“Eric! Jeezus, bro! That fucker sent you flying I don’t know how many yards! I’m surprised you’re even alive!” Sam said, looking up from the massive corps blocking the front entrance, his face absolutely lighting up when Eric casually saluted upon catching Sam’s gaze.

Eric winced and forced a chuckle, gazing once more at the mastodon-sized behemoth tusker he really had been incredibly lucky to put down, one tusk sheered off by his Deathblaze II, every other injury one that Eric had inflicted with his sword. And had Eric’s Piercing Strike not penetrated the beast’s massive eye and flash-fried it’s brain… he would have been luck to come back at all.

And the solemn look his young friend gave him after Eric plopped it into his ES space made it clear that Samuel was just as aware of this truth as Eric, but all he did besides flash a sad smile at Eric’s wince was say: “Thank god no tuskers have been snuffling around here, since you went flying. So come on, let’s restore our entrance blood ward. I know we agreed to minimize necromancy for now, but our safety has to come first.”

Eric nodded. “You’re right, it does.” He then plucked the chalk free of Samuel’s hands. “I’ll draw, you tell me if I got it right, and I’ll infuse.”

Sam huffed once, but his relieved smile made it clear that he was grateful that Eric was willing to shoulder the burden of a tiny bit of extra plaque, as his foundation was now far stronger than Sam’s own, and Eric was amused to see his friend curse good-naturedly once he directed a surge of delicious potency into forging a warding circuit around their cavern entrance and their tiny yard beyond.

“Goddamn your good at that, Eric! Not one mistake for me to correct, and so much juice that...”

“It should ward off a few overly curious boars?”

“Homicidal vindictive shits, you mean,” Samuel qualified. “But yeah. Honestly, I don’t think Grim has any students who can infuse their potency into a ward like that.”

Eric nodded. “Makes sense, especially if they’re not yet classers.”

Sam’s expression grew thoughtful. “True. But still, Eric, what you did was impressive as hell.”

Eric nodded. “As long as it keeps us safe.”

His friend’s gaze grew solemn. “Eric? Do you think maybe we could, um...”

“Train? Because I’ve basically been neglecting you these two weeks as I try to find the balance between tier-advancing my weapon skills and taking a break between cultivation sessions?”

Sam winced. “Honestly, yeah… the last couple weeks, I know I’ve made some progress, thanks to all the earlier help you gave me, but still...”

Eric nodded. “I get it. And if it helps… I’m going to worry less about saturating my level 9 Potency and get better at alternating super intensity with my other training. Even if the skills advanced a little slower, the important thing is I’ll be spending most of my focus on time on what matters. Pushing my cultivation just as much as I can while we’re both within this fortuitous encounter, for as long as I can.”

Eric then proved to be as good as his word, spending several hours using his potency and slowly, carefully, applying Fire Qi to blaze through fresh plaque without going all out… dedicating more than a few hours of his time doing his best to guide his friend how to safely follow in his footsteps, smiling unabashedly when Samuel whooped for joy, and Eric could sense that he’d had a significant revelation, almost a breakthrough.

Eric gave a quiet nod of satisfaction, gazing at his friend over pork chops and off-world mead as they chowed down on their carved stone dining table.

Eric stifling a yawn as he took a fresh look at their specious abode filled with summoning circles, pigskin rugs, surprisingly comfortable beds, and the stove with its multiple hot plates that was now Eric’s pride and joy.

He then nodded thoughtfully at his friend, noticing changes in stance, posture, and the width of his shoulders, that were subtle, but definitely there. Most especially the confident look in his eyes. Whether or not he had ranked up, Sam had definitely blossomed, and would no doubt be making rapid progress very soon.

Nonetheless, his friend only smiled when Eric made it clear the next morning that he was eager for the hunt once more.

“I get it, kung fu brother. The way you’re body’s rippling with potency, you’re certainly doing something right. And the way you pushed me yesterday? I wouldn’t mind an extra half-day’s sleep myself!” Sam chuckled. “Best of all, you never stint on the porkchops. Happy hunting, Eric.”

Eric dipped his head. “Happy training, buddy. You’re going to be a right fierce monster with that crossbow before too much longer, I can tell that already.”

With a final wave and a careful eye at his surroundings, he then left their shelter and made a beeline for the woods once more, smiling at the warm shafts of sunlight caressing his skin that occasionally slipped through the rustling canopy above.

