As Liu Qingxu set her furnace and began the delicate task of tempering her Flowing Cloud Hairpin using the ambient spiritual fire, Shen Xian stepped away. His focus shifted inward, settling upon the reward held in his system’s stasis: the [Nine Heavens Artifact Refining True Explanation].

A legacy of the heavens… let us see how far this path goes.

He triggered the inheritance.

The world didn’t just fade; it shattered. It was as if a celestial river had breached its banks, pouring an endless torrent of golden runes directly into his Sea of Consciousness. Shen Xian’s vision was swept into a vast, astral forge. Before him, nine hundred and ninety-nine furnaces roared in unison, each demonstrating a different divine craft: the [Nine Cycles Division Refining Method] for purifying celestial marrow, the art of engraving runes into the very vacuum of space, and the manipulation of spirit fire into threads finer than a spider’s silk.

These were techniques that should have taken a mortal craftsman millennia to master. Yet, as the knowledge anchored itself in his mind, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him—as if these were not new lessons, but long-forgotten memories finally awakening.

Boom!

His Dantian surged. The surface of his Golden Core became etched with dense, glowing Dao patterns, each one vibrating with the profound insights of a Soul Formation-level Grandmaster. Nine hundred and ninety-nine weapon-runes wove themselves into a luminous net, turning his core into a brilliant, miniature star.

His body began to harmonize with the craft. His bones crackled and sang, his muscle and sinew restructuring for impossible precision. His fingers became long and tapering, sensitive enough to feel the heartbeat of spiritual power in raw ore. Deep within his pupils, double golden rings manifested, allowing him to peer through the physical shell of any material to see its spiritual marrow.

He had reached the realm of a Fifth-Rank Artifact Refining Grandmaster.

Shen Xian exhaled, a sense of absolute clarity washing over him. To a master of this rank, the body itself was an artifact, and the act of forging was an act of cultivation. Every gesture he made now carried the weight of the Artifact Dao. With a casual flick of his wrist, nine refining runes condensed in the air, floating like obedient spirits.

He glanced at Liu Qingxu. In an instant, he saw the minute flaws in her hairpin’s array—the jagged edges of her spiritual flow, the inefficient heat distribution. With a thought, he could have forged a treasure that would make her master weep with envy, but he remained silent, savoring the terrifying potency of his new inheritance.

“Now,” he whispered, his five fingers spreading wide. “Let us put this to the test.”

The [Sky-Burning Cauldron] rose into the air, its crimson etchings pulsing like a living heart. In his other hand, the [Markless Sword] appeared. This blade had bled with him through every trial; it deserved to ascend.

He drew materials from his storage: [Mystic Ice Cold Iron] from Lin Lang, [Crimson Flame Crystal Sand] from Su Mei, and the rare [Blood Fiend Essence Gold]. These were volatile substances, some diametrically opposed in nature, yet in his mind, their fusion was already a foregone conclusion.

“Fuse.”

Shen Xian tapped the air. At his command, the earth fire below roared upward, swallowing the cauldron. While the [Sky-Burning Cauldron] possessed its own flames, this ancient fire from the Sword Sect carried a ten-thousand-year pedigree. It was the superior tool.

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The fire transformed. It split into nine distinct threads, coiling around the ores like serpents. This was the [Nine Cycles Division Refining Method]. Under his absolute control, the cold iron didn’t melt; it was “shaved” of impurities. The crystal sand was stripped into a fine, glowing dust, and the fiendish aura was scrubbed from the gold, leaving only the pure, metallic soul. It was a performance as smooth as flowing clouds and running water.

As he worked, Shen Xian’s Divine Sense swept the earth fire vent. He realized the fire wasn’t merely ancient; it was fed by a true elemental source—a balance of Yin and Yang. The Yin fire stripped the dross, while the Yang fire stimulated the spiritual sentience.

He pointed a finger, and the material essences intertwined into a spiral artifact pattern. With a flash of gold in his eyes, he traced the [Tiangang Weapon-Suppressing Talisman] in the air, slamming it into the sword’s core.

Zheng!

The [Markless Sword] screamed in resonance. The frost-white blade was now veined with crimson-gold Dao patterns. It had gained the earth-heavy toughness of the iron, the solar resistance of the sand, and a sharpness that could sever the wind itself. Most impressively, a micro-array had formed within, allowing Shen Xian to swap the sword’s attribute between biting frost and searing heat at will.

The sword had successfully ascended to a High-Grade Spirit Treasure.

“Not enough,” Shen Xian muttered, his gaze shifting to the two bronze compasses: the [Heavenly Secret Spirit-Locking Plate] and the [Heavenly Secret Compass].

They were two halves of a whole, long separated by time. He cast them into the cauldron.

This was no mere tempering; this was a complete structural reorganization. He triggered the [Li Fire True Seal] on his brow, adding its golden brilliance to the furnace. The refining platform shook as a phantom image of the starry sea filled the room.

Two quarters of an hour passed. Shen Xian’s hands moved in the “Holding the Supreme Ultimate” gesture, striking eighty-one [Heavenly Works Art] seals in a single breath. The gold and silver runes peeled off the compasses, swirling in the air to form the spectral shadow of an [Armillary Sphere]. Two artifact spirits—a silver dragon and a golden dragon—manifested and roared, their forms intertwining.

A True Spirit Treasure… perhaps even a top-grade one.

Top-grade True Spirit Treasures were rare as phoenix feathers in the Southern Region, usually the exclusive playthings of late-stage Soul Formation experts. But as the dragons began to merge into a singular pearl, the light suddenly wavered.

The cauldron groaned. The golden flames of the [Li Fire True Seal] were shoved back into his body by a sudden, violent surge of internal pressure. The dragon pearl began to crack.

Shen Xian’s expression darkened. He was a Grandmaster, but his vessel—his Golden Core cultivation—was too small to provide the sheer volume of spiritual heat required for a fusion of this magnitude.

“The fire source isn’t enough,” he hissed, his eyes searching the flaming abyss below. “I need more heat.”