Volume One, Chapter Forty-Eight: The Mystery of the Bronze Button

Lifting the boiling kettle from the tripod, Mu Qing brewed herself a cup of Roybus tea. She reached out and asked for the golden flying needle that Mo De had just condensed. The moment she held the needle, Mu Qing’s expression grew slightly rigid. Mo De, who had risen to steep a cup of tea from the Exploration Lands, noticed and asked curiously, “What’s wrong? Is something off?”

Mu Qing didn’t reply. Holding the tip of the needle between her fingers, she bent her other finger and flicked the needle’s shaft. A crisp sound of shattering rang out. Mo De clutched his head and groaned, feeling as if a heavy hammer had struck his consciousness, nearly severing his mental link with the needle.

“What are you doing?” Mo De, irritated, looked up at Mu Qing, only to see that the flying needle had vanished from her slender fingers, replaced by a fine, dim golden thread.

“This isn’t metal simulated by the alien seed—it’s genuine substance. Even if you disperse your powers now, as long as you don’t actively reclaim it, this golden thread won’t dissipate and will remain.” Mu Qing handed the thread back to Mo De and took a sip of her tea, the unique sweetness of Roybus spreading through her mouth. “Have you ever absorbed any metal? Generally, alien-bearers can only use the alien seed to influence or control existing materials, or create new ones through reaction. No one can conjure something from nothing, materializing from the void without any base materials.”

Rubbing the dim golden thread between his fingers, Mo De immediately understood what Mu Qing meant. On the day he awakened his powers, the copper amulet on a black cord had disappeared without notice. Mo De was certain—the golden thread was part of that amulet. In hindsight, the amulet must have been absorbed into his body when he awakened his abilities.

Thinking of this, Mo De’s expression twisted oddly; he coughed, clutching his stomach.

“Metal-type alien-bearers can generally break down and absorb small amounts of metal into their bodies, though most wouldn’t do so. At most, people carry metal close to them; actually ingesting it is rare.” Seeing Mo De’s discomfort, Mu Qing grinned mischievously as she prodded him.

Swallowing several gulps of tea to suppress the spasms in his stomach, Mo De finally convinced himself that, as a metal-type bearer, he could digest and absorb that copper amulet—even if he had eaten it. Steadying his mind, Mo De closed his eyes, letting his consciousness flow through his body, but found no trace of the amulet.

“Try to distinguish how you feel when you connect mentally with the golden thread, compared to when you use your powers.” Seeing Mo De’s fruitless attempt, Mu Qing offered advice.

Pinching the thread, Mo De summoned his powers, a faint golden light appearing on the thread’s surface, enveloping it until it transformed once more into a flying needle.

“I sense that material like the golden thread still exists somewhere in my body, though I can’t control more at the moment. But when my powers mimic metal and attach to the thread, it’s much easier to manipulate.” Holding the needle in one hand, he gathered a ball of golden light in the other. Though he concentrated the light, it never formed into the shape of a needle.

“Try this.” Mu Qing tossed a small knife. Mo De quickly dispersed his powers, and the golden thread dissolved into shimmering lights, returning to his body.

Taking the steel knife, Mo De focused on it, channeling power through the blade. He could faintly sense the knife’s entirety. Pushing further, he tried with all his might to reshape the knife into a flying needle.

Watching Mo De’s breath quicken, his face turning crimson, Mu Qing was puzzled. Wasn’t controlling the knife to float a basic feat? Why was it proving so taxing?

She was about to interrupt him, seeing his face darken to a liverish hue, when her hand froze midair. In her vision, the steel blade began curling slowly.

“Stop, stop!” Mu Qing shouted, halting Mo De’s efforts. Drained, Mo De felt utterly exhausted, sleepiness washing over him.

“I wanted you to try levitating the object, not to melt it down and remake it,” Mu Qing said, taking the curled blade and straightening it with her fingers. Out here, in this godforsaken place, every bit of equipment was precious—even a cup was strategic supply for the two of them.

