Volume One, Chapter Forty-Nine: Alchemy of Black Fire

The searing heat rising from the depths of his eyes was drawn and absorbed by the palm pressed to the nape of his neck. Mu Qing felt as if the mounting pressure within him had finally found an outlet. Meanwhile, behind him, Mo De guided the black fire into the black cord around his wrist, then picked up the small knife and placed it on the path of the advancing phantom black flames. Like a current encountering cloth, the black stream flowed over the knife’s edge, detouring around it to continue toward its goal. Seeing his attempt at refining metal with fire fail, Mo De pondered for a moment and decided to introduce another variable.

He flicked his hand, releasing a strand of golden thread, pressing it onto the blade. The golden thread seemed to meld into the steel. With his fingers shaped like a sword, Mo De lightly tapped the air above his head, and the knife shot into the night sky. When he could no longer sense the knife’s presence, he estimated the maximum distance at which his mind could remain connected to the knife infused with gold thread was about twenty meters.

He sensed the knife reappear, falling freely back to earth. With a flick of his finger, he slowed its descent and caught the knife, now imbued with the golden thread, preparing for another clash with the black flames.

“Hurry up, will you? This is draining me fast,” Mu Qing suddenly spoke. Each time Mo De conducted a fire transfer, it was relatively easy for him, but for Mu Qing, every session was a grueling tug-of-war. The black fire accumulated within him constantly battered at the seal, and opening it to guide the flames cost him a tremendous amount of mental and physical strength.

The black fire didn’t burn through his clothing, but it made his whole body scorchingly hot. His newly changed clothes were already soaked through with sweat, disheveled bangs falling over his eyes, which glimmered with the fire’s flow.

Hearing the fatigue veiled in Mu Qing’s voice, Mo De decided to speed up, hoping to finish the fire transfer as soon as possible. The knife blade touched the stream of flame on Mu Qing’s arm once more, but this time, instead of remaining separate, the black fire wrapped around the knife, forming a ball. Within the fiery sphere, the steel blade began to change shape, first turning from black to red, then glowing yellow, and finally melting into a white-hot pool of molten steel. The knife’s non-metallic handle fell away at the initial transformation, as if the black flames had no interest in it.

Mo De glanced toward the distant pile of their luggage to check the stone scabbard—still no signs of a reaction. Relieved, he turned back to see the ball of black fire had separated from the other flames, quietly floating beside his right hand. Meanwhile, his left hand, resting on the back of Mu Qing’s neck, began to feel trembling. Mo De realized Mu Qing was nearing his limit; to continue would be too much of a strain.

“Let’s wrap up,” Mo De said, signaling Mu Qing to finish. Mu Qing, hearing this, let out a long breath of relief, fumbled for his sunglasses, and put them back on.

With the source sealed once more, the black flames, like a stream cut off from its headwaters, were quickly absorbed into the black cord. As soon as the fire transfer ended, Mu Qing got to his feet, supporting himself on his knees, and walked away. The severe drain had left his clothes drenched front and back; not wanting to expose himself to the chill of late autumn, he headed off to clean up and change.

Mo De, meanwhile, was delighted to discover that, even with the fire transfer complete and the source sealed, the molten metal ball wrapped in black fire had not vanished. Within the illusory shell, the molten sphere had shrunk several sizes, its white-hot glow tinged now with gold.

Eventually, as the phantom black fire was spent, it faded, dissolving into a wisp of darkness that vanished into the black cord around Mo De’s wrist. The metal within the flames was no longer ordinary steel, but something new.

It was a small sphere, silver-white flecked with fine gold. Reaching out, Mo De found the orb’s temperature far milder than expected. When he pinched it, a trace of gold peeled away, returning to its original golden hue, while the gold flecks nearly disappeared from the sphere, leaving only a few faint marks on its surface.

“Oh? First refinement? Hm, or perhaps not…” said Mu Qing, emerging from behind the tent after a quick shower and change, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“First love? What first love?” Mo De was baffled by Mu Qing’s words.

Rolling her eyes, Mu Qing explained patiently, “Don’t you know about primary refinement? Were you sleeping through your basic education?”

“I know that much…” Mo De scratched his head with an awkward laugh. He was still a novice in the field of supernatural abilities, unfamiliar with many of the shorthand terms.

Primary refinement generally referred to the initial process by which artifact users infused their weapons with their unique resonance, establishing a slight mental link between tool and wielder.

