Ray placed the tal onto the forging table and began the calcination process, the first step in forging.
Heavy silver wasn't the most eye-catching choice. In competitions, higher-grade tals ant higher potential scores, but also higher risk. Choosing a stable mid-grade tal was a conservative move, so no one paid them any attention.
Rachel mirrored Ray's actions. As the tal heated, she leaned closer and whispered, "What exactly is your plan?"
His reply was barely audible. "Senior disciple sister, when we start, follow my rhythm. Forge together with . Heavy silver is the most stable mid-grade tal. As long as you keep pace with my hamr, you won't fail."
Rachel frowned. Follow… his rhythm?
Before she could ask more, the official's voice rang out.
"The second round of the Skysea Alliance Tournant's blacksmithing competition is about to begin. Only thirty percent of participants remain. Treasure this opportunity and show us your full ability."
Those who stood here had already proven themselves. Focus radiated from every face.
Ray's gaze sharpened. The world around him faded as his breathing settled into a steady cadence. His posture, his presence, even his heartbeat aligned with the forging table beneath him.
Watching him, Rachel felt as though she were witnessing sothing profound. His state was natural, seamless, as if he had always belonged here.
No wonder Father calls him a genius…
This wasn't just brute strength or talent. It was harmony.
"Ten… nine… eight…"
The countdown echoed.
"Three… two… one… begin!"
Scarlet-hot tal flared across the forging tables, igniting the second round.
On the judging platform, countless eyes swept across the field. At the center, the white-haired old man narrowed his gaze, locking onto one figure.
"Is that the boy from yesterday?" he murmured, pointing directly at Ray.
"Yes. Our investigation confirms he's from the West Ocean City Blacksmith's Association. The girl beside him is Nigel's daughter, already hailed as one of the finest talents of this generation. Who would have thought they'd produce an even younger and more frightening genius?" the middle-aged man exclaid softly beside the white-haired elder.
The old man nodded slowly. "West Ocean City has truly been blessed these past few years. I want to see whether this boy can astonish us again today. Dig deeper. I want to know his background, his family circumstances, everything."
"What are you planning?" the middle-aged man asked, startled.
A calculating smile crept onto the old man's lips. "Skysea City has its fair share of talents, but compared to West Ocean, we're still lacking. The younger the blacksmith, the easier it is to shape them. Opportunities like this don't co often."
"I understand." Enlightennt dawned on the middle-aged man's face. He imdiately activated his soul communicator and began making arrangents.
None of this reached Ray's ears.
The instant the signal was given, Ray moved.
Light flashed as forging hamrs appeared in his hands. But they weren't his heavy silver hamrs. They were tungsten.
He raised one hamr and gently tapped the heavy silver.
Ding.
The sound was crisp and clean.
Rachel, watching closely, imitated him. Her own thousand-refined hamr descended.
Ding.
Two notes rang out in succession.
Ray frowned slightly, then turned and nodded at her.
Rachel t his gaze and nodded back without hesitation.
She still didn't fully understand what he intended to do, but she trusted him. Completely. If this ended in failure, so be it. They were still young. Opportunities would never stop coming.
Ding!
Ray's hamr fell again.
Rachel followed.
They raised their other hamrs together and struck.
Around them, the rest of the competitors had already begun forging. After yesterday's chaos, most had learned their lesson and rushed into the process early, desperate not to be disturbed again.
Boom.
Boom.
Ray's strikes ca slower than the day before, but each blow carried a strange, steady cadence.
Rachel felt it.
Their movents aligned. Their timing overlapped. The delay between their hamrs vanished.
As Ray's pace quickened, so did hers.
Feeling.
Rhythm.
Those two words echoed in Rachel's mind.
She had forged heavy silver countless tis, yet never like this. It was as though the tal beneath her hamr was breathing, responding to each strike, guiding her hand instead of resisting it.
She slipped into that sensation effortlessly, her consciousness sinking deep into the forging.
A faint smile tugged at Ray's lips as he sensed the change. Senior disciple sister really is amazing. Once she grasps it, she truly grasps it.
At first, no one paid them much attention. Their pace seed slow, unremarkable.
Then the storm began.
Their hamrs blurred. Strikes fell like rain. The rhythm surged and expanded, swallowing the space around them just as it had the day before.
What stunned the onlookers wasn't just the speed.
It was the symtry.
Every strike landed in the sa place. Every motion mirrored the other. The pullback, the descent, the force, the timing. Perfectly aligned.
Under this relentless assault, the heavy silver began to shrink and transform, its surface smoothing, condensing, refining.
The judges noticed.
Shock rippled across the platform.
"What are those two doing?"
"Why are their rhythms identical?"
No one had ever seen anything like this.
Rachel was fully imrsed now. She could hear the heavy silver's voice clearly, bright and joyful with every strike. She no longer needed to follow Ray consciously.
Her own instincts had taken over, flowing naturally within that shared rhythm.
Hamr after hamr descended.
Joyful chis rang out as impurities were driven away.
Cloudlike patterns surfaced across the tal, gleaming softly.
Sweat trickled down Rachel's forehead. Her soul power exceeded Ray's, but her physical strength did not. Even with Ray restraining his power to match hers, the pace was pushing her to the brink.
She poured soul power into her arms, gritting her teeth, refusing to stop.
And then—
Yes.
This is it.
The thought rang through her heart like a bell.
Bang!
Their final strike landed together.
Two beams of light shot skyward from the heavy silver. They vanished in an instant, but every single person on the stage saw them.
"What?! Light?" the white-haired old man blurted out, leaping to his feet.
Without exception, the Skysea Alliance blacksmiths stared, dumbfounded.
Kaelan, positioned at the far end of the platform, had been watching them from the start. Even with his understanding of the two, the perfect synchronization had left him stunned.
But when he saw the light, all his doubts evaporated.
Rachel… succeeded?
Even the faintest glow ant one thing.
Thousand Refinent.
At that mont, Rachel had stepped into the realm of third-rank blacksmiths.
Fourteen years old. Third rank.
An achievent unheard of in the junior division.
Ray didn't count. He was already fourth rank.
The white-haired old man snapped out of his shock and leapt down from the stage, moving with astonishing agility for soone his age. The competition no longer mattered to him.
He rushed straight toward them.
A pale blue halo shimred across the refined heavy silver as Ray put away his tungsten hamrs, his eyes narrowing in quiet contemplation.
Rachel leaned against the forging table, breathing heavily, eyes shining like stars. That feeling. That sensation. She replayed it again and again in her mind, carving it deep into her soul.
For the first ti, she had truly heard the will of the tal.
Her entire world felt different.
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