Chapter 401: Cutting Down on Artifact Refinement Costs |
Zhang Yu stared at the Feathered Tome, where “Azure Sand Lv. 1 (0/10)” was displayed, and couldn’t help but sigh at the long road ahead for artifact refinement.
But the chill of ritual energy rising in his chest the next second cut off that sentiment, urging him to press forward.
He immediately refocused and began his second attempt at refining Azure Sand.
“I bought the rights, rented the lab and equipment—it all cost nearly 1 spirit coin. Refining just once? Not even close to enough.”
He glanced at the clock. The first refinement had taken just over twenty minutes, and he’d rented the lab and gear for a full six hours.
“Keep going!”
Zhang Yu summoned his Martial Qi, sweeping up the materials nearby.
This time, his movements were noticeably more practiced. Martial Qi surged out in smooth waves as he manipulated the materials and tools simultaneously.
He felt like the process of refining Azure Sand wasn’t so different from cultivating a technique.
Just as refining a technique improved its output the more familiar he became with it, the higher his proficiency in refining Azure Sand, the better the quality of the resulting product.
Off to the side, Ye Xingli noticed Zhang Yu beginning his second batch of Azure Sand. At first she didn’t pay much attention, but then her brow furrowed slightly.
“Are you using less ore than before?”
Zhang Yu smiled and explained, “Trying to save on materials—this way I can get more practice runs in.”
Ye Xingli cautioned, “Changing the amount of ore changes everything. The Martial Qi, the mana input, even the timing of the Fire Furnace—they all have to be adjusted.”
“If you’re just starting out, stick with the standard proportions. Wait until you’ve leveled up before experimenting.”
But Zhang Yu had no intention of following her advice.
Seeing that, Ye Xingli just shook her head and let it go, thinking to herself, This guy… average talent for refinement, but stubborn as hell.
She wasn’t too surprised. Newbies were often like this.
Especially ones who had already achieved something in other fields—they tended to brim with overconfidence and usually had to eat a few losses in artifact refinement before learning to keep their feet on the ground.
She watched as Zhang Yu continued refining his mini batch of Azure Sand. In the end, only about half the materials were successfully refined; the rest were wasted.
Ye Xingli shook her head, thinking, That should’ve taught him a lesson.
But Zhang Yu was secretly pleased as he glanced at the Feathered Tome: “Azure Sand Lv. 1 (1/10).”
So it still counts, even when I reduce the quantity.
He decided to keep cutting down the proportions to see just how far he could go and still have the Tome register it.
“That way, I can really cut down the cost of leveling up in refinement.”
With that thought, he looked over at Ye Xingli and asked, “Senior, since I’m just refining Azure Sand and don’t need most of the equipment here, do you want to use some of it?”
Ye Xingli was tempted.
It wasn’t that she was trying to save on the lab rental fee—she had more than enough spirit coins for that.
But if she was going to be standing around watching him, she might as well make use of the time.
A few extra spirit coins didn’t matter to her—but extra hours for study and cultivation? That was invaluable.
She nodded. “I’ve been adjusting my Law Husk lately. I could definitely use some of this gear.”
“And don’t worry—I won’t freeload. We can split the lab cost fifty-fifty.”
“If you have any refinement questions, feel free to ask.”
Zhang Yu watched her detach her right arm and manipulate the Law Husk using Martial Qi, then place it into a device that fed back data while she infused it with specialized mana.
The stuff I’m refining is still way too simple. Working alone in a lab is overkill.
If I can start splitting lab rentals with someone else, that’s another way to save spirit coins.
Ever since his first successful Azure Sand refinement, Zhang Yu had been fixated on one thing—how to push his artifact refinement path forward while burning as little money as possible.
If I could sell the Azure Sand too, maybe I could even turn a profit?
But he quickly dismissed the idea. No way. I probably can’t make a profit—best case, I just break even.
He knew that something like Azure Sand, being the most basic of materials, was already mass-produced by countless companies and factories.
Not only were their costs lower, their average quality was better too.
If he wanted to sell Azure Sand, it would probably have to be at a loss—just to recover some materials.
And large-scale production? That’s way out of reach for me right now.
He knew that whether it was Law Husks or artifacts, producing them by hand one-by-one was nothing like running a production line.
“To set up a mass production line, you either buy one outright—which costs a fortune—or build one yourself, which costs a lot less but demands way more technical skill.”
Obviously, he didn’t have the funds or the skills yet.
