"You guys really made these?" gawked Esteban as he looked down at the gladius-like sword that Nolan had just handed him.

"You should be thanking Nolan," smiled Nyla, who then nodded toward the girls. "I made theirs, just to make sure they didn't look as bland as—just to make sure they looked nice."

Balancing a black great sword in his hands as if he were gifting it to somebody of great importance, Ian let out a satisfied laugh. "Good job, my friend!" The edges of the blade were serrated in a way that made it seem as if dozens of dark, finger-long fangs were protruding outwards and upwards, the last of the slight extensions ending about five centimetres from the tip.

Sean's was an exact replica of Ian's, different only in that the hilt was rounded, rather than rectangular. "What did you make the handles out of? The material looks familiar."

"Ah, that's some of the armour from that giant sloth I killed right before I met you and el chico over there." He'd fixed large rubies into the pommels of all of the guys' weapons, a bit self-conscious after having seen the intricate floral patterns that Nyla had engraved along the blades she'd made for the girls. Even Lyra, the least feminine of the bunch, stared quietly at her beautiful great sword, sizing it up against her brother's with poorly-hidden satisfaction.

"These are sick!" Esteban gave his weapon a few practice swings, and so sharp were the edges that it gave off the smartest, most concise sounds as it cut cleanly through the air. "How long did it take you to make them?"

"As long as I was gone."

A bit embarrassed, Esteban ran off and began to fell trees for fun in the area where Nolan had knocked down several dozen back when his punching strength had finally reached a level where the surrounding trunks had no chance of withstanding his full strength.

"The essence fusion effects are all the same," explained Jun, though nobody seemed to pay him any attention as they handled their new weapons with open eagerness. "A powered swing will create a blade of compressed air that can cover a distance of a thousand paces before dissipation. This ‘blade’ is all but invisible to the eye."

A thousand paces? Nolan stared down at his longsword in awe, for this was the first time that he'd heard of its essence fusion effects. That's like a whole kilometre! And the effect is invisible? Can’t I snipe people with lower cultivations, then? At the thought, Nolan wondered if he would be able to create any other types of weapons with the method that his teachers had shown him. Maybe he could make a handgun, or a rifle, or a special type of crossbow… Would those even be useful in Venara? Staring down at the black blade of his weapon, of the bone-white lines that streaked its breadth and the matte black hilts and leather-bound handles, he realized that a weapon’s effectiveness depended entirely on the materials that they were made out of. A simple and obvious observation, it still kindled a curious fire within him, and he decided to set some time aside to experiment with replicating different weapons from his home world. He still had half of the halmite left, and he could always convert some of his combat needles into raw materials for another project.

While Nolan was lost in his thoughts, a single tear began to pool at the corner of one of Sean's eyes. "This is just like my favourite weapon in my favourite game." The athletic man scratched at his clean-shaven face in embarrassment before giving a happy shrug. "The kid's right, this is awesome." He went off to join Esteban in cutting down trees, leaving the northeastern fringes of the glade in danger of widespread deforestation.

Everyone else went off to get some practice in with their new weapons, all save for Nolan and Nyla.

"Thanks for not telling them that you guys made the arrayment diagram," said Nolan, giving a thankful flash of teeth to his teachers. "Helps me maintain my masterly image." While he and Nyla had succeeded in learning the arrayment in question, they could only make weapons with relatively weak durability. They'd actually had to rely on a basic meditation circle arrayment to gather enough energy to create each weapon, with most of the 'heavy lifting' done by their teachers. Only with the aid of the two spirits were they able to create weapons that could withstand combat between Genesis-staged cultivators, items that would be considered priceless treasures back on the continent.

"You don't know how much I desired to take credit," said Uncle Grey with a shameless sigh.

Jun scratched at his cheek, embarrassed on behalf of the other spirit. "Off you go now. If you truly plan on leaving within three months’ time, then you'd best take advantage of every minute."

Stowing away their weapons, both he and Nyla listened to the advice and headed back into the courtyard with determined steps. Watching Nyla's backside as she led the way, her long, black hair trailing down her back with sable shimmers, Nolan wished more than anything that they could spend some time alone.

That's the one downside to this place, he sighed, stepping into the Divine Spirit Fountain to begin cultivating his secondary cultivation method. Let alone hooking up with Nyla, I can't even wax my cane while I’m here.

He pushed such thoughts from his mind as he settled down, pouring all of his effort into entering a silent and focused state. Like this, the final stretch of their stay in the glade began to play out. The dwindling amount of time that they had left provided all of the motivation that he needed to get down to business within moments of dismissing his lust.

***

"I can't believe it's already been a year," said Lyra, taking a long pull from the golden chalice of ale that her brother had just handed her. "I think this is the longest I've gone without killing somebody since I left the village?"

"Is that something to be proud of though?" mumbled Sean, who was equally into his cups.

"It means we've found a good place to stay." She raised her cup. "To this odd little world. May we spend many more years here in the future."

Everybody joined in on the toast, nobody giving Esteban a hard time now that he was old enough to drink by Venara's standards.

"Must you go so soon?" said Jun, a little downcast where he sat in the air above them, eyeing the food with a wistful gaze. "Perhaps you could stay for just a few more years?"

Nolan shook his head, or at least he thought he did. It was hard to tell, since he was absolutely smashed. "No can do, Big J. We've got a life-and-death crisis to deal with."

"Exactly. Shouldn’t you stick around for as long as possible?"

"Smoother seas never—skilled a madeful sailor," said Sean through a long belch, aware that, for some reason or other, the secret of the ring within Nolan's chest had to remain hidden from their most recent companion. That the man was aware of anything, laid out on the ground with his eyes shut and the contents of his cup spilled over his chest, was quite impressive.

"Damn, this ale is good," said Ian. "Remind me to thank that beauty again once we get out of here."

"Oh?" said Lyra, who was leaning back-to-back with her brother at the centre of the blanket that they were all picnicking on. "What happened to 'dumpling?' You just going to call her beauty now?"

"I'll call her whatever she w—wants," he hiccupped. "If she wants to be dumpling, then t—that's my new favourite food."

They had just harvested all of the spirit stones that they'd left within the Divine Spirit Fountain, a little over 65,000 superior spirit stones between the bunch. At thirty-five times the value of ordinary ones, they finally had enough capital to fund a sizeable sect. Everybody took two thousand for themselves, leaving about fifty-one thousand in Nolan’s care. Even if Ian was a bit stronger, physically, than him, as the sect master it was his duty to safeguard the treasury.

“Nolan,” said Uncle Grey, who suddenly lowered himself so that he could whisper in his student’s ear. “If you lot are leaving today, then make sure to create new uniforms for everybody before you go.”

“Shit, I completely forgot about that.” He poured the contents of his half-full cup into Ian’s, the flush-faced boy raising it to cheers with his sister as if it were a planned action. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, guys. Make sure you’re ready to leave by then.”

Hearing everyone’s inebriated assurances, Nolan leapt toward the courtyard with the intent of landing directly in the Divine Spirit Fountain, but he overshot by about twelve metres, tripped over his own feet and rolled into the short stone walls with a head-thumping crash. As he stood up and began to pat his clothes down, he could hear his friends dying of laughter in the distance.