My weapon body was melted into a pretty horrible condition. Most weapon spirits would consider that a tragic thing to occur. However, most weapon spirits don’t have formations built into them that’ll trap them the instant they step out. I have one of those formations, courtesy of Ilya. Thankfully, the formation she left behind was melted by that immortal’s attack. While Lucia was busy cooking and learning how to control her new cooking pot, I slipped out of my weapon body without anyone noticing. It’s been a long time since I’ve stretched my arms and legs.

An unfortunate side effect of Lucia’s interspacial rings melting was I lost my few treasures as well. I’m not sure why my weapon body survived while my own sky-realm-ranked sword, which was practically made of the same material, was destroyed. Also, I lost all my clothes, so I had to knock out a disciple and borrow his robes and identity plate. It wasn’t very difficult. After spending all my time cultivating instead of distracting myself with meaningless pursuits such as cooking and childcare, I’ve achieved the pinnacle of the mortal realm. With one more step, I’ll ascend to an immortal. I’m certain that last step is upgrading my weapon body to an immortal-ranked weapon. It makes little sense to me; I have to upgrade my weapon body with immortal treasures to become an immortal. In that case, where did the first immortal come from? Perhaps it’s a limit of being a weapon spirit.

Regardless, there’s a path to immortality in front of me. All I have to do is find myself a blacksmith capable of crafting an immortal-ranked weapon. Since Lucia gave away her spoils to Ilya, what am I going to use as ingredients? Well, there’s this immortal-ranked bow that I took from Lucia’s interspacial ring. She won’t even notice it’s gone; she is extremely obsessed with cooking. Nothing can possibly pull her away from the stove when she’s making something. I think it’s her motherly instincts telling her to provide for Sophia. I don’t like Sophia. Why don’t I? It’s simple. I just don’t. She’s clingy, annoying, never stops asking questions. She hasn’t even interacted with me, but from how she behaves around everyone else, there’s no way we’ll ever get along. It has nothing to do with the fact Lucia cares more about her than me. Why would it?

Enough about Sophia, I’ll focus on what’s important. I heard Ilya gathered up all the qualified blacksmiths, no doubt through threats and bribes. Even if they’re here unwillingly, they wouldn’t dare mess up an order on purpose. Besides, the blacksmiths who’ve reached the peak of the craft would throw themselves over each other to craft an immortal-ranked weapon. It’s the goal of life, to achieve greater and greater heights whether it be in cultivation, blacksmithing, or even cooking—though I hate to say it.

“You have to fix this!”

Hmm? That sounds awfully like Lucia’s voice, but why would she be here? When I left, it looked like she had over a thousand beasts to slaughter and process. That should’ve taken her at least two hours, but it hasn’t even been thirty minutes.

“There’s no way to fix this. The best we can do is melt it down and recycle its materials.”

“But you’re the master blacksmiths! If you can’t do it, then who can? No matter what, this sword can’t break!”

That’s definitely Lucia. If I approach from here, will she notice me? I suppose I’ll slip back into my weapon body and return her bow while I’m at it. She won’t notice an extra set of clothes and identity plate appearing in her interspacial ring out of nowhere. It’s a bit sad that she doesn’t. Well, it’s good for me, so I’m not complaining.

“This doesn’t even resemble a sword anymore. It’s a melted scrap of metal with a handle. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t disintegrated. What did you even do to it? Throw it into the sun? This is a sky-realm-ranked weapon; the temperature needed to damage it like this is simply incredible.”

“I don’t care about that kind of stuff! I just want you to fix my damn sword!”

The blacksmiths seem as frustrated as Lucia. They’re not a very respectful group; I’m not surprised. With their status, they should’ve been worshipped, but that probably changed once Ilya took control of their lives. “I don’t care if you’re the sect leader! If something can’t be fixed, then it can’t be fixed! You pigheaded woman, what don’t you understand about that!?”

“Hey! Don’t throw things at me! I’ll throw this at you!” Lucia got hit in the face with a small hammer. It didn’t even leave a mark, but she seemed pretty upset. Her fingers were digging into the countertop, and the ground was creaking.

“Boss, stop!” Mrs. Feathers luckily had enough sense to stop Lucia. “If you destroy this place, no one can fix your sword.”

“They say they can’t fix it now, so what good is this place anyway? It’ll be better once it’s gone, and new blacksmiths can take their place!”

“Hold on.” A blacksmith came out of a room behind the counter. He was shirtless with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. There was a yellow piece of straw pinched between his lips. His eyes narrowed at my weapon body which was hanging from Lucia’s waist. After a short moment, he spat the straw out and snorted. “I can fix your sword.”

“Mm?” Lucia put down the counter which had been separated from the floor. It didn’t exactly fill in the hole it left behind, resting with an obvious tilt. “You can fix Durandal?”

“That’s right,” the blacksmith said and crossed his arms over his chest. “The important part of that sword isn’t the materials it’s made out of, right? It’s the item spirit inside. As long as I can create another shell to transfer the spirit to, you’ll count that as fixing your sword, correct?”

“Uh….” Lucia’s forehead scrunched up. “I think so…? Yeah, mm. Yup! You do that for me, and I’ll pay you with, uh, pay. Mhm.”

This is a good chance. Perhaps I can convince this blacksmith to improve my weapon body. Even if he can’t make me an immortal-ranked weapon, as long as it’s stronger than my last body, I might still have a chance at breaking through.