Seeing that Yuan Ming had not been directly pulled down, a hint of appreciation flashed in Fang Ge's eyes, but it quickly returned to normal as he spoke, "First, watch carefully how I demonstrate, then you will try it yourself."

Speaking, he skillfully lit the fire and added charcoal. As the flames brightened, he grabbed a handful of yellow powder and sprinkled it into the fire pit.

With a "whoosh,"

a burst of red and yellow flames surged up from the fire pit, reflecting against Fang Ge's sharply defined face, bathing it in a ruddy glow and instantly doubling the temperature around him.

"This is ignition powder, made of sulfur, saltpetre, and other materials, saving quite a bit of time. You will only practice forging today, so let's use a rough iron ingot that has been smelted ahead."

As he spoke, Fang Ge picked up a block of iron ingot the size and thickness of a brick and placed it in the fire pit to heat.

Soon, the iron ingot became red-hot.

"Watch closely, I will demonstrate this only once," Fang Ge said, taking the forging hammer from Yuan Ming's hand.

He then took a horse stance, placed the iron ingot on the anvil, gripped the tongs in one hand and the forging hammer in the other, and smashed down on the glowing ingot.

As he swung his arm, each muscle stood out, with veins prominently visible, his whole arm seemingly tracing circles in mid-air, carrying a strangely powerful aesthetic.

"Clang,"

the hammer fell, sounding clear and ringing out as sparks flew.

Yuan Ming's gaze intently followed each of Fang Ge's movements, carefully observing his force application while silently pondering.

"Clang,"

another clear hammer blow rang out, once again sparking, his movements clean and decisive, without the slightest delay or sluggishness.

"The process is not complicated; it seems not too difficult as long as it is followed," Yuan Ming silently thought to himself.

After about a dozen more strikes, Fang Ge's movements began to speed up, increasing the speed of his arm swings, and the continual "clang clang" sounds, along with the scattering sparks, filled the air like fireworks.

As Yuan Ming watched, his expression began to change.

His gaze drifted slightly, as if out of focus, but his ears perked up involuntarily, trying to observe the moves more thoroughly by using both sight and hearing.

Despite being in the Fire Workshop where nearly a hundred people forged iron simultaneously, the sound filled with tumult, Fang Ge's hammering resonated with distinct clarity in Yuan Ming's ears.

It wasn't because he was close, but because that sound was obviously clearer than that of others and carried a unique rhythm that was indescribable in words.

Yuan Ming furrowed his brows, listening to each hammer strike and silently counting the number of times pounded.

This was his unique habit, just like when he first entered the Ten Thousand Mountains, marking his progression silently, sketching a map in his mind; from the start, he observed and recorded all details.

Fang Ge first began to accelerate after the eighteenth strike; at the three hundred sixtieth, he increased his speed for the second time, now reaching the five hundred thirty-first strike.

By this point, Yuan Ming's mentality had completely changed compared to just a short while ago.

He had realized that this forging method based on artifact refining was far from simple.

Just by one point, this already revealed its exceptional nature.

From the moment Fang Ge swung the hammer, apart from initially heating the iron ingot in the fire pit, he had not reheated it since.

Yet that iron ingot still maintained a bright red-hot state, never cooling down.

"It's eight hundred fifty strikes now, and he's accelerating again," Yuan Ming focused his gaze, thinking to himself.

"Clang clang..."

At this point, the hammering sounds had become very rapid, resonating as if large and small silver pearls were falling on a jade plate, producing a very pleasing "ding ding dang dang."

During the pounding process, Fang Ge continuously and quickly folded and turned over the iron ingot, his movements extremely skilled and smooth.

"Such continuous hammering requires strength and stamina far beyond the ordinary; this Brother Fang Ge's cultivation must be quite high," Yuan Ming thought as he observed Fang Ge's serious and almost expressionless face.

Just as he counted to the thousandth strike, the final sparks flew, and Fang Ge ceased his hammering.

He put the forging hammer aside on the black anvil; left behind was the palm-sized iron ingot, still glowing red and hot, gradually cooling and discoloring to reveal layers of finely detailed forged patterns.

Yuan Ming's gaze sharpened, noting that the forged patterns were not only very fine but each layer's lines were approximately even in thickness, making it pleasing to the eye and quite exceptional.

"Setting aside the materials used, ordinary refined iron used for artifact refining, after such a thousand strikes, would only then be qualified for making Magic Artifacts. Now, you try," Fang Ge said, extinguishing the fire in the fire pit, making room for Yuan Ming.

He was starting with teaching how to make a fire, clearly considering Yuan Ming's situation, which was quite meticulous.

Yuan Ming nodded, stepped forward, took off the beast skin and longsword from his waist, and set them aside.

