They were all only nine years old. Even for class one, someone already at two rings was outrageous.

Ray instinctively stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Lily and Raziel Phoenix. Facing the pressure pouring off the other party, he felt no fear. Instead, an inexplicable excitement surged in his chest.

A white soul ring rose beneath his feet, and Silverfalls Vine burst from his palms.

"Hahaha!" The boy laughed mockingly. "A single ten-year ring trash dares to act brave? This is hilarious. Relax, I won't deal with you now. I'll wait until we're on the competition stage. Then I'll teach you the difference between geniuses and garbage."

He turned away arrogantly, retracting his soul power as his body returned to normal.

"Remember this name," he said without looking back. "Ares, first grade class one."

"Bastard!" Raziel Phoenix surged forward—

Only to be yanked back as Silverfalls Vine wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Don't fall for it," Ray said calmly. "He wants us to strike first so he won't get punished. We'll settle it on the stage."

Cold light flickered in Raziel Phoenix's eyes. "So what if he has two rings? We'll see who laughs last."

Ray nodded. "I'm heading to the workshop. Teacher won't analyze opponents for us, so you two gather intel on class one. We'll discuss it tonight."

Though Raziel Phoenix still bristled, none of them could deny the pressure Ares had brought.

Nine years old. Two soul rings.

That was a true monster among geniuses.

Under normal circumstances, even class ones of other grades wouldn't see a two-ring student until at least third grade.

For the first time, Raziel Phoenix questioned himself. Was he really a genius?

"Fine," he muttered darkly. "We'll teach them a lesson tomorrow."

Lily walked over to Ray and smiled easily. "No need to worry. We'll win."

She patted his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.

Ray clenched his fists.

His teammates were powerful. Yet as their leader, his own strength was still limited.

Whether for survival or for becoming stronger, he had to obtain the Ice Crystal Fruit and Scarlet Flame Fruit as soon as possible.

When he arrived at the forging workshop, Gilbert hadn't come yet. Ray immediately began working on the forging task he had accepted earlier in the week.

With continuous practice using the Thousand Refined Heavy Silver Hammer, second-rank tasks had become routine for him. Defective products were a thing of the past. He could now accept two tasks per week, and his income had increased steadily.

After finishing, Ray took out all his savings.

Over 320,000 federation coins.

Still not enough.

But if he could accept third-rank tasks, the gap wouldn't be difficult to close.

Ray stared blankly at the hundred-refined metal in front of him.

Ever since arriving in West Ocean City, his life had changed completely. Compared to Ironspire City, this place felt like another world entirely.

After several months, the hesitation in his heart had faded. Strength, forging, cultivation—everything had given him purpose and confidence.

He remembered his father's words before he left.

Always look forward.

"That's right," Ray murmured to himself. "Only by moving forward can I see a broader world."

Just then, the door opened.

Ray hurried over. "Teacher!"

Gilbert entered in plain gray clothes, dusted with travel weariness.

"En." Gilbert replied curtly as he removed his coat.

As always, he went straight to inspect Ray's work. He picked up the freshly refined uncommon metal, examining it carefully.

"Not bad," Gilbert finally said. "Your purification is precise."

From Gilbert, that was rare praise.

"It's thanks to your guidance, Teacher," Ray said quickly.

Gilbert set the metal down and looked at him. "You've learned how to flatter now?"

Ray stuck out his tongue. "No. That came from my heart."

Gilbert crossed his arms. "Didn't you say you had something to discuss? Speak."

Ray hesitated.

Only for a moment.

Survival pressed heavily on him.

"Teacher," he said firmly, "I want to take the third-rank blacksmith examination."

Gilbert froze. "Why?"

"I need money," Ray answered honestly. "I need it to grow stronger."

Gilbert stared at him in silence.

Ray lowered his head, his heart pounding. He knew exactly why his teacher had always stopped him before.

After a long pause, Gilbert finally spoke.

"How," he asked slowly, "do you intend to improve?"

Ray answered honestly, "I want to keep practicing Thousand Refinements and earn more money. Once I save enough, I can buy a better spirit soul and eat properly at the academy. My appetite is too big, and nutritious food is too expensive."

Gilbert looked at his disciple.

In just three months, Ray had clearly grown taller and sturdier. The childishness in his face had faded, replaced by a quiet determination. Gilbert's stern expression softened unconsciously.