Eric took a deep breath and stretched, inhaling the rich scents of sun-ripened earth, jasmine, wildflowers, and a thousand peach blossoms that were perfuming the air. A serene smile graced his features as he once more began racing through the forest, eager to continue his hunt.

Because an elite fast-draw skill that he would absolutely love to see breakthrough to Journeyman status would be a wonderful boon before he went back to hardcore meridian cleansing in a couple days, now feeling better than ever about his chosen path. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t actually broken through to Rank 6 as a Basic Fire Cultivator today. What mattered was the progress he felt, deliberately not pushing to the point of strain, and that he had been there to guide his friend through his own cultivation journey. He’d follow the same path of shorter bursts with mastering System-granted skills. He’d push as hard and as diligently as he could in a pair of days, even if part of day 1was just refilling his Level 9 Contender Status to maximum before accelerated skill growth could really blossom. He needed that earned potency anyway to fuel his next cultivation session, regardless of skill advancement.

And if he were bold enough to use his fists to put down at least a few of the smaller boars… he laughed at the thought, somehow having no doubt that the System would award him the full bonuses at Journeyman and Adept status.

Especially if he dared trying to take out a massive tusker with his fists.

Idle speculations were soon put to the test, when his loping stride found him in a clearing with a massive beast rooting through the underbrush, just feet away.

Eric clenched his fists and flashed a fierce smile, charging forward and drawing his blade before the tusker could do more than squeal, his flashing blade spraying the clearing with a patina of crimson on first one flank, then the other, 49 Quickness and countless hours facing beasts very much like this one made pivoting around his furious stomping foe an almost choreographed affair.

Eric slipping past goring tusks and powerful hooves that could have spelled his end so easily, to rip open the tusker’s right flank as viciously as he had the left, the clock already ticking down before death’s icy claws could take their due.

But before that happened… a laughing Eric embraced his own peril, changing sword for fists and daring to face his foe head on.

You have successfully struck Spirit Boar with Right Cross!

You have slipped past Deadly Gore.

Uppercut shatters spirit boar jaw!

Your right fist suffers Hairline Fracture!

You have retreated from Spirit Boar.

Spirit Boar is charging!

Eric hissed and darted back after he managed to hurt his fist just as much as he had the massive creature’s jaw, realizing he’d better keep his armored gloves on, or stick to softer body parts. He wasn’t so stupid as to think he could actually kill the boar with his bare knuckles, but damn if darting past those fearsome tusks, and lethal hooves before hammering the absurdly muscled throat wasn’t honing his skills to a degree that would make taking out a far more human opponent, or orc, child’s play in comparison.

As it was, his overconfidence, and his inexperience nearly cost him everything when the enraged boar managed to catch him under the ribs with a goring tusk that sent him flying through the air, absurd degrees of Finesse all that allowed him to spring back from the branches, twisting just enough not to brush against the brilliant peaches his meridians screamed at even approaching, hesitating no longer to pull out his bardiche and take out the charging boar with a sweep to the legs, cleaving through the rightmost pair before leaping ontop the wild-eyed boar that had collapsed in a confused bloody heap before it’s eyes blinked a final time, it’s skull cleaved neatly in twain.

Only then did Eric collapse, unable to scream his agony as shattered ribs finished knitting and he could finally wheeze for breath once more, before spitting up blood and laughing, injuries, dizziness, and throbbing meridians making it clear he had pushed himself way too far that day.

“That’s the second time I let one of these fuckers catch me in the ribs. The second time it almost killed me.” He shook his head, cheeks flushing as the euphoria of battlelust became the rue of a cocky Contender realizing that even he could play the fool, and how he had managed to dodge making contact with the spirit fruit the last time he had been sent sailing he truly had no idea.

Clearly he had been lucky as sin… and he could only pray that his luck wouldn’t run out.

He headed back carefully as the afternoon waned, going out of his way to avoid any further fights before collapsing to an exhausted slumber, allowing his throbbing meridians to recover from a too close a brush to spirit fruit that demanded days of gentle cultivation he could scarce afford, but wasn’t so foolish as to deny, spending the following three days in careful hunts and gentle meditation, more than happy to make time for Sam, who was well on his way to ranking up at last.