The rhythmic sound of hammering continued. I quietly sipped my wine, watching Eugene Smithson strike the orange-red sword on the table. The blade was already formed, yet Smithson kept hammering, and faint orange ripples radiated across its surface. The sword was about thirty centimeters wide and still unsharpened.
The repeated hammering had made me restless over time, but at this moment, everything felt unusually quiet. Black Moon stood guard nearby, ready to provide whatever Smithson required.
I glanced around—there was still no sword hilt. I got up and walked over.
"Why is there no hilt?"
Smithson paused, then placed the sword back into the Ghostfire Pool. Instantly, the red ripples on the blade stirred to life. I could sense the power of Hell flowing through the sword—faint, but already taking shape, circulating within like ripples quietly undulating across the blade.
"It will have one."
Smithson smiled without answering. From my observations, I realized this sword's material was not the finest, yet under Smithson's forging, its edge could already be felt even before sharpening. It was clear I'd made the right choice asking him to forge these weapons.
I watched the orange-red blade, enveloped in flames, quietly suspended above the Ghostfire Pool, burning in the inferno. After a while, Smithson clamped the sword out and set it on the forge, hammering along its edge.
I did a rough calculation—if each weapon took this long to forge, it would take years to complete all eighteen. Time meant little to me, but I couldn't predict how the war in the world of Yin and Yang would change.
"Call Hades down for me."
I spoke, and Black Moon bowed before transforming into a streak of silvery light and vanishing. I noticed that with each strike Smithson made, a faint trace of white light emerged from the blade. At that moment, his body appeared blazing hot in my eyes, his gaze burning with fervor, his face as sharp and cold as a sword.
After a while, Smithson stopped. I watched as the red ripples on the blade slowly began to move. Smithson smiled, his eyes turning gold-red, which surprised me.
Eye of True Sight—this is what gold-red eyes signify. I never expected Smithson to possess such eyes; he seemed like just an ordinary ghost. These eyes represent the pinnacle of vision, able to perceive things that were previously invisible and unnoticed.
"So that's it. Your name is Rippleblade!"
I looked at Smithson in confusion as he turned to speak.
"This sword is called Rippleblade."
I looked at Smithson in confusion, and he shook his head.
"Most people may never hear this sword's voice in their lifetime. You can't hear it, but Ethan Zhang can."
I smiled helplessly.
"Unfortunately, I am Ethan Zhang, but I am also Hell itself, so I can't hear it. The only sound I can hear is the sound of destruction!"
Smithson picked up a smaller hammer and began to strike with steady, powerful blows.
With a crisp clang, I watched in surprise as faint ripples slowly spread around Smithson. The red ripples were strong at first, but, like smoke rings, gradually dispersed and faded as they expanded. Intrigued, I moved closer and reached out, but when Smithson struck again, the ripples did not appear.
"She is very afraid of you, so it's better if you stay back."
I replied with an 'oh' and retreated to the table. With each strike from Smithson, ripples continually spread around him, overlapping irregularly and drifting like clouds.
Enchanted by this strange, mesmerizing sight, I sat at the edge of the table, quietly drinking and watching. I noticed that the once pale orange blade now emitted wisps of orange smoke, intertwining with the red ripples—like clouds, yet the scene resembled gently flowing water.
This was the first time I'd seen such a thing—a weapon releasing its own power. Yet, to my eyes, this power was still too weak, since the sword's material was sourced from the middle layers of Hell. The deeper the material, the stronger the weapon.
I began to wonder if I could really defeat Jade Zeng. I glanced at her standing respectfully nearby, smiled, and beckoned. Jade Zeng floated over immediately.
"What do you think of this weapon?"
I asked, and Jade Zeng responded with some apprehension.
"It's very good."
I patted her hand.
"Relax, I'm not a bad person. There's no need to be so afraid of me. From now on, you're one of my subordinates—understand?"
Jade Zeng nodded immediately and tried to bow to me, but I stopped her.
"I told you to keep it casual. So, what do you think of that weapon?"
"It feels indescribable."
Jade Zeng said, and I nodded. I felt the same way—clearly weak, yet not at all. Smithson kept polishing, showing no signs of stopping.
My anticipation grew. What would happen once this weapon was finished? And what would happen when it was used in battle?
Days passed like this. Smithson hammered more and more, each session growing longer and more intense. The orange-red streams disappeared, and the sword now looked calm and steady—no longer sharp, but like the gentle flow of a small river, its surface unbroken, seemingly still yet quietly moving beneath.
After more than ten days of relentless hammering, Smithson finally stopped. He walked slowly to the table and sat calmly at its edge. I stared at the sword without a hilt, puzzled, and asked:
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"No hilt?"
"It will have one, naturally. All right, the first weapon is finished. You can let some of the dead try to draw the sword—whoever succeeds will become its vessel and master."
I responded and slowly drifted toward the sword named Rippleblade. At that moment, red ripples began to undulate across the blade, and the flow of power within became extremely unstable.
I placed my hand on the blade, and instantly it trembled even more violently. I was thrilled by this weapon—I had never seen anything like it before.
The moment I picked up Rippleblade, there was a sharp crack. The sword started to split, fractures spreading quickly. I stared wide-eyed, blinking, completely baffled, and turned to Smithson, whose face remained utterly calm.
Holding the now fractured Rippleblade, I saw it was about to shatter completely. I floated to Smithson, presenting the sword.
"It's broken—this weapon has failed, hasn't it?"
Smithson shook his head at my words.
"Put it down and see."
I set the nearly shattered sword on the white table. To my amazement, the cracks began to heal, though very slowly.
"Step back. This sword is afraid of you."
I floated away, and Smithson patted the blade. After a moment, I saw Rippleblade resting intact on the table.
"What exactly is going on?"
I asked, and Smithson replied.
"Let the dead try to draw the sword quickly!"
I sighed, but Hades still hadn't arrived. I went to my seat and sat down. Smithson took the sword and returned it to the forge.
Smithson didn't seem willing to explain, which puzzled me. After a weapon is used for a while, sometimes a spirit forms within good weapons. But the spirit is just a part of the user—though it can think independently, it's ultimately a manifestation of the user's consciousness. Power gradually infuses the weapon, and over time, a spirit emerges to synchronize the user and weapon, allowing both to reach their full potential.
This sword is different—it seems to have its own consciousness from the moment it was forged. This astonished me, though I felt nothing unusual; to me, it was just a sword.
A streak of silvery light descended—Hades now stood before me.
"How goes the war?"
"We're about to collapse. Old Hell keeps attacking, and now the Ghost Lords have decided to abandon their outpost on the Shuzhou Plain and retreat to Nether Hell for a last stand. That place is easy to defend and hard to attack, whereas the plains are highly advantageous for the enemy."
I smiled helplessly.
"Looks like they're finished. What do the Judges of the Underworld plan to do?"
I rested my chin in my hand, smiling as I asked. It didn't matter to me who won—the war's outcome was irrelevant. The Wraithlord could hardly be revived now. That special ritual in Wind and Snow River was a product of Hell's imprint, an endlessly layered space. Three Blood Jade fragments are inside; without the Wraithlord's Seven Souls, the Three Souls can't unite, which benefits me greatly. Now I just need to wait for the war to end, and all I want to see is how Hades performs in battle.
"Cursefire has already been deployed, but everything in the mortal world is stable for now."
Hades spoke, and I responded. At that moment, Hades also noticed Rippleblade.
"It's a strange sword. Let me show you."