“This doesn’t really count, does it? It’s just the leftover material after the black fire melted the knife,” Mo De replied, handing the platinum orb to Mu Qing.

Taking the bean-sized metal sphere, Mu Qing muttered “spendthrift” before examining it more closely. The orb was cool and hard to the touch, yet when pressed firmly, it didn’t shatter but flattened into a thin disc. With a few rubs of her delicate fingers, Mu Qing squeezed and rolled the platinum ball into various shapes, playing with it as if it were putty. Watching this, Mo De swallowed hard—when he’d tried to squeeze it himself, even his considerable strength hadn’t budged it.

She rolled it into a thin wire, testing the unknown metal’s strength and flexibility. After a series of checks, Mu Qing rolled it back into a ball and handed it to Mo De.

“I’ve given it a rough check—this thing’s strength, hardness, toughness, and ductility all far surpass ordinary metals,” she reported with a stretch, while Mo De, focusing on the small sphere in his palm, missed the fleeting beauty beside him.

“This is very much like the ‘variant metal’ that artifact forgers refine—using any metal ore found in the world, but the finished product has extraordinary properties. I didn’t expect you to have such a knack for forging—maybe you should get certified as an artifact forger? If you succeed, you’ll never want for food or drink again. Metal forgers, especially those with advanced abilities, are in high demand everywhere,” Mu Qing teased with a sly smile.

Because they could create metals with exceptional qualities, high-level metal forgers were even more sought after than forgers of other elements. This was why, after the second awakening, metal users always attracted attention from powerful factions.

“Do they let you bring your own furnace to the exam?” Mo De asked, gazing straight at Mu Qing.

“You’re the furnace!” Mu Qing retorted instantly, realizing he’d made a jab at her, and spat lightly in mock indignation.

“Ahem…” Mo De cleared his throat and continued, “Let’s get serious. We’ve been through a lot today, so before bed, let’s review what we know—starting with the black fire.”

Seeing his earnest expression, Mu Qing sat down beside him. A faint fragrance and mist drifted from her side. Mo De, ever considerate, reminded her, “If you don’t dry off, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Get on with it!” Mu Qing shot back, grabbing her towel to gently dry her damp hair.

Mo De conjured a needle of dark gold energy, sending it to the ground before them. The needle contained no copper, merely a manifestation of his ability—partly a stand-in for a pen to take notes in the dirt, partly a way to practice his skill.

“First: the black fire usually appears in a phantom state and doesn’t burn things like clothing.” He wrote the first line with the energy needle, while Mu Qing added, “The phantom state might be just one form of the black flames. The day I was tainted by it, I felt a much more real fire, and I was badly burned—bedridden for days.”

One: Black fire may have different forms; its phantom state does not affect ordinary objects.

The energy needle scratched a crooked line in the dirt, like a dog’s trail. Mo De and Mu Qing continued to discuss the properties of black fire.

“The black fire keeps spreading, multiplying endlessly,” Mo De noted, glancing at Mu Qing. She nodded, and he recorded the second point. Whenever Mu Qing unsealed her sunglasses, the black fire within her would surge and proliferate, growing ever fiercer, multiplying as if with no end. This was one reason Mu Qing chose to live with Mo De.

“Spatial power can influence black fire to some extent. There was a Daoist who once used a spatial talisman to temporarily suppress the black flames on me,” Mu Qing added. Mo De made note of the connection between black fire and spatial forces.

“That day in the Qin Emperor Mountains, the gray mist you burned away with black fire—was that a spatial force too?” Mo De suddenly asked.

Mu Qing thought for a moment, then replied, “That gray mist was probably a rule of the Throne realm, but not related to spatial forces.”

Four: Black fire may be able to burn away rules of the Throne level.

“Then there’s what happened today—the membrane that could contain the black fire, and that strange thing the other one created. After the lunar tide ends, I’ll investigate what that was.”

“I’ll look into that person’s identity too. I’m very curious about what he created,” Mu Qing said, pulling an old fountain pen from the stone storage and spinning it.

“Then there’s the copper-gold radiance in my body. Using it as a guide, the black fire seems able to refine ordinary metal into ‘variant metal.’ Judging by the color, though, it’s not a complete transformation yet…”

Amid the lush oasis, the two sat side by side by the campfire, discussing their findings by firelight and moonbeam.

The night was as cool as water, the moonlight as soft as gauze. Above, besides the true full moon, several moon projections hung quietly in the high sky, spilling their pale light and coating the desert night in a layer of silver.