-intensity forging would have left him so exhausted he could barely lift his arms. Now, he felt a deep well of stamina he’d never possessed, his body brimming with energy.

Setting down his hammer, Li Qing grabbed two meal bowls and headed for the mess tent as usual.

The cook on duty tonight was not his usual acquaintance. This one was a portly man with a greasy face and the well-fed look of a minor official. Li Qing had hoped to pry some news about the army from Fatty Wu, but he immediately scrapped the idea.

His current persona was that of a simple, law-abiding blacksmith’s apprentice. Prying into matters beyond the forge was a good way to attract unwanted attention.

He had his bowls filled to the brim and left without a word.

As he walked, the sound of approaching footsteps and hushed voices reached him.

“Damn horse bandits… ambushed the grain convoy and slaughtered everyone. Looks like we’ve got a real fight on our hands.”

“Thousand-Man Commander Yuan of the Mingzi Battalion is already mustering his troops. The Wuli Army won’t let this stand.”

“Shh, keep it down. The Hundred-Man Commander said not to spread it around. Bad for morale.”

Li Qing’s hearing had always been sharp, and he caught every word. He kept his expression neutral, his pace steady, and continued toward his tent as if he’d heard nothing at all.

After delivering a bowl of food to his master, Li Qing saw that the old man’s condition had worsened. Master Gu’s vitality was fading, his breath a shallow, thread-like whisper. With every wracking cough, Li Qing feared the old man’s life would finally sputter out. It was the unmistakable sign of life reaching its end.

“I can’t eat,” Master Gu rasped, his voice weak from his cot. “You’ve started your training. You need the strength more than I do. From now on… my portion is yours. *Cough, cough!*”

Li Qing’s expression flickered with emotion. “Master, how could I do that!”

But Master Gu didn’t even look at him, his gaze lost somewhere far away. “It’s a waste otherwise. The Wuli Army is about to go to war with the bandits. The Daliang Kingdom will probably get involved too… This border is going to be hard to hold.”

“Master…” Li Qing trailed off, a complex mix of pity and pragmatism churning within him.

Seeing the great blacksmith reduced to this, a fire was lit in Li Qing’s heart. He would live longer. He used to think a century of life would be a fine achievement, but now, that ambition felt laughably small. For a martial artist, to wither away in old age was the ultimate tragedy.

He refused to suffer such a fate. He would live, he would grow stronger, and he would remain at his peak forever.

As this grim resolve solidified, Master Gu’s eyes suddenly snapped open, sharp and alert despite his state. “Who’s there?!” he demanded in a low growl.

*Someone’s here?*

Li Qing, who had sensed nothing, felt his heart hammer against his ribs.

A moment later, a confident, magnetic female voice sounded from outside the tent.

“As expected of Master Gu. Even on your deathbed, you remain keenly aware of everything in this camp.”

The tent flap was swept aside, and a tall figure clad in light armor strode in. She was striking, standing nearly six feet tall—the tallest woman Li Qing had ever seen. Her long hair was tied back neatly, revealing sharp, commanding features. Her every movement, from the set of her powerful legs to the straightness of her back, radiated an aura of crisp, martial authority.

“*Cough, cough…* This old one greets Lord Qian!” Master Gu recognized the visitor and struggled to sit up and offer a proper salute.

*Lord Qian? A woman?* Li Qing’s mind raced. *It has to be her—the female Thousand-Man Commander.* She was a living legend in the Wuli Army, a true heroine whose ferocity on the battlefield was said to rival any man’s. He had pictured a burly woman with arms like tree trunks, but the reality was far more intimidating. Her narrow eyes held a unique, piercing charm.

Li Qing quickly moved to bow, but the commander, Qian Hong, raised a hand. “Enough. There are no outsiders here. Dispense with the formalities.”

She walked to Master Gu’s bedside, her clear eyes sweeping over the dying blacksmith and his apprentice in a single, assessing glance.

“I wonder…” Master Gu began.

