The Weight of the Mountain: A Handyman's Journey
Dauntless Dragon Sect — One of the Six Immortal Sects
A sect known for body refining, blacksmithing, and the forging of immortal artifacts
The Dauntless Dragon Sect stood like a titan among mountains—its peaks crowned with clouds, its caverns aglow with forge-fires that had burned for centuries. This was a land where the hammer rang louder than the flute, where cultivators tempered their bones as much as their spirit, and where the clang of steel echoed through the qi-saturated air.
Unlike sects that pursued fleeting illusion or ephemeral daoist philosophy, the Dauntless Dragon Sect valued substance—power honed through calloused palms, tempered muscles, and artifacts that outlasted dynasties.
But even here, at the base of the mountain, below the outer court and far beneath the golden halls of the inner sanctum, life for a handyman disciple was as grueling as it was thankless.
It was here, in the furnace-breath shadow of greatness, that Shao Feng, Lu Ming, and Meng Jingzhu began their journey.
Shao Feng had arrived with steady steps and a bowed head, bearing no emblems of pride despite the legacy flowing through his veins. His father was once an inner disciple of the very sect whose gates now towered above; he may have left the sect to forge his own path and now started his own business , His mother, once a disciple of the Tianjin Pavilion, now runs the business with his father.
But in the Dauntless Dragon Sect, none of that mattered. Here, the weight of one's past was worth less than a properly quenched blade.
So Shao Feng said nothing of his lineage.
Instead, he worked. Quietly. Relentlessly.
His hands, though not yet hardened by the forge, showed signs of steadiness—something the senior disciples noted in silence.
He met Lu Ming while cleaning spirit soot from the artifact furnaces. The other youth was tall, thin, and always spoke as though the world owed him a laugh.
"Soot is just sky-dirt," Lu Ming said, smearing a line across his cheek like war paint. "Only difference is, this dirt bites."
Lu Ming claimed to have come from a poor sect on the frontier—an orphan, he said, with nothing but guts and a silver tongue. No one believed him completely, but no one could disprove it either.
What they didn't know—what even Shao Feng and Meng Jingzhu didn't know—was that Lu Ming bore the blood of Great Confucian, a figure high within the Jade Light Villa's, an organisation within Seven Territorial Sects advisory council. As a child of the dead wife Lu Ming could have anything he wanted due to his father and he could have joined the Jade Light Villa and become a Confucian but he left to find his place in the world without the shelter of his father's name.
He took nothing seriously, but watched everything with sharp, calculating eyes.
Meng Jingzhu's arrival was anything but subtle.
He walked through the gates like he owned them, tall,broad-shouldered and handsome , his every step defiant of the mud he treaded on. Though he carried no official recommendation letter, the searing yang energy around him made several elders pause.
Many were certain he was from some good family.
When asked why someone of his cultivation and bloodline had chosen the handyman path, he simply said:
"I'm here to earn the Dao with my own hands. Not my family's coin."
What he didn't say was that he hailed from the Meng Clan, an elite family of cultivators in the capital, known to wield immense political, monetary and martial strength. His departure had not been an escape, but a statement. He had left after a proper farewell, much to the chagrin of his elders. They thought he will come back with unreasonable strength if went without telling them but he refused their reasoning and said farewell to his family.
Now, in the forge smoke and training grounds of the Dauntless Dragon Sect, he sought to forge not just weapons—but himself.
Their friendship began on the second day, while hauling enchanted ore from the lower mines.
The job required moving blackstone—a dense mineral used in body-tempering baths. Most handymen struggled with the weight. Meng carried three loads. Shao Feng endured gritting his teeth , face slick with sweat. Lu Ming feigned injury, only to take over when the overseer wasn't looking.
"You should grunt and shout when you lift," Meng said to Shao Feng, wiping his brow.
"I'd rather breathe."
"Suit yourself. I like to let the mountain know I'm stronger than it."
Lu Ming laughed, flopping onto a boulder. "If you two are done mating rituals, I'll be over here trying not to die."
That broke the tension. That night, they shared soup, patched each other's robes, and for some time, sat side by side beneath the crooked pine tree that overlooked the outer sect dorms.
From that point forward, they were rarely seen apart.
Together, they finished the joint tasks early which would have taken a long time for anyone else.
Elder Tu sometimes gave them the task to clean the floor of the outer sect and shine the glass of Pavilion halls.
And The trio always obeyed.
Meng Jingzhu progressed rapidly, his Yang Spirit Body made his body preparation to cultivate fast . Lu Ming struggled at first, often nodding off mid-meditation and exercise , but once corrected, he adapted fast and started to exercise more.
Shao Feng's growth was not that slow, but more methodical as he did his handyman task everyday and exercise at dusk and dawn.
