For the next two days, Lin Feng did not return to the Crying Rift Valley.

The fog in the Rift Valley had vanished, and the monsters were gone too; going there would have been pointless.

He simply focused all his attention on his territory.

On the morning of the first day, he ascended the city walls of Beacon Fire Town.

The twenty-meter-high walls shimmered with a bluish-gray hue in the morning light; the bricks were hard, and the marks of axes and chisels were still clearly visible.

Lin Feng walked along the battlements, and when he reached the southern side, he came to a halt.

Outside the city, vast stretches of farmland spread out, extending to the very edge of his vision.

It wasn't just a few scattered plots like before, but entire expanses of tilled land; the neat ridges were like the palm lines of the earth, stretching out one after another.

Wooden stakes were driven into the ridges, dividing the fields into orderly sections.

Li San and Li Si were squatting at the edge of a field, surrounded by a group of working Awakened from Blue Star.

Some were measuring the land, some were distributing seeds, and others were carrying hoes further out.

Figures moved to and fro among the fields; from a distance, they looked like a swarm of busy ants.

Lin Feng stood on the wall, watching for a long time.

He remembered that a month ago, this place was still a wasteland.

The withered grass had been waist-high, rustling in the wind, with nothing else there.

And now? Five thousand mu of land. Five thousand mu.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Lin Feng's mouth as he turned and walked down from the wall.

On the second day, he went to North Slope Village.

The village was much livelier than the last time he had visited.

A few families of the miners had moved in, setting up several sheds at the eastern end of the village to sell food and daily necessities.

Lin Feng did not stop, heading straight for the mine shaft.

A stone-paved road had been laid at the entrance of the mine, extending all the way to the center of the village.

As Lin Feng approached the mine, he saw that the main shaft went straight down, with a wooden winch mounted at the opening and two large baskets suspended by thick hemp ropes.

Two miners standing by the winch quickly stepped aside when they saw Lin Feng.

"Lord, are you going down?" one of them asked.

Lin Feng nodded and stepped into the basket. The miner released the winch, and the basket descended slowly.

On both sides of the shaft walls, spiral tunnels wound their way down.

Every few meters, there were wooden supports with torches held in iron rings, illuminating the way ahead.

The firelight flickered against the shaft walls, casting the grayish-white rock layers into alternating light and shadow.

The basket descended slowly as Lin Feng observed the structure of the surrounding tunnels.

The main shaft went straight down, but horizontal drifts branched out from the walls like the roots of a great tree, extending in all directions.

Some drifts were wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side; others were so narrow that only one person could pass through sideways.

Every so often, he could see miners busy in the drifts, and the sound of pickaxes striking rock echoed from the depths—clink, clank—like a somber melody.

Tian Jian followed him down in another basket, shouting from a few meters away, "Lord, this structure is most suitable for large-scale mining.

"The main shaft is used for transporting ore and personnel, while the drifts are for mining."

Lin Feng nodded. The basket continued its descent; the further down they went, the cooler the air became, and a damp, metallic scent wafted toward him.

The firelight cast giant shadows on the shaft walls, as if something were writhing deep within the rock.

After about fifteen minutes, the basket finally hit the bottom. The bottom of the shaft was much more spacious than the top, and he could see the spiral tunnels winding upwards.

Several oil lamps hung on the shaft walls, lighting up the bottom as bright as day.

A pile of ore was stacked in the corner, with several blunted pickaxes lying beside it.

Tian Jian jumped out of the basket and pointed to a drift extending from the shaft wall, saying:

"Lord, this way leads to the main ore vein.

"In the past two days, we've dug over thirty meters into the drift, and the density of the Mithril is getting higher and higher."

Lin Feng followed him into the drift.

The tunnel wasn't high; he had to lower his head slightly to pass through.

On the rock walls on both sides, the silver-white veins of Mithril grew denser, shimmering with a cold luster under the torchlight.

He reached out to touch the veins, feeling a cold sensation at his fingertips. Mithril.

"Is the output stable?" he asked.

Tian Jian followed behind him, his voice echoing in the tunnel, "It's stable—thirty units of raw ore every day, not a bit less."

Lin Feng nodded and said nothing more.

He walked through the tunnel for a while, then turned back to the bottom of the shaft and stepped into the basket.

"Going up."

The winch turned, and the basket rose slowly. The tunnels on the shaft walls flew by one by one, like the rings of time.

The firelight flickered before his eyes, wax and wane.

Coming out of the mine, the sunlight was so piercing that he squinted.

He stood at the entrance, took a deep breath of fresh air, and then walked toward the western end of the village.

Tian Zheng was standing in front of a newly built furnace, directing several craftsmen as they finished the final touches.

The furnace wasn't large, about as high as a person, built with fireclay and blue bricks, with the inner walls smoothed flat.

The hearth was wide, capable of holding several crucibles at once.

Beside the furnace stood a hand-cranked bellows, the interface of the air pipe tightly sealed with mud.

"Lord." Tian Zheng wiped the sweat from his forehead upon seeing him. "It will be finished today, and the furnace can be started tomorrow."

Lin Feng walked around the furnace and touched the wall. The fireclay was already dry, feeling rough but sturdy to the touch.

"How much can it smelt at once?"

"Ninety units of raw ore," Tian Zheng said. "The hearth is only so big; any more and it won't burn evenly.

"Ninety units go in, and thirty units of pure Mithril come out."

Lin Feng nodded and didn't ask further.

Early on the third morning, Lin Feng returned to North Slope Village.

The furnace was already burning. Tian Zheng stood before it, a long iron hook in hand, occasionally opening the door to check the situation inside.

The fire burned brightly, the orange-red glow reflecting on his face, his old eyes filled with focus.

The miners poured ninety units of raw Mithril ore into the crucibles in batches, covered them, and pushed them into the hearth.

Tian Zheng personally cranked the bellows, stroke by stroke, with a steady rhythm.

The fire grew hotter and hotter, until even the furnace walls /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ began to glow slightly red.

After about half an hour, Tian Zheng set down the bellows and used the iron hook to pull out the crucibles.

Inside the crucibles, a silver-white liquid rippled in the firelight, looking like molten moonlight.

There were no impurities, no bubbles—it was so pure that one couldn't look away.

Tian Zheng carefully poured the liquid into the pre-prepared molds.

The silver-white liquid flowed slowly, filling every corner of the molds, its surface shimmering with a faint, rainbow-like luster.

Cooling. Setting.

Tian Zheng used iron tongs to lift out the first piece of Mithril and placed it on the anvil.