Eternal Cultivation Of Alchemy

Before Godslayer was the Artifact God, before even he was Steelmind, he was Han Mengli, a young boy born on the great interrealm ship Darkwater, in the midst of its travel from the Golden Dao Realm to the Five Elements Realm.

His parents were both fighters in the army of the Dark God, one of the most influential gods out there. To be a member of his circle was an honor that one could not simply repay.

Darkwater was one of his great ships, carrying his army of over 200 Divinities, 5,000 Immortals, and countless Saints wherever the war required him to. This ship had been on its course for nearly two decades now. It was only a decade more before they reached the next realm.

Han Mengli was born on this ship, like many of the other children around him. In the midst of war, the soldiers were pressured to have as many children as possible. The more there were, the better it was for the war efforts.

Han Mengli had a younger sister too, one who had been born only a couple of months ago. She was still an infant, taken care of by his parents—parents he rarely got to see.

After the age of twelve, the children were made to cultivate and train to prepare for the war. At sixteen, Han Mengli was now at the True Lord 3rd Realm.

With other children already reaching the Saint Realm long ago, he was considered to lack the talent required to help in the war directly. Resources could not be spared on such children, so Han Mengli no longer got to enjoy the quiet times that came with cultivation.

Instead, he was forced to help the war through other means.

Han Mengli wasn’t even given the choice of where he went. He was simply thrown to the forges, forced to toil away in the hot room, burning coals to keep the furnace hot while older smiths melted ores and made weapons and armor out of them.

He was paid in a pitiful amount of Spirit Stones to continue cultivating, unlike previously when there would be so many. Life seemed so dull at that moment for him.

From sixteen to twenty, Han Mengli did nothing else but work in the furnace, throwing coals into the fire. Sometimes, he would wonder why they didn’t just use a simple formation to keep the flames on.

But he supposed there was a lack of Spirit Stones for that. The war was about gaining more Spirit Stones from what he had heard, so people used as little as they needed.

During the time he worked the forge, he would only get to meet his parents once every few months. When he did, he tried to talk to them to see what was going on, but he rarely got anything out of them.

He could see it in their eyes, even though they tried very hard to hide it.

He was a disappointment. Han Mengli knew he was.

His sister grew each time he saw her, unrecognizable from the last time. The last time he had come, she had barely been able to say the word “Han.” But now she could say his entire name.

There was at least that bit of happiness there.

After he reached twenty, Han Mengli moved up in the chain of command. With more children born that reached the age of work, more were being sent to the forge. So, he got to do something else instead.

He went from putting in coal to handling the flames. Each metal required a certain temperature in order to melt, so his job was to maintain the flow of coals based on what metal was being smelted.

His superior in this task was a woman whose name no longer existed in his memories—just a smile that he fondly remembered now. Han Mengli liked this woman, and if given the chance, he would certainly want to court her.

The woman taught him about the different metals, about their different properties. To impress her, he learned about them to the best of his capabilities. He even asked his parents to help get him books on metals and forging.

So, the next time he visited them, his parents got him a rudimentary book on blacksmithing and artifacts. Every day after work, Han Mengli would read through the book, and the next day, he would try to impress the woman with his new knowledge.

The woman certainly acted surprised, but whether that was genuine or not, he would never know.

At the age of twenty-five, he moved up the ranks once more. This time, his job was to strike down on hot metals as they were pulled out of molds. The metals had to be refined, so his job was to help with that.

He struck hot metals all day, the sound of the hammer leaving a constant ringing in his ears afterward. He wasn’t paid much still, but it was more than what the starters got.

At least now it was substantial enough that he could start saving.

Han Mengli used as little as he could get away with in order to save the Spirit Stones. He wanted to buy something for the woman and surprise her with it.

At the same time, he couldn’t let his efficiency drop in the forge, so he had to do more with less. The knowledge he gained from the book his parents bought him could only get him so far now, so he needed some other way.

But there was no one to teach him another way. He had to learn it himself.

Han Mengli struck the hammer on the anvil until his arm felt like falling off every day, trying to keep up with the quota. As he did, he slowly gained understanding of forging—the angle at which he needed to strike down the hammer, the minimum strength he would need.

Little by little, he learned things from practice that he couldn’t from the book, and his talent for forging, which no one had ever known was there, began to flourish.