Chapter 32: Hiv: You Really Are a Damn Genius, Kid!

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Hiv: You Really Are a Damn Genius, Kid!

"You’re back. What good stuff did they give you?"

Hiv looked curiously at the two who had just walked in, then exclaimed in surprise, "A Silver-Forged Fine Steel Breastplate!? How could he just give you this?"

Lorin touched the breastplate he was already wearing and asked doubtfully, "Is this thing really that famous?"

However, elven craftsmanship truly was on another level. It was incredibly comfortable to wear; he felt it wouldn’t even chafe if worn directly against his bare skin. He had already decided that on future adventures, he would wear this breastplate underneath his regular clothes.

If some blind fool assumed he was unarmored... heh heh, they would be in for a nasty surprise.

"Uh... Morning Star Workshop is quite famous. Rumor has it they were once personally reprimanded by the Elf King. But this breastplate is made of Fine Steel, so its quality is undeniably excellent. Plus, shipping it all the way from the Eternal Forest must have cost a fortune in transport fees," Hiv explained, gesturing wildly.

The Eternal Forest was located in the heartland of the continent. As the home of the Elf Kingdom, it covered an immensely vast area. Its borders neighbored the Ferma Kingdom’s Southwestern Borders, which was why sharp-eared elves were a common sight in the kingdom’s Western Territory.

It was precisely because of the Eternal Forest’s existence that the major human kingdoms on the continent, despite constant friction and shifting borders over the years, never managed to form a monolithic empire.

"What about you?" Hiv turned his gaze to Pip.

Pip scratched his messy, brownish-red hair and drew the long-handled warhammer from his back.

[Shock]

Type: Long-Handled Warhammer

Quality: Fine

Weight: 12.5kg

Length: 52 inches

Durability: 158/160

Equipment Effects:

[Heavy Strike]: Attack speed -10%, but attacks have a chance to stun the enemy.

[Armor Piercing]: Deals extra damage to armored targets and shields.

Note:

"This hammer has shattered seven suits of armor, three shields, one troll’s head, and my master’s patience."

— An anonymous dwarf artisan

...

"What the hell, this is your weapon!?" Hiv practically vaulted over the bar, staring at the hammer with wide eyes.

"I saw you constantly carrying a long pole on your back and thought it was some halfling tradition. It turns out to be a warhammer??

"Don’t you halflings prefer using daggers and short bows? Or at worst, handaxes and light hammers? What the hell is a long-handled warhammer doing here!?"

"So nowadays, scouts have started using weapons like this," he muttered.

"Uh... Pip isn’t a scout. Pip wants to become a barbarian," the little guy declared proudly.

"A halfling... a long-handled warhammer... a barbarian..." Hiv leaned against the bar, questioning his entire life. "At this point, if you told me there’s a mage who likes to wear heavy armor and cleave people with a great sword, I wouldn’t even be surprised."

"There isn’t a mage... but would a sorcerer count?" Lorin thought to himself. His mouth twitched before he steered the conversation back to business. "So, we’ve completed the quest. About the combat skills...?"

Hiv nodded, carefully examining the two of them before speaking slowly. "Combat skills require extensive, long-term practice, so there’s no point in biting off more than you can chew. I will pick one suitable skill for each of you."

The little guy hadn’t expected to be included. "Pip can learn one too?" he asked in surprise.

Hiv smiled and explained, "Some combat skills aren’t restricted by class; they are simple and practical.

"Take ’Fierce Strike’ for instance. Even though it’s not a barbarian’s combat skill, it suits your long-handled warhammer perfectly."

The little halfling hesitated. "But Pip is currently learning ’Frenzy.’ Will they interfere with each other’s progress?"

"If my guess is right, ’Frenzy’ can probably only be trained during actual combat?" Hiv rubbed his thick beard thoughtfully.

"How did you know?!"

"Heh, then there’s no problem. Practice ’Powerful Strike’ during your normal downtime and turn it into instinct. In battle, focus all your attention on your ’Frenzy’ state." Hiv shook his head, not bothering to explain how he had figured it out.

"Because you normally don’t look like you have anything to do with the word ’Frenzy’..." Lorin grumbled inwardly.

"And as for you, Lorin, my boy," Hiv mused for a moment. "Since you use a sword, I have a sword skill that’s absolutely perfect for you."

"What sword skill?"

"Follow me."

Hiv returned Rusted Throat to him, drew a longsword from behind the bar, and led them to the open clearing in front of the tavern. He held the sword horizontally in front of him, planted his feet shoulder-width apart, and lowered his center of gravity.

"Watch closely!" he shouted deeply.

Hiv stepped forward with his right foot, pivoting his entire body. Power surged from the tips of his toes all the way to his fingers, driving the longsword in a horizontal sweep from left to right.

HUM—

The blade sliced through the air, letting out a low, resonant hum like muffled thunder.

This was only the beginning.

Twisting his palm, he used deft technique and the blade’s own inertia to twirl the longsword in a circle above his head, before slashing diagonally downward from the top right!

This strike was faster and heavier than the last. The blade practically blurred into a streak of silver light in midair, and the hum evolved into a fierce howl.

Finally came the third strike.

"HAH!"

Using his left foot as a pivot, he used his waist to spin his body around. He whipped the falling longsword upward, carving a sharp, diagonal arc through the air.

"This sword skill is called ’Continuous Slash.’ Did you see that clearly, kid?" Hiv took a breath and asked with a smile.

"Most of it." Lorin nodded hesitantly.

A horizontal sweep, a downward slash, and an upward strike. These three motions weren’t difficult; anyone could pick up a sword and swing it like that. However, linking all three strikes together in just over a second required far more than sheer brute strength. After all, you weren’t just fighting the weight of the sword itself, but also your own power and inertia.

"Oh? Don’t be stubborn, kid. It might just look like spinning around and hacking at people, but I spent over ten years perfecting this." Hiv looked at Lorin doubtfully. He didn’t believe the boy could grasp the trick to it this quickly.

"I’ll give it a try."

Lorin took a deep breath. Wrapping both hands tightly around the hilt, he felt its lingering warmth.

SHING!—

Rusted Throat left its sheath. Recalling Hiv’s movements, he stepped forward with his right foot and lowered his center of gravity—horizontal sweep!

His arms guided the longsword over his shoulder, shifting its position, and then—downward slash!

His brain issued rapid commands to his body, and his core muscles responded almost instantly. Using his momentum to spin his body, he unleashed the final move—upward strike!

PANT... PANT...

Lorin gasped for air. His unhealed internal injuries flared up, sending ripples of pain throughout his entire body.

Although he had managed to complete the sequence, it had taken him a full three seconds. In real combat, that was more than enough time for him to die several times over.

"Besides, it wasn’t smooth enough. An opponent could break that sequence at any moment..." he thought.

"Sorry, it seems it really is quite difficult." He looked toward Hiv.

Hiv wore a very strange expression. His gaze roamed over Lorin for a long time before he finally spoke.

"My master once told me that some people are just born to wield a sword. I didn’t believe him back then. I thought sweat and hard work were the only true paths to becoming a warrior, and that ’talent’ was just an excuse lazy fools used to delude themselves.

"But now, I believe it."