But life as a handyman wasn't limited to cultivation.
They were tasked with cleaning forge ducts clogged with molten residue, grinding spiritual ores into powder, chopping wood from the thunder-bark trees in the east ridge. It was grueling, mind-numbing work, with little recognition.
Still, there was honor in toil.
And the trio grew.
Shao Feng's grip grew stronger from swinging a pickaxe ten thousand times. Meng learned precision while etching runes into raw steel. Lu Ming practiced sleight of hand by filching spirit iron scraps no one would miss—and returning them precisely where they belonged.
Their teamwork began to attract attention.
One day, they were assigned to assist a senior brother to make a artifact which will make him from a simple blacksmith to formally a certified Artifact Refiner
The senior brother named Dwa was a small man his height was relative of Shao Feng and he was still a twelve year old boy.
Apparently Senior Dwa was twenty year old and was a genius in forging. He could have been an artifact refiner much younger if he only listend to the elders but he was too unorthodox, always mixing different metals to make new alloys.
Once he made a sword of rubies and gems which looked magnificent but its capabilities at cutting and stabbing were horrendous; the sword was then gifted to the Vermillion Emperor who sometimes uses it as a Ceremonial Sword.
There were six disciples helping Senior Dwa to make an Artifact the trios task was to keep giving the metal their Senior Brother asked them to.
The task was going smoothly until the disaster happened Senior Brother Dwa in his curiosity and confidence mixed two metals which were highly likely to combust under high heat and continuous blows.
Clang Clang Clang
Under the sound of hammers striking the red hot mixture of metal exploded the hammer rebounded and hit the head of Senior Dwa who lost his consciousness after the hammer strike.
Boom shiiiink
The forge ignited even more and the temperature of the room suddenly increased; the other three handyman disciples were also knocked out due to the explosion.
"You two save them I will try to cool down the forge" hearing Shao Fang's voice the two come out of their shock and hurried to save the downed four people.
Meng Jingzhu ran towards the unconscious senior Dwa and hauled his unconscious body on his shoulders and with his other free hand he clutched the leg of one of the other handyman disciple and started running towards the exit.
Lu Ming too carried the two unconscious disciples and quickly exited the room. Then he came back and activated the cooling Rune inscribed on the wall of the smithy.
And Shao Fang he ran towards the corner of the room where he saw a few buckets of Heavy Yellow Soil and started throwing it at the forge and on top of the burning metal after a few minutes then it started to fizzle and only smoke came out .
Shao Feng exhausted nearly collapsed on the floor but Lu Ming and Jingzhu caught him took him outside of the room.
"How did you know that soil will help to put out the fire?" Meng Jingzhu asked after taking a few breaths.
"Blacksmithing can sometimes get really dangerous, the metals sometimes explode, sometimes forge goes out of control and to remove the danger nearly all blacksmiths keep heavy yellow soil in the room with them. As the name implies the heavy yellow soil is very heavy and can put out fire rather quickly. My father is also a blacksmith so he taught me many different things". Shao Feng answered.
"Exactly" a voice said
"Head Elder" we all saluted to the old Man in white robes smiling at us "you all stopped a disaster and saved the life of your fellow disciples you will receive a proper reward and 500 contribution points" and with a wave of his stick he carried the four unconscious disciples .
The next day, their meals were doubled. A jade slip containing Body-Hammering Method: Bronze Skin Phase was delivered to their quarters. And from that day forward, they were watched—not just by other disciples, but by elders.
Still, none of them revealed who they were.
They trained.
They bled.
They endured.
Under the guidance of Elder Tu, they began to combine different body refinement exercise. Every morning, before the sun touched the peaks, they practiced the Thundering Spine Routine, a brutal set of motions that strengthened bones, organs, and tendons.
Meng's yang energy gave him a radiant glow during these sessions—each strike echoing like a war drum.
Shao Feng's movements were simple but powerful, the ground vibrating beneath his feet.
Lu Ming… Lu Ming cursed the whole process, but never missed a single day.
Their bond deepened.
They spoke of cultivation dreams, of someday forging a weapon worthy of the sect's founder—a blade that could split mountains and silence dragons or a Warhammer that could crush a mountain.
They joked about starting their own sub-sect within the sect: The torn blue Robe Brotherhood.
"We'll recruit other fools who don't know when to quit," Meng Jingzhu said.
"Maybe I will be the sect leader or Grand elder." Shao Fang boasted.
"As long as you're doing the laundry you will be the Sect Leader," Lu Ming shot back.
"No let Jingzhu be the Sect leader then" Shao Fang shot back.
"I will be the Sect Leader then and I won't do laundry, I will hire some servants for that. " Meng Jingzhu grinned and continued boasting about his grand plan for our imaginary sect.