Then, he began to kindle the fire, recalling Fang Ge's prior methods.

Yuan Ming strictly followed Fang Ge's method, meticulously tending to each step, and quickly ignited the flames.

To the side, Fang Ge watched and nodded in approval. He always had a fondness for younger disciples who took their learning seriously.

"Whoo"

A handful of ignition powder was thrown down, and the temperature inside the fire pit instantly soared. The authentic version is on *.

Yuan Ming picked up an iron ingot and placed it into the fire pit, beginning to time its heating.

When the iron ingot had turned red-hot, he immediately clamped it out and laid it on the anvil. He then hoisted the forging hammer and began pounding.

"Clang"

Sparks flew. Yuan Ming frowned, as the sound of his hammering was somewhat dull, far from the clear ring of Fang Ge's.

"Is it that the heating time was insufficient, or is my strength too light?"

Yuan Ming suppressed the doubts in his mind and began swinging his arm in wider arcs, continuing to hammer.

The sound of successive hammering rose, with sparks scattering across the anvil, and the sound grew slightly clearer.

After eighteen strikes, Yuan Ming quietly channeled mana within his body, increasing the force and speed of his hammer swings.

Fang Ge saw this scene, his eyebrows slightly raising, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

The more Yuan Ming hammered, the more amazed he was at how exhausting the seemingly simple mechanical action was. After only dozens of strikes, his arms began to feel sore and swollen.

After one hundred and fifty hammers, the soreness intensified, already slowing his pace.

When he struck the one hundred and eightieth hammer, his speed had returned to what it was when he first started, and the red-hot color of the iron ingot on the anvil had visibly darkened.

"That's enough, no need to continue hammering," Fang Ge called for Yuan Ming to stop.

Disappointment flashed in his eyes; Yuan Ming's talent was not as he had hoped.

"Brother, I can keep going," Yuan Ming said, breathing heavily.

"No need. Even if you continue hammering, this iron ingot will not become a qualified product," Fang Ge said, his tone still calm and unhurried.

"Why is that?" Yuan Ming set down the forging hammer and wiped the sweat from his forehead, puzzled.

"What we're doing now is called forging, also known as refining the embryo. Essentially, it involves continuously striking to beat the impurities out of the iron ingot. To ensure the ingot's optimal ductility and condition, at least a thousand strikes are needed without interruption. Do you know why that is?" Fang Ge slowly explained, and after posing the final question, he looked at Yuan Ming.

Yuan Ming had already guessed the answer, saying, "Brother, you did not reheat during the previous forging process. Is it necessary to maintain the temperature of the embryo iron through continuous strikes?"

"Correct, and as the impurities in the iron ingot decrease, it becomes harder to maintain its temperature, hence the need for faster striking. Once the speed decreases, the iron ingot inevitably cools and becomes brittle, and its ductility is compromised," Fang Ge nodded and said.

Yuan Ming, upon hearing this, was quite shaken. The seemingly simple forging was in reality not easy at all.

"Brother, how can I achieve your level of continuous thousand strikes?" Yuan Ming looked up and asked earnestly.

"First tell me, from observing my forging earlier and from your own attempt, what do you feel?" Fang Ge asked, instead of answering.

"Earlier, I noticed your hammering actions, estimated the strength you used, even noted the points when you sped up, and even realized that the sound of your hammer strikes was different from others. But when I did it myself, I was far from achieving that," Yuan Ming thought for a moment and said.

"It's not easy to notice these details. However, apart from not seeing the movement of my mana, you also didn't notice my breathing," Fang Ge nodded and said.

"Breathing?" Yuan Ming frowned slightly.

"The rhythm of your breathing forms the basis for the rhythm of your forging. This is very important. Although you didn't notice, you kept a good rhythm while swinging earlier, which was unintentionally perfect, but you need to maintain this in the future," Fang Ge said.

"Brother, what then is my problem?" Yuan Ming asked, as this was of most concern to him.

"No need to discuss minor issues. Your biggest problems are insufficient strength and lack of experience. These are not issues that can be resolved in a short time; they require years of cultivation," Fang Ge waved his hand and said.

Yuan Ming thought for a moment, then asked, "Then brothers like you who can achieve continuous thousand strikes, are there many?"

"Are you asking how your level compares among the disciples?" Fang Ge countered.

Yuan Ming, somewhat embarrassed, nodded.

"Low grade," Fang Ge said bluntly.

Yuan Ming was stunned by the response, never expecting such an answer, and felt increasingly embarrassed.

Contrary to expectation, Fang Ge seemed utterly unaware, stroking his chin in thought and continued cutting deeper, "The first attempt, only managing to continuously strike one hundred eighty-three times, is… the worst record in recent years."