To leave the mountain village, father and daughter worked as one. Though Ke Er was only Level 1, her craftsmanship stat surprisingly hit 7. Handling chores and cooking, she outperformed the rough-and-tumble Ou Tao by a wide margin.
She prepared provisions: blue-quality bamboo tube pork stew, using meat from the Bamboo Boar King and winter bamboo shoots Ou Tao had bought.
Meanwhile, Ou Tao journeyed far to find a swordsmith. He had the materials, but tool merchants in human villages were all too low-level. When they saw the orange-quality iron he presented, they shook their heads like rattles—terrified of breaking it and facing ruinous compensation.
Seeing their reaction, Ou Tao dared not entrust them. This weapon was meant to bear the evil soul of the Yami Behemoth. One mistake would waste two orange-quality materials.
Following a tip, he headed deep into the western border snowfields to seek Kusoli, a goblin craftsman who’d smuggled himself from the Goblin Kingdom. Legends said he was once a master blacksmith, now a refugee for unknown reasons.
Amid the endless white, Ou Tao spotted a semi-circular hut built of snow bricks. Stepping into the courtyard, he saw a hanging cage beside it—inside, a LV3 fire lizard. The two militiamen guiding him gripped their sword hilts, suspecting a trap.
Ou Tao stopped them. An ice sword was frozen into the ground, durability (1/1)—a single-use blade. Carved on it: "Please Use."
The cage opened. The fire lizard charged. Ou Tao yanked the ice sword, flipped it upward in a reverse slash, and sent the blazing creature flying. It landed, shook itself—the health bar flickered with just a sliver left—then fled.
The snow hut door creaked open. Out crawled a hunchbacked, green-skinned, pointy-eared elder. A monocle covered his left eye; a ruler hung at his waist, a hammer in hand.
"Are you Kusoli?" Ou Tao smiled, sizing him up.
"Hey! Why set that lizard on us?!" one militiaman shouted, face flushed with anger.
"A test," the old goblin said calmly. "Anyone who travels far for a weapon yet fears the ice sword—or fails to fell the lizard with it—is either a coward clinging to gear or a dandy treating blades as toys. For them, I craft flashy but hollow weapons. For the worthy? I forge with heart."
"So blunt?" The militiamen exchanged glances.
"I agree with your philosophy," Ou Tao said. "A true swordsman sees blades in grass and wood. Those who achieve nothing without legendary steel don’t deserve it."
"Master! He didn’t even kill the lizard! He fits the first type! Why reveal the truth?!" the young goblin cried anxiously.
"You don’t understand," Kusoli didn’t glance his way. "This is a swordsman’s master."
He’d seen it: Ou Tao not only grasped the test’s intent but reversed it. Force, angle—calculated perfectly. Just enough to leave the lizard with a sliver of health. Deliberate. If Kusoli missed that, he’d prove himself unworthy—and Ou Tao would never trust him with the materials.
Kusoli smiled. "I’ll forge your weapon with all my skill. State your need."
"It must initiate control, shatter enemy formations, force the engagement!"
"Grandpa’s asking weapon type—longsword or shortsword!" the young goblin interjected.
"Understood." Kusoli ignored him, accepting Ou Tao’s materials.
"Grandpa! He didn’t specify the type!"
Kusoli chuckled. "This master means: as long as the blade fulfills its purpose, type is irrelevant. He wields any."
*Village Hero*—a buff now on Ou Tao, lasting three days: *You saved the village. Villagers are grateful. When trading here, discounts granted by villagers invoke the Heavenly Principle’s blessing, temporarily accelerating experience gain.* Thanks to it, Ou Tao gathered all ingredients for just three silver coins.
Ke Er, the diligent little homemaker, bustled about the yard carrying firewood. From the large pot drifted the rich aroma of bamboo shoots stewed with bamboo boar meat.
"Father, you’re back! Ke Er made seventeen portions of blue-quality bamboo tube meat!" She stood hands on hips, beaming with a clear *Praise me!* expression.
"Mm, Ke Er is truly amazing." Ou Tao ruffled her hair gently and stepped into the courtyard.
He opened his inventory. Inside lay a curved blade—thin at the tips, thick in the middle, jet-black like a plump black fish. The black-gold steel faintly pulsed with eerie energy. Razor-sharp edges gleamed with cold light upon drawing, accompanied by a sharp hiss like a gushing spring.
