Healing System

"Did you two come here to buy or commission?" the man asked, walking back to where most of the swords were displayed and picking one up.

"This one is pretty sharp—should do you well. What do you say?"

However, Michael was not amused—he picked the only one without mana. Wow. Read new chapters at empire

"I'll pass... How much do your commissions cost?"

"Depends on the wielder. If you're shit at it, 50 gold; if you're decent, 10," the man explained before walking up to Michael, sword in hand. "Do you want to try?"

Michael raised a brow at the man. He wasn't exactly good at swordsmanship, but he had been technically using swords to fight.

It's not the same, but go ahead and try it anyway, the system remarked.

"Sure..." he decided to accept. The amount of money he got from Gu Wan was enough to purchase the sword if he was considered decent by the blacksmith.

Picking up the sword, he looked around before asking, "Where am I supposed to show off my skills?"

"Just do it here, I don't really care."

"If you say so..." Michael merely shrugged it off before holding the shabby sword in his hands.

It felt like he could crumble it into bits if he were to tighten his grip any further, but out of respect for the blacksmith, he did not do that.

Instead, he performed a slow downward slash, making sure to adjust his strength just enough so he didn't blow the entire street to bits.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

But midway through the swing, he noticed something was off—he stopped in the middle of the motion.

Michael tried again, but each time he swung downward, he stopped in the exact middle, unable to finish the swing.

Putting in a bit more power, to the point where the entire smithy shook, he was still unable to bring the sword down and finish the swing.

'What is going on?' he stared at the sword in his hands, confused.

There was no mana inside it, but he still felt aversion—something he could not overcome no matter how much strength he used.

"Hmm... You are okay, I suppose. 10 gold it is." The blacksmith walked up before taking the sword out of his hands and placing it back on display.

"What was that?" Michael asked, still shocked by what had just happened.

"Just a simple test. You almost passed. I can tell you put quite a lot of time into the sword," the blacksmith remarked and did a downward swing of his own.

And to Michael's surprise, the sword did not even reach halfway. In fact, it barely even moved from the very top.

It was just suspended there, shaking slightly before being let go and falling onto the ground.

"I can't swing it because I have never practiced the sword, as you can see."

Michael merely nodded and watched as the blacksmith walked back to his mold, before taking a glance at Hu Rong and saying,

"Are you going to try?"

"No... I have my father's sword. I promised to always use it." Hu Rong bowed back in respect before growing quiet again.

"I see, very well then. You, come over here." The blacksmith said, pointing at Michael and the mold beside him.

"I want you to use your Qi when I start forging. Keep using it for as long as you can. The longer you do it, the stronger the sword becomes."

"Alright, tell me when." Michael nodded back and sat beside him, getting ready to use his mana.

After a few seconds of preparation, the blacksmith stated, "I'm starting."

Immediately, the temperature in the room grew to obscene numbers, causing the people outside to recoil away in fear.

But to him, it was simply warm, nothing else.

The blacksmith poured some sort of alloy down into the mold and quickly urged, "Now!"

Michael released his mana and enveloped the entire mold, as well as the alloy, earning a bit of a shocked look from the blacksmith.

But since they were in an important process of forging, they could not slack off, so they continued.

He kept increasing the amount of mana he was exuding, to the point where he started to feel it dip by 1% every single second.

And yet, the sword did not look like it was close to being finished.

The same phenomenon from before happened—the uneven sword began molding itself and slowly taking form, one which was a stark contrast to the sword that was previously made.

It churned out a golden hue, growing brighter and brighter until, finally, it appeared finished.

However, that seemed to be short-lived, as in the very next moment, cracks appeared, spanning across from the hilt all the way to the very tip of the sword.

And then, it shattered, leaving both Michael and the blacksmith confused.

"Did you not give it enough Qi?"

"I poured in as much as I could..."

"Shit... well, give me a moment then," the blacksmith remarked with annoyance as he stood up and sprinted over to a room in the back.

'Why did it shatter?' Michael thought with a sigh. He followed the steps exactly as he was told.

While it looked like more mana could be infused, he didn't want to go overboard.

After all, from his perspective, the sword seemed like a balloon—one that was on the verge of popping but being held together perfectly by the balance.

Or that's what he thought, anyway, but it seemed like he was wrong.

It was bound to fail, just like the other, and then so on and forth. Do you seriously think you can simply forge weapons out of your own mana, especially now since it has three affinities—even if two are locked?

'So what am I supposed to do? Should I just buy a cheap one off the shelf?'

That, or you can make your own—clothing included, and you can solidify it. If you infuse as much mana as you do with Sword of Light, perhaps even more, then the effects would be pleasant. But if you really want a sword made that badly, then just go ahead.

'...'

As Michael was lost in his thoughts, the blacksmith swiftly ran back out, holding a few colorful ores, which he quickly threw in the nearby furnace.

"I believe I found the issue. The ores were simply too brittle. Let's try it with these ones next."

"You know what... it's fine. I'll just get something off the shelf for now," Michael said reluctantly.

"Huh? You sure? I mean, I don't mind, but those swords cost nearly the same as what I was offering," the blacksmith replied with widened eyes and quickly put out the furnace.

"I'm sure, maybe next time."

Michael proceeded to take a few looks around, spotting a sword that matched his preference—one that looked practically the same as his swords of light, just a tad bit thicker.

Bringing it back to the blacksmith and showing the sword to him, he got a price: "6 gold. It's not the best on the shelf, but it's not exactly bad. Put the gold in my pocket."

"Sure... thank you." Michael pulled out exactly 6 gold coins and placed them in the blacksmith's pocket before heading out.

"Master Mujin... Why did you refuse?" Hu Rong's concerned voice rang out, to which he replied in a confident tone,

"No normal sword can hold your master's strength, young disciple."

He cringed at his own way of speaking, but it seemed to work on Hu Rong as he immediately wore the familiar look of reverence in his eyes.

However, it was about time he continued on with his plans—the main one being...

'Time to join a sect.'