Better to focus on building a solid foundation and improving my actual refinement skills.
Zhang Yu continued experimenting, tweaking the material proportions and refining Azure Sand again and again.
Eventually, he found that as long as he used at least one-tenth of the standard amount, the Feathered Tome would still count it as one completion.
He grinned. Perfect. That means I can cut my material costs down to ten percent.
After testing the material quantities, he moved on to optimizing other variables—his movements, timing, and overall process—to shave down the time needed per refinement.
He understood well that using the Feathered Tome’s specialization mechanic was different from other kinds of cultivation.
Just like with his old techniques—completing a full cycle added one practice count, gradually leveling it up.
The exact process could be somewhat sloppy, as long as it stayed within acceptable bounds.
That was how he had always accelerated his technique training.
Of course, the Tome’s specialization system had its limits.
Every time he switched a technique over to the Tome, it started at Lv. 1, and had to be leveled up from scratch by grinding repetitions.
So even if he had practiced tons of similar martial techniques—body refinement, protective methods, etc.—learning a new one still meant starting from zero and leveling it through sheer repetition.
Artifact refinement, he realized, was no different.
“It all comes down to repetition.”
“But the quality and timing of each session—those can be compressed.”
“My cultivation logic is totally different from how other people refine artifacts.”
While Zhang Yu was repeatedly optimizing his process, Ye Xingli occasionally looked over—and her expression grew increasingly speechless.
“What is he doing? This looks like total chaos.”
“He’s cutting down on materials, and now he’s messing with the steps and timing too?”
Ye Xingli knew that Immortal Dao cultivation had long since been standardized and digitized by the Ten Major Sects. Every aspect of Immortal Dao technology was now backed by systematic design.
Artifact refinement was no exception.
Gone were the days of scattered sects making things by hand. Even artifact grading, once vague, was now thoroughly systematized.
If a cultivator wanted to improve their refinement skills and make higher-level artifacts, they had to study hard and practice at a high standard.
“Zhang Yu, you can’t just mess around like this.”
She reminded him, “There are proper, systemized methods to save on training costs. No need to wing it like this.”
“For example, you can sell your refined Azure Sand to recover some costs.”
“Lots of teachers and students in the Artifact Refinement Department need Azure Sand for crafting. It’s a common base material.”
“You could also use the simulation lab in the Spiritual Realm. It’s way cheaper than working with physical materials.”
Zhang Yu already knew about these cost-cutting methods.
But based on the results he was getting, he believed he could drive costs even lower than the simulation lab—while still getting some usable Azure Sand.
Ye Xingli didn’t know what was going through his head, so she continued offering other ideas.
“It’s not just simple stuff like Azure Sand that you can train on cheaply.”
“Even more advanced artifacts can be practiced on by using low-cost substitute materials to make a lower-grade version.”
“And once you’ve completed the first refinement of a high-grade artifact, you can keep upgrading, modifying, and repairing it over time to level up your skills—that costs much less too.”
“Like my master’s Nine-Heavens Solar Yang Pagoda—it was gradually refined, polished, and enhanced over time, going from Lv. 31 all the way up to Lv. 40.”
“In the process, my master’s artifact refinement skill also shot up—the manufacturing tech for the Nine-Heavens Solar Yang Pagoda hit level 40.”
Zhang Yu understood. That meant, with all materials and production conditions in place, True Lord Magneto could now directly produce a level-40 Nine-Heavens Solar Yang Pagoda.
Just hearing the name sounds expensive—and probably a pain to make. he thought. Unless someone’s paying a ridiculous price, there’s no way True Lord Magneto is cranking out a second one.
Ye Xingli still hadn’t mentioned one of the best ways to save money: joining school-sanctioned artifact refinement projects.
Those came with project budgets that covered materials, lab time, and equipment—helping push your refinement path forward at no personal cost.
After all, artifact refinement burned through cash like a furnace. Even Ye Xingli, who was well-off, always felt strapped for funds. Her budget was perpetually overdrawn.
That’s why nearly every straight-A student in the Artifact Refinement Department took part in multiple project teams.
In her eyes, budget negotiation was a core skill for any serious refiner.
But since Zhang Yu was just a newbie from the Civil Engineering Department, still barely getting started, she decided not to bring it up.
Just as she was lecturing him, Zhang Yu completed another round of Azure Sand refinement.
Azure Sand Lv. 2 (0/20)