Longevity Martial Arts: Grinding Experience in the Chaotic World-Chapter 167 - 113: Helian Tie Lan! Intercepting halfway!

Clang! Clang!

Within the underground cave, the relentless sound of pounding iron echoed throughout, chaotic yet rhythmically persistent.

Suddenly.

The hammering ceased, replaced by the muffled cries of alarm emanating from the gathered crowd. Leng Yun frowned deeply, his already grim mood descending further into irritation.

He pushed through the throng of people and found a blacksmith, bare-chested, collapsing to the ground with blood spurting from his mouth. The man’s eyes were wide open, his body convulsing uncontrollably.

Relentless days and nights of toil, combined with consuming the potion meant to stimulate hidden potential.

The blacksmith had finally reached his limit.

Dying suddenly and on the spot!

The surrounding blacksmiths watched this scene unfold, their weary eyes tinged with sorrow. The death of one was a stark reminder that tomorrow, it could just as easily be one of them.

In truth.

This was not the first blacksmith to die suddenly.

Each day, blacksmiths dropped dead as their potential was pushed to the extreme, and each day, new ones were dragged here in their place.

"What are you staring at? Haven’t you seen a dead man before?"

Leng Yun roared.

"Get back to work! If the heavy armor task isn’t completed, none of you will be leaving here alive!!"

His cold eyes swept over them, causing all the blacksmiths to tremble. The Black Sand Gang members quickly sprang into action, roughly herding the gathered workers back to their posts to continue pounding away.

Leng Yun spat fiercely.

Disgust reflected in his gaze.

"Drag the body out and bury it somewhere. Anywhere will do."

He let out a heavy breath, suppressing the frustration brewing in his chest. He was well aware of Han Lu’s death.

"That damn butcher! If I ever encounter you, I’ll make sure you regret it!"

It wasn’t that he harbored any genuine feelings for Han Lu; no, his outrage stemmed from the lost opportunity. Han Lu had been his ticket—so long as Han Lu spoke favorably of him to the Gang Leader, his own position could have risen.

Now, it was all for naught.

Unless he managed to flawlessly complete the task of forging heavy armor, he shouldn’t even dare to dream of advancement.

Competition within the Black Sand Gang was equally fierce.

Though Leng Yun was the Wind Hall Master and had reasonable strength, his foundation was too weak.

"Listen up, all of you! If two sets of heavy armor aren’t forged by today, don’t even think about eating!"

Leng Yun couldn’t contain his fury, and his shouting sent a wave of anger flickering across the weary faces of the blacksmiths.

Wanting a horse to run fast without feeding it grass.

The resentment among the blacksmiths continued to build, threatening to erupt at any moment. Were it not for the large number of Black Sand Gang enforcers present, a rebellion might have already taken root.

A whip lashed out irritably, landing on a blacksmith’s back, leaving a bright, bloody mark. Leng Yun sneered coldly before striding away.

In a distant corner.

A female blacksmith with formidable arms, disheveled hair, and dirt-streaked clothes silently hammered away, beads of sweat flying into the furnace before her, sizzling as they landed.

If Gu Sheng were here, he’d instantly recognize her.

She was none other than the long-vanished ’Blacksmith.’

Her real name—Helian Tie Lan. She had been brought here only recently.

Helian Tie Lan, who had long roamed the black market, had naturally attracted the Black Sand Gang’s attention. Previously cautious, she swiftly packed her belongings and left upon detecting something amiss. That was precisely when Gu Sheng visited her courtyard, only to find it empty.

But fate had other plans.

Helian Tie Lan’s chosen new hideout turned out to be White Stone Town. She had planned to flee to another county if things became unfavorable in Canghe County. What she hadn’t anticipated was running straight into the chaos of warring militias besieging the town. In a desperate effort to shelter a few orphaned beggars, she ended up becoming trapped herself and was eventually seized.

Reflecting on these events, her hammering grew heavier.

Helian Tie Lan kept a low profile, forging armor silently and avoiding drawing attention. Yet, deep down, she refused to let go of hope.

She understood.

Counting on the Black Sand Gang for any act of mercy was a pipe dream. The day the heavy armors were completed would likely be the day these blacksmiths were slaughtered.

To survive, she had to rely on herself.

Bit by bit, she discreetly expelled the so-called nourishing potion from her system. Helian Tie Lan knew all too well that this so-called potion was nothing but poison draining life force. While it seemed to ignite latent strength temporarily, in truth, it merely burned away vitality.

When life force was exhausted, the fate awaiting her was no different from those who had dropped dead here—sudden death.

Her eyes flickered surreptitiously toward her surroundings.

The rhythm of her hammering subtly shifted.

Clang! Clang! Clang...!

No one in the Black Sand Gang noticed. However, further away, the hammering rhythm of several other blacksmiths began to change as well.

These few.

Were clever individuals skilled in cultivation, now using their expertise to exchange information via the rhythm of their hammer strikes—a trick only the most adept blacksmiths could master.

Though complex messages couldn’t be conveyed, simple ones were no problem.

"Leng Yun rests for two hours at midnight, and again for two hours late morning, though otherwise sporadically..."

"The western side is weakest in defense..."

The blacksmiths’ eyes glinted with determination.

They exchanged information through the rhythmic clanging, and afterward returned to feigned ignorance.

To escape.

They would need to bide their time and wait for the right opportunity.

...

Canghe County.

Wang Chong hurried down the street, his head bowed, his expression grim with worry.

Zhao Honglie had only given him half a month. If he couldn’t establish contact with the Order of the Sacred Flame within that time, his fate was sealed.

As for running away?

Impossible.

Zhao Honglie had already poisoned him with an intestinal toxin that required periodic doses of its antidote. Without it, his insides would rot, and he’d die an excruciating death.