Douluo: My Clone Is Groudon

"Pay close attention."

Zhen Hua deliberately slowed his hammer's descent by thirty percent. The moment the hammerhead touched the metal, golden ripples spread across its surface.

The originally hard Sinking Silver deformed like dough, then rebounded with a burst of blue-purple starfire. The scattered sparks didn't dissipate but instead hovered in midair, bound by soul power, forming an intricate array of runes before falling back onto the metal's surface.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed as though Zhen Hua's forging hammer was suspended three inches above the metal's "heart." The air pressure in the venue suddenly surged.

The lower-ranked blacksmiths in the audience turned pale. Each throb of the metal heart felt like a direct strike on their souls.

Gu La and Tang Wulin were equally focused. Though they couldn't fully understand the later stages of soul forging, the process of transitioning from thousand-refinement to spirit forging, and finally to soul forging, provided them with valuable insights.

Unconsciously leaning forward, Gu La's spiritual force—stronger than that of an average sacred smith—allowed him to clearly observe the growth trajectory of the energy circuits within the metal that Zhen Hua intentionally showcased.

The golden threads moved like living creatures through the silvery-white base. It reminded him of what the Saint Craftsman had once said: "Spirit forging shapes form; soul forging imbues soul." His throat bobbed heavily. At this moment, the lump of metal seemed to breathe, as if it had gained life!

Gu La muttered under his breath, "This is soul forging. What I achieved through blood pacts is at best a crude half-finished product. There's still room for refinement later."

Tang Wulin pushed his Purple Extreme Demon Eye to its limit, faint golden light glowing deep within his eyes. In his vision, every movement of Zhen Hua's muscles was broken down into slow motion.

The twisting of his waist and hips drove the angle of force transmitted through his shoulders and elbows. The soul power flowed along his arm bones into the hammer handle, and even the sensation of the hammer face touching the metal for one-thousandth of a second was etched into his mind, waiting to blossom into inspiration.

"It's about to begin."

Zhen Hua's low voice pierced through the gasps of astonishment. Blood-vessel-like patterns suddenly bulged on the surface of the Sinking Silver, and the entire forging platform was enveloped in a deep blue cocoon of light.

When the cocoon shattered, a metallic heart floated in midair, pulsating with thunderous rhythm. Each contraction caused violent fluctuations in the venue's protective barrier.

The thunderous roar of the metallic heart peaked on its seventh contraction, causing spiderweb-like cracks to appear on the protective barrier.

Zhen Hua flipped the forging hammer in his hand, drawing a circle in the air. Nine golden patterns emerged, absorbing all the chaotic energy. When he pressed his palm against the metal's surface, the turbulent heartbeat transformed into a clear phoenix cry.

"Soul forging complete."

The floating block of metal had transformed into a silver-winged phoenix with vivid feather details, each flowing with liquid starlight.

Gasps erupted from the audience. A group of third- and fourth-rank blacksmiths could never have imagined witnessing such a feat.

The clear, resonant hum of the metal echoed like a phoenix's cry, drowning out the cheers of the crowd. Everyone carrying metal objects trembled—their storage soul devices, personal weapons, even their belt buckles vibrated in resonance with the miracle in the air.

Though it was only a single metal, with Zhen Hua's skill, the Sinking Silver had reached the pinnacle of soul forging. Though still far from heavenly refinement, it was enough to guide nearly a hundred percent of the continent's blacksmiths.

As the demonstration of soul forging concluded, the Blacksmith Association fell silent. Many blacksmiths remained lost in the lingering echoes of the forging process. A masterful forge was akin to communicating with heaven and earth, captivating the hearts of those who watched.

Fifteen minutes later, Zhen Hua's voice pierced the silence: "The forging of Blue Coppertite will now begin."

The suspended light screens projected images of the contestants' forging platforms again. However, the blacksmiths below found the scene dull compared to the divine artisan's performance. Though the contestants on stage were all geniuses, their techniques and methods still appeared indistinguishable to the untrained eye.

The scorching heat inside the forging room distorted the air. Each time the heavy hammer struck, orange-red starfire erupted.

Forging Blue Coppertite was significantly more difficult than Sinking Silver, and the differences were evident. But for Gu La, it posed no real challenge.

With a flick of his wrist, Gu La switched to a reverse grip on the hammer handle. Using dual hammers alternately, he traced intricate arcs. Unlike Tang Wulin's bold and rhythmic forging style, each of Gu La's hammer strikes wove layers of oscillation waves, forcing impurities within the Blue Coppertite to the surface while keeping the material's temperature precisely below its critical threshold.

When the silvery glow of a perfectly forged thousand-refinement piece shot into the sky, the testing instrument's readings went wild, finally stabilizing at the peak of the thousand-refinement scale.

---

On the award podium, neon light screens displayed the rankings. Tang Wulin stared at the word "Runner-up" next to his name, absently fiddling with the button on his forging uniform sleeve.

The host's enthusiastic congratulatory speech drifted in and out of focus: "… Contestant Gu La will receive a quota of three hundred kilograms of rare metals and a cash prize of five million federal credits!"

Gu La accepted the trophy with a smile. The taste of victory—it was sweet.

After the competition, the top three contestants received guidance from Zhen Hua. Gu La and Tang Wulin stayed behind separately.

In the reception hall on the top floor of the association, Zhen Hua's silver-gray robe draped over the star-patterned carpet.

"Let's talk casually," he said, his voice resonating with a peculiar metallic timbre amid the swirling tea mist. "What inspired you to become a blacksmith?"

Tang Wulin instinctively pressed his chest, where the spirit soul Gold Song resided. "It was initially to earn money to buy soul spirits. But as time passed, I grew to love forging—the feeling of shaping metal under the hammer."

"Heh, many blacksmiths take this path. Wealthy families rarely choose such a labor-intensive side profession."

Zhen Hua wasn't surprised. He saw himself in Tang Wulin—he hadn't come from a prominent family either, and his rise to become a divine artisan was built on relentless effort.

"And you, Gu La? Whose disciple are you? Why didn't you follow her to study design instead?"

"Who says I didn't?"

Gu La swiped his wrist and produced a badge.

Zhen Hua's lips twitched, and he straightened his posture. "A fifth-rank designer? You truly are a prodigy."

Tang Wulin's eyes widened. This was the first time he'd learned that Gu La had studied another side profession.

Gu La sipped the tea from the divine artisan's collection, savoring its lingering fragrance before putting away the badge. "It's nothing special. I have some talent in spiritual force, so professions like design, which rely heavily on it, aren't particularly challenging for me. But they're nowhere near as interesting as forging."

Zhen Hua chuckled silently, tracing patterns in the air with his fingertips. Shaking his head slightly at Gu La, he said, "Young man, you're quite arrogant, but you have the right to be. However, you haven't answered my question yet."

"Why did you choose forging?" After a moment of thought, Gu La smiled and gave his answer: "Aside from finding it interesting, I also want to personally forge my four-word battle armor and explore its limits."

The setting sun stretched the shadows of the three figures long across the room, as if reflecting Gu La's confidence. Zhen Hua gazed at the spirited youth, a meaningful smile curving his lips.

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