He let out a slow sigh.

"Perhaps… I was wrong."

Ray froze.

"In truth," Gilbert continued, "you already met the qualifications of a third-rank blacksmith the moment you completed Thousand Refinement. Your soul power may be lacking, but your innate divine strength compensates for it. More importantly, you can enter a deep mental state while forging, fully devote yourself, and even sense the 'life' within metal."

Gilbert shook his head slightly. "At your age, that is astonishing."

"One reason I delayed your promotion was fear. I was afraid that exposing you too early to the broader world of blacksmithing would make you arrogant, that your talent would ruin your future. But I overlooked something crucial."

He looked directly at Ray.

"Whether one is a Soul Master or a blacksmith, cultivation requires enormous resources. In the end, the only person you can rely on… is yourself. I was selfish."

Ray stared at his teacher as if dreaming. "Teacher… does that mean you'll let me take the third-rank blacksmith test?"

Gilbert nodded.

"Take it. Since my disciple possesses such exceptional talent, what reason do I have to keep him buried?"

Joy burst from Ray's chest. "Thank you, Teacher! Thank you!"

Gilbert's face returned to its usual seriousness. "Don't celebrate too soon. Once you become a third-rank blacksmith, your status in the blacksmithing world will change. I'll have the Association keep your identity quiet for now, but you must remain low-key."

"Yes, Teacher!" Ray replied without hesitation.

Gilbert continued, his voice heavy.

"Ray, I've been stuck at sixth-rank blacksmith for many years. Not because I lack effort or talent, but because I lack soul power. Without sufficient soul power, I can never step into the realm of Saint Craftsman."

"In the past ten thousand years, soul devices have advanced rapidly. Ordinary people can now wield power once reserved for Soul Masters. Mecha, weapons, technology… they've changed the continent."

He paused.

"But despite everything, Xynnar Continent is still ruled by Soul Masters. No matter the profession, soul power determines the peak."

"A divine-rank Mecha Master must possess at least eight soul rings. Likewise, a Saint Craftsman requires seven rings, a martial soul's true body, and absolute mastery over one's soul."

Gilbert's gaze dimmed slightly. "That is why I knew I could never reach that realm. And why I told you, from the moment you arrived, to focus on cultivation."

"With your divine strength, once you reach fifth-rank craftsmanship, the demands on your soul power and spiritual strength will be terrifying. Do not be stingy with resources. Eat well. Cultivate harder."

"Yes!" Ray replied firmly.

Gilbert rarely spoke so much. Seeing his teacher like this made Ray's heart tighten. His soul power lagged behind others, and becoming a powerful Soul Master felt impossibly distant. But there was no choice.

He could only move forward.

Gilbert suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Ray.

"There's another reason I came today," he said. "This letter is from your father."

Ray froze. "Why didn't Dad just call me?"

"Read it," Gilbert replied quietly. "You'll understand."

A bad feeling crept into Ray's chest as he opened the envelope.

Inside were two cards and a letter.

His father's familiar handwriting filled the page.

Ray, my son.

By the time you read this letter, your mother and I will already be far away.

Father has always been selfish. I let you endure hardship so that I could live peacefully. When it came time for your spirit soul, I was powerless, and you had to accept a trash one.

That night, your father cried.

Because I lacked ability, you were forced to learn forging at such a young age. I don't regret it, but I still made you suffer. Father is sorry.

In truth, your father is a mecha designer. Long ago, one of my designs attracted powerful figures. They wanted to control me. I chose to flee with your mother to Ironspire City and live as ordinary people.

But an ordinary life… isn't suitable for me.

For your sake, I will return to my old trade.

The two cards enclosed: one is your identity card. The other is a continental bank card. It contains one million federation coins, the payment for signing a contract as a mecha designer. It's enough to buy you a hundred-year spirit soul.

This is all I can do for now. When I earn more, I'll send it to this account.

Son, you are gifted. Walk toward the apex. Don't look back. Remember what I told you: in this world, the only one you can rely on is yourself.

I believe you will reach the pinnacle.

Don't look for us. We're somewhere no one can find. We won't contact you again for now, but I know your communicator number. When things settle, I will come find you.

Your mother and I love you.

We will love you forever.

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