Armor-Breaking Strike

As soon as the words left his mouth, Humbert's expression changed. He turned solemn.

The next instant!

Humbert drove his heavy boot into the ground. With a dull thud, tiny stones trembled underfoot, and a fierce recoil surged up through his planted left leg.

Rain felt every muscle in Humbert's body tense at once, like a great bow drawn to its limit. The force from his leg had already reached his raised right arm and the Warhammer it held.

Humbert's loose linen sleeve split apart as the muscles of his arm swelled beneath it.

"Hah!"

A low roar burst from Humbert's throat. He twisted his waist and drove the Warhammer forward with a whistling rush, aiming straight for the wrought-iron plate on the dummy.

The hammer's pointed end struck the plate with a piercing clang, followed by the sound of metal tearing.

The iron plate crumpled inward like a sheet of thin paper. The hammer punched through and ripped it open without slowing, then kept going until its tip burst from the back of the ironwood dummy in a spray of iron fragments.

The fragments rattled against the metal objects and wall behind the dummy like a blast of buckshot.

Rain stared, dumbfounded.

Even after Humbert let go, the dummy kept swaying. The plate on its chest had shattered and fallen to the ground, while the hammer remained lodged in the hole it had punched through the dummy.

"Damn... That hit like an armor-piercing round!"

It was the only thought in Rain's head.

"Want to learn?"

"Yes!" Rain nodded eagerly.

"You're not a Professional yet, but with your current physique, Armor-Breaking Strike shouldn't put too much strain on you—as long as you don't push for a high degree of execution," Humbert said with a smile.

"Degree of execution?" Rain immediately remembered Fabian, a Rogue apprentice, leaping high into the air that day. His dagger had traced a silver arc before plunging into the Boarfolk Warrior's neck.

That Backstab must have had an incredibly high degree of execution.

"Put simply, the better you execute a Combat Technique, the more powerful it is. But the better the execution, the greater the strain on your body."

"Entry-level Combat Techniques don't put much strain on a Professional, but for someone who isn't one, it depends on the person."

"Generally, it's hard for a non-Professional to execute a Combat Technique perfectly. But they can still perform it at a lower level of execution and boost their attack power."

"I see." Rain nodded.

Having lived through an information-saturated age in his previous life, he had no trouble understanding Humbert's explanation.

It was like two gymnasts performing the same routine in a competition. Even if the routine had the same difficulty rating, the judges would give them different scores based on how well each performed it.

The routine was the Combat Technique, while the score was its power.

"Instructor, what does it mean for a Combat Technique to be universal?"

"A universal Combat Technique is one that members of several professions can learn."

"Take Armor-Breaking Strike. A Professional in the Rogue line can perform it with a dagger."

"The difference is that Rogues rely more on the momentum of their high-speed movement, while we generate force from a standstill and make use of the Warhammer's momentum."

"At heart, though, it's the same thing. Both rely on a powerful impact."

"As you learn more, you'll find that some Combat Techniques used by close-combat professions share similar principles."

Humbert's explanation made everything click for Rain.

"Thank you, Instructor!"

Time flew when Rain threw himself into learning.

Soon, the agreed-upon two weeks had passed.

The day before, Instructor Humbert had taught Rain a second Combat Technique: Shield Bash.

It involved striking an enemy hard with a shield and demanded considerable explosive power.

Unfortunately, even Humbert could not answer Rain's third question: what profession would someone unlock if he mastered several Combat Techniques as well as spells?

For now, Rain could set that question aside.

Although he had learned two Combat Techniques, he was still a long way from meeting the requirements for a class-change prompt.

Even with Hammer Proficiency lv1 helping him, his execution of Armor-Breaking Strike had only just passed 80% over the past two weeks. He still had a long way to go before reaching the 95% needed to trigger a class-change prompt.

Of course, that was hardly slow progress. It showed real talent, as Humbert had told him more than once.

His Shield Bash, which he had learned only the day before yesterday, had just passed 60% execution—the bare minimum needed to use it.

So Rain's most important task now was to keep improving his execution of both techniques through experience in the field.

Even for him, that would not happen overnight.

As for the class-change question, since it involved spells, Rain thought he should ask a knowledgeable mage.

Perhaps a mage could give him a clearer answer.

Meanwhile.

Chris's broken bone had healed, and that evening, the Whistling Hunters finally gathered again.

This time, they met at Mill Town's liveliest tavern: Hearthfire Bar.

Leia and Chris arrived first. They ordered a platter of dried fruit and two glasses of lemonade, then chatted while they waited.

"Chris, is your arm really all right?" Leia asked, eyeing his previously injured left arm with some doubt.

She had a feeling Chris had simply grown restless and talked her into calling everyone together.

Fabian's and Grand's injuries had been much lighter than Chris's. Both had recovered days ago.

"It's fine, Captain. See?" Chris moved his left arm to show her it had healed.

"Hey, Chris! Looks like you've recovered. You'd better have a couple of extra drinks tonight." Fabian came through the tavern door, flipping his dagger in his usual fashion as he greeted them.

Grand followed behind Fabian.

"Captain!"

"Chris, glad you've recovered."

"Thanks!"

"Hm? Didn't Rain come with you?" Leia looked behind Grand but saw no sign of him.

"No." Grand shook his head.

"It isn't time yet. Don't worry, Captain. Rain isn't the sort to be late," Fabian said, glancing at the clock on the tavern wall.

A little while later.

Dinnertime drew near.

More people began pouring into Hearthfire Bar. The noise grew, and the atmosphere turned lively.

Then a burly man in Chainmail and a Bull-Horn Helmet appeared in the doorway. With his broad shoulders and back, he looked like a brown bear standing upright and blocked most of the entrance.

"Huh? Looks like a barbarian Adventurer has come in."

"You don't see many barbarians in Mill Town."

"True. They're pretty rare here."

"Something's odd, though. I thought barbarians hardly ever wore Chainmail," Fabian said, glancing over.

Most barbarians prized fearlessness and battle. They disliked the restriction of mail or plate armor, preferring a little leather armor and either two weapons or a heavy one.

"Wait, why is he coming this way? Captain, is he a friend of yours?" Chris asked.

"Me? I don't know any barbarians." Leia shook her head, just as puzzled.

"What about you two?" Chris turned to Fabian and Grand.

"No!" Fabian and Grand both shook their heads.

"That's strange. He can't be here to pick a fight with us, can he?" Chris said.

"Hey, Chris. Looks like you've recovered."

A familiar voice came from beneath the Bull-Horn Helmet.

"Holy shit, you... you're Rain?!" Chris sprang from his chair. The hulking figure before him looked nothing like the Rain he remembered.

"It's only been two weeks! How did you get so big? Did you take some kind of drug?"