Chapter 55: Close Call With Death

The Embersteel Blacksmith Shop thrummed with life as the mid-morning sun cast golden rays through its open windows. The clang of hammers on metal mixed with the steady hiss of the bellows, creating a symphony of industry. Jiang Feng worked in silence, his brow furrowed with concentration as he refined the blade mold Yumo had assigned him earlier.

Unbeknownst to him, each strike of his hammer resonated with his very soul. The Skyforge Flame within him burned brighter, its azure glow faintly visible in his mind's eye. As he molded the raw material, the energy of his blacksmith's bloodline began to stir. The product in his hands, though simple, was being infused with an almost imperceptible vitality—a refinement that only a bloodline like his could achieve.

Jiang Feng's muscles tightened as the energy subtly coursed through him, tempering his body alongside the steel. It wasn't dramatic, but it was there, a gradual sharpening of his senses, an almost imperceptible growth in strength and toughness. The change was natural, seamless, as if the forge was not just his workplace but a crucible for his very existence.

From behind the counter, Yumo watched him work, his sharp eyes narrowed with quiet approval. The young shop owner had long since recognized that Jiang Feng's talent when it comes to forging was very good. There was a rhythm to his work that bordered on instinctive brilliance, a sense of harmony between man and material that even seasoned blacksmiths took decades to achieve.

"You're getting faster" Yumo remarked, his voice breaking the steady cadence of the shop. "But don't rush. Precision is worth more than speed."

Jiang Feng paused mid-swing, the hammer hovering above the glowing metal. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Understood."

Yumo nodded, his expression shifting slightly. "Good. Finish that one, and then we'll see if you're ready to work on something more advanced stuff like armor and so on. After that three days from now we will head to the East wall where the Ironwood Sect will be doing repairs on the outer section. We will be paid to assist them"

The promise of more challenging work lit a spark of determination in Jiang Feng's chest. He pressed forward, his focus unwavering, it was common knowledge that the Ironwood Sect was the top dogs when it came to forging and crafting in Northern Moon city, so it was a little strange to hear that they needed people. 'Why would the Ironwood Sect need other blacksmith's help in repairing the outer walls?"

//

It was late in the afternoon when Jiang Feng finished his final task of the day. Though Yumo wasn't a renowned blacksmith, he was still respected as a capable one. For those who couldn't afford the exorbitant services of the Ironwood Sect, Yumo's shop was a reliable alternative to forge their weapons. While the wealthiest families sought out the famed artisans of the city, the cost of their work—often paid in spirit stones—was shockingly high. For the common folk, Yumo's skills provided both quality and affordability.

"That's it for today. You did great," Yumo said, wiping his hands on a rag. His expression was one of approval, his weathered face lighting up with a rare smile for his young age. "I can see that you're improving every day. Keep it up, and you'll surpass even my expectations." He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small bag. "Here, this is your cut: 30 spirit stones."

Jiang Feng took the small bag, his fingers briefly grazing its cool, worn leather. Peering inside, he saw the glimmer of thirty neatly stacked spirit stones.

"Thank you, Yumo. I'll be here early tomorrow, as usual," Jiang Feng replied with a slight bow of gratitude, slipping the bag into his satchel.

Yumo shook his head. "Not tomorrow. I've been called to inspect the East Wall. Once I assess the situation, I'll draft a layout plan for the repairs that I would like for the both of us to part take in. They're promising good pay for the work." His voice carried a hint of excitement, but also a thread of caution. Large projects often brought in significant income, but they also came with risks.

"That's good news," Jiang Feng said earnestly. "You deserve a big contract like that. Just make sure to be prepared. The Ironwood Sect... well, they aren't exactly known for being easy to deal with." Jiang Feng added, after getting to know the city, he'd heard rumors of the Ironwood Sect and how they operate.

Yumo chuckled dryly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "True enough. The Ironwood Sect is full of hard-headed folks who think they're better than everyone else when it comes to forging. But such is the way of life for people like us, we must always trying to keep up." He turned to survey his shop, letting out a heavy sigh that seemed to echo in the quiet room.

Jiang Feng noticed the weariness in his employer's posture and the weight in his voice but chose not to press on. After all, he was still new to the city and to Yumo's shop. He didn't know the man's past well enough to ask questions. 'Perhaps he's carrying some kind of history'... Jiang Feng thought, clutching the pouch tightly as he headed out the door.

By the time Jiang Feng reached the streets, night had fallen, and the city had come alive in a different way. Formation lamps glowed softly, lining the cobbled streets with a warm, magical light. The night brothels had begun to open their doors, their entrances illuminated with lanterns of deep crimson. Fine-dressed women leaned against doorframes or perched on balconies, calling out to passersby with practiced charm.

"Hey, cutie" a young woman called out, her voice playful and inviting. "You look tired. How about spending the night with big sister Qin here?"

Jiang Feng, lost in the wonder of the bustling city, was startled to realize that the woman was addressing him. She was beautiful, her smile warm and teasing, her eyes tingling with interest.

He hesitated, feeling a rush of embarrassment. Though he would turn eighteen by year's end, his martial cultivation had already begun to refine his body. His lean frame and growing maturity made him appear older than he truly was, which seems to now draw attention.

"No thanks, big sister. Maybe another time!" he stammered, waving his hand in a hurry before quickening his pace down the road.

The young woman's smile lingered as she watched him retreat, but as soon as he turned the corner, her expression darkened. Her once-soft features sharpened, her lips curling into a cold sneer. She glanced toward an adjacent street, her brow furrowing in irritation, before stepping into the shadows. Moments later, her figure shimmered and disappeared completely, as though she had melted into the night itself.

Three minutes later, the quiet of the street was broken by the arrival of four armored guards. Their silver armor gleamed under the formation lamps, their disciplined movements exuding authority and power. At their helm stood Captain Situ, a man whose presence commanded immediate respect. His piercing eyes scanned the area, blazing with unspoken words.

"We were too late," Captain Situ murmured, his tone clipped with frustration. "She's gone again." His gaze flicked toward the brothel across the street, his jaw tightening.

He turned to his men. "Search the brothel. If you find any Shadow members, eliminate them on sight. Investigate the owner thoroughly. Leave no stone unturned."

With a wave of his hand, Captain Situ vanished into the night, his form dissolving like mist.

The three guards exchanged determined glances before striding toward the brothel's entrance. As they pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside, the raucous sounds of laughter and music faltered, replaced by murmurs of unease. The doors swung shut behind them, sealing off the commotion from the outside world.