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With his spear broken, Wu Han decided he’d done enough training for the day.

Sadly, since he was still considered a guest, things weren’t simple. He held high clearance among the disciples, but he wasn’t one of them. That ant no assigned duties. The Luo Clan ran on a task-assignnt system rather than open volunteer missions.

If he wanted sothing done, he’d have to find it himself.

"I guess the board will do," he muttered, recalling Wu Zhen’s mories.

In this world, most cultivators belonged to sects or factions. Only a few choses to wander alone. Still, even the solitary ones had ways to earn money and exchange information, through the boards.

A board was where common folk ca to plead for help or post requests that required cultivator aid. Anything could appear there, hunting missions, escort work, information trades, even petty jobs.

Of course, easy access ca with problems. Plenty of the posts were scams, exaggerations, or plain nonsense. But sotis, among the noise, a real treasure of information hid waiting to be found.

And where there’s a shared goal, people gather.

"Shield made from black sea turtle scale!"

"Rare mountain herbs, fresh-picked!"

"Spirit core of a fire rabbit beast, still warm!"

The street buzzed with noise and energy. rchants and warriors crowded every corner, bartering, shouting, showing off their spoils of war. Almost everyone there carried so form of Qi, the air itself pulsed faintly with power. These weren’t ordinary folk, but cultivators from different clans and backgrounds.

Wu Han strolled through the crowd, eyes scanning the stalls. Nothing caught his interest. The Wu Clan’s treasures might have been few, but they were leagues above anything here. If he wanted sothing truly worth his ti, only an auction house might have it.

But first things first.

He stopped before a blacksmith’s shop. Hot air rolled from the open doorway, thick with the sll of molten tal. Inside, a massive furnace glowed red, feeding the room with heat. Along the walls hung all manner of weapons—from short daggers to greatswords taller than a man.

Wu Han’s gaze lingered briefly on one of the greatswords before sighing.

Too heavy.

His current strength couldn’t handle it, and using the Sky Piercer technique on sothing that size would burn through his mana too quickly.

"What do you want?"

The voice ca from a burly woman behind the forge. He didn’t look up, hamring rhythmically at a glowing blade. Sparks flew with each strike. He didn’t even bother to check if anything was stolen. The woman’s Qi told Wu Han he was at least at the seventh stage.

Even the blacksmiths here are warriors, Wu Han thought.

He clasped his hands and spoke evenly. "Greetings, esteed blacksmith. I’d like to buy a new spear. Could you show what you’ve made?"

"Are you blind?" the woman grunted, still hamring.

Wu Han sighed. "I don’t want refurbished junk. I want sothing you forged yourself."

That made the hamr stop. The old woman lifted the half-finished blade and stared at its reflection. For a brief mont, a faint shadow flickered across the tal. Then he saw Wu Han standing behind him, white-blue robes shimring faintly with wind.

"...Luo?" The woman’s eyes widened. He set down his hamr and rose to his full height.

"A core disciple, even. No daddy to give you a weapon? Why co to an old woman like ?"

Even after recognizing his faction, she didn’t bother to show respect. Understandable. She was a veteran blacksmith with decades of experience under her belt, one of the best in town by anyone’s asure.

"And how’d you know they were refurbished? They aren’t junk, you know."

She scowled at the word junk. Wu Han could feel her spirit flare, anger bleeding from her Qi even as she stood still. She was tall, broad-shouldered, hair cut short, a long burn scar running down her arm. Despite her age, she still looked strong enough to hamr iron barehanded.

"It can sharpen the blade," Wu Han said evenly, "but it can’t fix a warped handle."

He hadn’t just looked around with his eyes. He’d spread his senses across the shop, inspecting every weapon on display. All of them bore battle scars beneath the polish, refurbished, resold, not freshly forged.

The woman let out a grunt of approval. "Hmph. As expected from a Luo. Spear, right? Follow ."

She tossed the half-heated blade back into the furnace and pushed open the door to the back room. Inside, the air grew hotter, but the display was sparse. Where the front had twenty weapons of each type, here were only a handful, five at most, so racks even empty.

"You’re lucky you use a spear," she said, chuckling. "This ti of year, all the swords are gone. The Han brats bought out half my stock trying to win the tournant."

She clearly didn’t mind. Profit was profit.

"See for yourself."

She stopped at a corner rack. Three spears stood there, each one unique in design.

"This one’s forged from—"

"How much for all three?" Wu Han cut her off without even listening.

"Hmph. I knew you were from the Luo Clan, but each of these costs around fifty spirit stones," the old woman said, squinting at him.

The price was steep — each spear forged from rare tals, equal in quality to the Northern Cold Steel.

Fifty spirit stones were no small sum for a young man. Only soone with serious backing could afford it.

"Sure."

Wu Han casually drew out one hundred fifty stones and handed them over.

Rong’s face twitched. "Did you rob your elders?"

"Haha, no." Wu Han chuckled and raised his hand. Without asking, he cast a healing spell over her.

Rong stumbled back in surprise as the faint burns on her hand faded instantly.

"An uncommon healing thod?" she muttered, eyes narrowing. Then realization struck, and she burst into laughter. "Hah! So, you’re Wu Han, disciple of Doctor Zhong! I’ve heard the rumors, but I never thought I’d see you in the flesh."

"My na’s Rong," she said with a snort. "Can’t say it’s nice to et you. You’re more arrogant than I expected from a disciple of the Miracle Doctor."

Her tone was blunt, with a hint of resentnt behind it.

"I only saved us both so ti," Wu Han replied calmly. "I already know what those three are made of, and what they can do."

That made her pause. The irritation drained from her face, replaced by a spark of interest.

"Why don’t we make a bet, then?" Rong said, her lips curling. "If you can na all three correctly, I’ll grant you one request, anything you want. But if you lose, you’ll owe a favor."

Wu Han smirked. "You’re only doing that to get closer to my master. But fine. I’ll play along."

Rong froze for a mont, then laughed hard enough to cough.

"Smart boy! Alright then, show what you know!"

You are reading Evil Mage Cultivation: The Immortal Enslavement Path Chapter 31: Bet against a blacksmith on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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