Qian Hong cut straight to the point. “I’ve come to ask for your help, Master Gu. I need you to reforge the Qinghong Sword.”

The old man’s eyes widened. “They found more of that special ore in the mines?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Qian Hong’s expression was grim as she nodded. “They did. But only a small amount, just enough for a single weapon. I nearly came to blows with the other two commanders to secure it.”

A bitter smile touched Master Gu’s lips. “Lord Qian, look at me. Do I seem capable of lifting a hammer?” He gestured weakly. “There are other smiths in the army. Perhaps…”

“Hmph!” A cold snort escaped her lips, and the sound alone sent a jolt through Li Qing, making his very blood shudder in his veins. “Those brutes have nothing but strength. Their technique is a pale shadow of yours. I wouldn’t trust them with common iron, let alone this ore.”

Li Qing, who had been trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible, was stunned. This woman could disrupt his blood flow with a mere sound. She was undeniably a powerful martial artist; no one could reach the rank of Thousand-Man Commander, let alone command such respect from her peers, without terrifying strength. Standing near her felt like being a rabbit in a lion’s den.

“*Cough, cough…* Then… let my apprentice try,” Master Gu wheezed. “He has learned seventy or eighty percent of my craft. He might just succeed.”

Li Qing’s heart leaped into his throat. He waved his hands frantically, his face a mask of panicked humility. “No, Master, I couldn’t! My skills are far too crude for such an important task!”

His immediate instinct was to refuse. This was a Thousand-Man Commander’s personal sword, a weapon of immense importance, to be forged from a rare, unknown ore. The risk was astronomical. Even if a successful forging granted him a massive amount of Lifespan, the last thing he wanted was to be on the radar of someone this powerful. Anonymity was his greatest shield.

Fortunately, Qian Hong seemed to agree. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze traveling down Li Qing’s frame and back up again with open skepticism.

Finally, she shook her head. “Forget it. I’ll find a master smith in another province. This boy looks even more frail than you do.”

With a sigh, she turned and strode out of the tent.

A hot flush of indignation crept up Li Qing’s neck. He, who had spent years swinging a hammer, had a body forged of iron and fire. To be called frail—weaker than a dying old man—was a sharp sting to his pride.

Master Gu, however, let out a dry chuckle. “Heh, don’t get worked up, boy. Lord Qian is a Hundred-Battle Realm expert who has cultivated Inner Force. She could crush you with one hand. From her perspective, you *are* frail.”

The terms “Inner Force” and “Hundred-Battle Realm” snagged Li Qing’s attention. He leaned in, his ears perked. “Master, what is Inner Force? And the Hundred-Battle Realm?”

Perhaps the visit had lifted his spirits, for Master Gu seemed willing to talk. “The path of martial arts has three major levels,” he explained. “First is Outer Force. Second is Inner Force. Third is Transformation Force.”

“In the martial world, an Outer Force expert is said to be in the Body Forging Realm. An Inner Force expert has reached the Hundred-Battle Realm. And anyone who can cultivate Transformation Force… they are true Grandmasters of the martial arts!”

*Gulp.* Li Qing swallowed hard, his eyes shining with a newfound yearning. He asked casually, “So, Master… what level am I? Am I an Outer Force expert yet?”

Master Gu rolled his eyes. “Outer Force expert? You? Don’t make me laugh. You’ve been holding a stance for what, a few days? You’re not even close.”

*So that’s the difference,* Li Qing thought. No wonder a single glance from Commander Qian had made him feel so small. The gap between them was wider than an ocean.

“Ah, it’s a shame you didn’t make a connection with Lord Qian today,” Master Gu mused. “If you had stepped up and successfully forged that sword for her, she might have taken you under her wing.”

Li Qing felt not a shred of regret. He scratched his head, putting on his most simple, honest expression. “Master, I’m doing fine as I am. I get to eat my fill and swing my hammer every day. That’s more than enough for me.”

“Blockhead,” Master Gu grumbled, before dissolving into another fit of coughing. He waved a dismissive hand, shooing Li Qing out of the tent.