Moreover, metal-type bearers commonly fought by wielding tools or weaponry, unlike other powers with diverse manifestations. Compared to other popular abilities, their numbers were rare. But every metal-type who underwent a second awakening was sought after by major factions and even military districts. The reason was simple: after the second awakening, they could freely shape and refine metals, qualifying as “weapon forgers.” For true warriors, standardized gear was always limited—they wouldn’t want their mass-produced knives to snap during a life-or-death battle. Weapons crafted by forgers were all masterpieces: they could chop vegetables without breaking, and cleave armor with unmatched edge. Achieving the rank of master meant a life of comfort, wealth, status, and abundant resources.

“That golden thread must have been fully refined by you, allowing it to be shaped at will; replicating the process for other metals won’t be so easy. Free reshaping of metal’s structure and form takes tremendous energy and stamina, usually only researched after the second awakening. You’ve just broken through—don’t push yourself.” Mu Qing handed back the straightened knife, explaining as she looked at Mo De sprawled on the ground. “Don’t rush to reshape—try controlling the knife first.”

Wiping sweat away, Mo De took the knife and closed his eyes, attempting to establish a connection and move the blade. The steel knife wobbled upward, tracing awkward loops in the air.

“I can’t—I’m spent. Even moving this takes a lot out of me.” He let the knife fall, panting heavily, sweat pouring from his brow.

“Those in the technical branch often infuse their weapons with power, subtly altering their properties to better suit their abilities and make them easier to wield. Metal-type bearers do the same, refining weapons before they can manipulate them freely. With their affinity for metal, the process is simpler than for others.”

Taking her advice, Mo De picked up the knife, infused it with more power, and found its flight easier. Suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed through his mind—he remembered the instant before they were teleported, his condensed metal blade had touched the mysterious black flame.

“What if we tried smelting the metal with black fire?” He caught the knife and withdrew his powers, asking Mu Qing.

Mu Qing pressed her sunglasses warily, eyeing Mo De up and down—what grand, earth-shaking scheme was he plotting now?

“It’s just about time to help you pass the fire, so let’s experiment,” Mo De said, suddenly enthusiastic, moving closer to Mu Qing.

Mu Qing hesitated. The previous ordeal had indeed intensified the black fire within her, making her need to channel it, but she feared another mishap during the process—after all, their teleportation here was tied to the black flames. “If we do it here, will it cause trouble? The sheath is right there.”

“True, whatever strange thing that fellow conjured is gone, but to be safe, let’s test it first—see how the sheath reacts to the black fire.”

Retrieving the boundary stone sheath, Mo De gripped it in one hand, gently touched Mu Qing’s cheek with the other. Mu Qing lifted her sunglasses, releasing a stream of black fire to his finger. Both were on high alert, ready to break the connection at any sign of danger.

The black flame flowed from Mo De’s finger to his wrist, consumed by the black cord of fire. The boundary stone sheath in his right hand showed no reaction.

Mu Qing was about to relax, but Mo De urged her to stay vigilant. He was about to activate his powers and recreate the original scenario. Extending his index finger, a golden glow slowly appeared.

Like a slumbering lion roused from dreams, Mo De’s right hand holding the sheath was suddenly expanded by layers of barriers, forcing him to support the sheath with his palm. Familiar colored barriers appeared, followed by a hazy membrane, within which the black fire churned and burned.

Mu Qing tried to break the connection, but Mo De gently stopped her, holding her cheek, for this time the mysterious aura arose but did not resonate with anything else—no mutation occurred. Clearly, their teleportation had been caused by the membrane on the sheath interacting with whatever the middle-aged man had summoned. Now, relying on the boundary stone sheath alone, they could not repeat such large-scale spatial transport.

After waiting a while and confirming the barriers, membrane, and black fire had not caused any serious effects, both breathed a deep sigh of relief. Dispelling the metal powers, Mo De restored the sheath and returned it to its place, then sat cross-legged behind Mu Qing. Mu Qing took off her amber sunglasses, releasing the seal on the black fire. Along with darkness and burning came the warmth of the hand resting on the back of her neck.