Sting!

A sword pierced to the end, piercing through nine layers of animal skin.

Su Yuanfang let go of the hilt of the sword, letting the sword stay on the screen, and then took a step back.

The audience suddenly erupted in applause and applause, especially the solemn disciples, whose faces were red with excitement and excited.

When the crowd stopped, Su Yuanfang took the clothes cutting sword cast by Ye Changsheng and came to the second screen.

With the same posture, the same strength, and the same angle, the bronze sword stabbed straight forward.

Sting!

A sword to the end, piercing through nine layers of animal skin.

The audience was silent, and the faces of Mu Qingke and other bigwigs became more and more gloomy.

If others can't hear it, how can they, the swordsmiths, not hear it?

When Ye Changsheng's clothes slashing sword pierced into the screen, his voice was short and powerful, clean and neat, and there was hardly any burr sound.

What does this mean, it shows that the resistance of the sword body, especially the tip of the sword, has been reduced to the limit.

Almost without looking at the results, they already had the answer, and this time, solemn or lost.

Sure enough, when the two apprentices stepped forward and carefully took off the two swords, the cracks left on the animal skin were also clearly exposed in front of everyone's eyes.

Everyone fell silent again, solemnly the animal skin pierced by the sword, and the crack was opened, very neatly.

However, the crack in the animal skin pierced by Ye Changsheng's sword had been automatically closed, and if you didn't look closely, you wouldn't be able to see the crack at all!

Although many people had expected this outcome, they were still shocked to see such a stark contrast in front of them.

This is not a slight victory, but an overwhelming crush!

A hint of pain flashed in Master Solemn's eyes, and he immediately closed his eyes.

As a result, he had expected it a long time ago, but he didn't expect such a big gap.

Every second that passed was torture for him, and he only wished it was over soon.

And then, no more.

In silence, Mu Qingke said expressionlessly: "The second test, chop!"

Although the two bronze swords did not have a blade, they already had a certain blade when the sword was cast, which was enough as a test.

Su Yuanfang still took the solemnly cast clothes cutting sword first, came to a horizontal wooden frame, and raised the long sword in his hand.

The wooden shelves were stacked with thick pieces of paper, but only a palm's width, to test the sharpness of the middle of the blade.

In fact, this test also involves the mechanical design of the sword body, as well as the bonding degree of synthetic casting.

Under the attention of everyone, Su Yuanfang sent out some strength in his hand, and the long sword raised in mid-air slashed down quickly.

Bang!

In the middle of the bronze sword, a palm-wide piece of paper was torn and continued to extend downward, and finally it was stuck in the middle of the pile of paper.

Seeing that the sword did not cut to the end, everyone couldn't help but sigh regretfully.

Su Yuanfang didn't care, picked up Ye Changsheng's clothes sword again, and slashed towards the pile of papers next to him.

Bang!

The sword also fell to the ground without slashing, and was stuck between the thick piles of paper.

However, everyone can clearly see that the traces of Ye Changsheng's chopping are closest to the bottom.

took off the sword again, and opened the two piles of paper that were chopped, and it was still the pile of paper that Ye Changsheng's sword chopped and chopped, and the incision was smooth and smooth, as if it was a guillotine.

In the test of sharpness, Ye Changsheng won again!

There was one last test left, and everyone's mood was tense, even solemn and a little nervous.

He knew that he was going to lose, but could he save a little face in the last test, even a little, so that he could give a little comfort to the people who supported him.

This comfort is humbling, and solemnity does not need him, but others do.

His disciples already had tears in their eyes, and some even choked up and couldn't cry, but their tearful eyes still flashed with the light of hope.

This last bit of comfort has nothing to do with the overall situation, only about the dignity of a swordsmith!

In countless pairs of expectant eyes, Su Yuanfang raised the sword in his hand again.

Bang!

Sparks flew in all directions, and the bronze sword slashed hard at a thigh-thick wrought iron rod, the blade embedded deep in the wrought iron.

Until Su Yuanfang let go of the hilt of the sword, the sword was still stuck on the wrought iron rod, trembling violently, like a green snake stuck in its body.

After the sword was completely still, Su Yuanfang took Ye Changsheng's clothes cutting sword, came to another wrought iron rod, and slashed it hard.

Bang!

The blade of the bronze sword, sinking deep into the wrought iron rod, burst out a series of sparks.

When!

The sword is broken!

The sword is broken, the sword is broken!

Solemnly opening his eyes, his disciples burst into tears and cheered loudly.

Seeing this scene, Ye Changsheng couldn't help but smile bitterly and shook his head.

The final test is the toughness of the bronze sword, so it has to collide with the metal.

A good sword, because it is a secondary casting, is made of bronze alloy with low hardness on the spine, so it can quickly absorb damage and give the sword body enough cushion.

The blade is made of bronze with high hardness, so the sharpness of the chopping is guaranteed.

These two are combined, so a good bronze sword will not break easily, and if it is broken, it means that there is a problem when it is synthesized and cast.

This time, it was solemnly won.

However, on the whole, it was Ye Changsheng who won.

Mu Qingke and the other bigwigs of the Sword Forgers Guild completely lost their previous vigor, and their faces were gloomy and depressed.

Lost, lost clearly, lost without controversy.

If you lose solemnly, you will bid farewell to the sword-casting room and never touch the sword.

The guild lost, and the momentum they had easily built up fell to the bottom in an instant.

In silence, he solemnly walked up to Ye Changsheng, looked at the white-haired young man in front of him complicatedly, and lowered his head and said, "Ye Changsheng, I lost!"

This time, no one came out to question or object.

The disciples of the solemn master burst into tears, and many of them knelt on the ground, knelt to solemnly, grabbed the ground with their heads, and began to cry.

The atmosphere was so oppressive that Liu Bufan and the others also restrained the joy on their faces, and a little sadness was born in their hearts.

A long-established swordsmith, a master who has dedicated his life to the art of swordsmithing, just said goodbye to his stage in such a gloomy way, such a tragic ending is definitely not what they want to see.

The corners of Mu Qingke's eyes flashed with tears, and he looked at Ye Changsheng with a look of pain.

There was a hint of supplication in his always haughty eyes.

Everyone is looking at Ye Changsheng, only the winner is qualified to decide the fate of the loser.

In front of everyone's eyes, Ye Changsheng sighed lightly, and said, "Master Zhuang, in fact, he won't win this time, and he has played some small tricks. ”

Victory is not martial, small means?!

Everyone was in an uproar, and solemn eyes widened even more, looking at Ye Changsheng in shock and puzzlement.

A swordsmith kneeling on the ground raised his teary eyes and said loudly: "I know, I know, Ye Changsheng, if you don't play tricks, you won't be able to win against my master at all, I saw with my own eyes just now, you secretly transmitted the message to His Royal Highness the Second Prince!"