A Strike with Nothing Behind It
Kirk was undeniably strong.
From childhood he had trained in the secret arts of Jerik, an adventurer of the fiftieth-floor class—probably somewhere around level fifty, on his fifth class. Back when I was still dropping goblins with Thrust, Kirk had already been holding the vanguard through goblin waves with a spear art of Jerik's that was more or less complete.
The spearwork of someone who had earned a Special Class would be advanced at the very least. Maybe even supreme-grade, or higher.
Even so.
"Hyung, give it everything you've got. I'll shut you down so fast it won't even feel real."
Flick a spear at me with that kind of arrogance, and of course my pride had to answer. More than that, I was sure I could land one real hit.
Piercing Strike. This'll do it.
Grade aside, it was an extreme technique that poured everything into a single blow. Even if Kirk had a rare-grade spear art, I was confident I could punch a hole straight through it. The problem was that I absolutely could not punch a hole through Kirk himself.
So.
"Master..."
"...?"
I gave Jerik a rough outline of Piercing Strike—what it did, and even its grade. When I mentioned the grade he tilted his head, then nodded.
"All right. I'll keep it in mind. Knock that attitude out of him properly."
If Jerik was willing to say that much, I could relax.
"Then watch yourself."
"Yes. Step in."
In that moment Kirk's expression turned serious. The basic posture for a spar had already become habit for him. Of course, that easy smile said his actual feelings were a little different.
I'll snap you awake.
Tok.
No point dragging it out. I charged as I was.
Shf.
Volante Footwork, built entirely around extreme lightness, generated the speed, and in the instant the spear was about to land I flipped my mana to the opposite extreme and maximized its weight. That weight passed straight into the spear, and through vibration it dramatically amplified the destructive force of Resonance Spear.
Try to link those steps on purpose, and a hairline gap opened in the heartbeat before the hit connected—a brief halt in the motion, a drop in speed, from the mana conversion. I had thought that was unavoidable. But when I landed the blow on Grash, that opening hadn't been there at all.
From the charge until the spear struck, there was no waste in the motion or in the flow of mana. If anything, the moment the weight shifted, it felt as if I accelerated. That sequence had taken shape in my unconscious and come out as a skill: Piercing Strike.
Every flow engraved into the skill linked together without a snag, and the instant the thrust arrived at Kirk—
Paaang!
My body accelerated once more, and all my strength settled into the spear tip. A chilling light gathered for an instant at the end of the wooden practice spear, and even my awareness was sucked into it.
At the same time—
KRA-KOOOOOM!
A boom I could not believe had come from wooden spears colliding dragged my consciousness back, and I was already sailing backward through empty air.
Ha...?
The moment I came to, the memory of the impact surfaced, faint. Kirk's spear, shattering completely against my tip. His face, struck blank with horror. And Jerik's palm, stopping my spear point.
His palm?
The thought was so absurd a snort of laughter escaped me, even as the shock of the collision flung me away.
Damn it.
I didn't have the strength to twitch a finger, let alone break my fall. I was thinking that if my luck was bad, I'd get myself seriously hurt in a spar, when—
Thud.
A solid hand caught me.
"M-Master?"
"Hey. That left an impression, Char."
He had blocked my attack and, in the same breath, caught the body it had launched. A hollow laugh slipped out of me. I had figured Jerik would take it, but it had been snuffed out so cleanly it felt empty.
So this really is a self-destruct technique?
I was tasting that bitterness when he spoke.
"Take some pride in this. It isn't an easy thing."
Jerik showed me the shallow gouge in his right palm. A small wound, from an attack that had literally poured everything in. It told me the gap between us was larger than I had thought, though Jerik seemed to see it differently.
"This is honestly absurd."
That look of open admiration was a small comfort. And then my consciousness sank.
How much time had passed?
"You awake?"
"...Master?"
I opened my eyes in a familiar room, and there was Jerik.
"Well done."
"Yes?"
"Kirk looked pretty shaken. He went at that spear like a madman for a long while, then left."
Good. At least I had knocked the attitude out of my little brother. The thought put a bit of strength back in me.
"Ngh. The technique—how was it?"
"Outstanding. But it's a pretty dangerous one."
That left a bitter taste.
"...Yes. Well. I did keep my senses during the quest, though. If I stay tense..."
"No, no. Calling it nothing more than a penalty of blacking out doesn't even make sense. You don't feel like your lifespan got shorter? Like your body's wasting away?"
What was he talking about now?
"...No. Nothing that extreme."
"Don't answer me offhand. Think it through. Check your condition."
His face was grave enough that I circulated mana and looked myself over, but nothing seemed wrong.
"...There's nothing? It just feels like I dumped every bit of strength I had at the time."
"Then... it's a charge-type skill with truly astonishing efficiency. At your grade. No mount. Nothing but a human body's momentum. Ha..."
??
"...Simply put, it looks like a skill whose efficiency surpasses even supreme grade. This is a deep-link skill, isn't it?"
"What's that?"
"...You know mana efficiency is generally fixed by a skill's grade, right? More precisely, that's why the grades are divided in the first place."
"Yes. More or less..."
"That Piercing Strike you showed completely blew past supreme-grade efficiency. It only looks like it's displayed at a permitted grade because it's a linked technique with other skills."
"A link... Ah, yes. It is that kind of technique."
Volante Footwork and Resonance Spear. When I gave him a rough account of the flow, Jerik let out another hollow laugh.
"You inverted the footwork's mana to make weight...? You'd made up your mind to die, hadn't you!? There's a limit to not knowing what you're doing!"
That, too, was a different point from the one I had expected.
"Is that dangerous?"
"Of course it is. It's a miracle your mana circuits and blood vessels didn't burst on the spot. Ha. And yet that's probably why this absurd skill came out of it, so... what even is this..."
Was it really that incredible? I had thought Jerik was laying it on thick.
"This technique doesn't have a skill level, does it?"
"Ah. Yes. It just says Max. I was going to ask about that anyway."
"That's exactly it. Simply put, when your footwork and spear art evolve, Piercing Strike's grade will evolve with them. That's why it has no level of its own. A deep-link skill is that sort of thing. You understand what that means?"
"Oh!?"
"Once your footwork and spear art hit supreme grade, this technique becomes rare grade. Evolve them further, and it climbs another tier above that. You could build your whole ability and skill tree around this technique as your core."
"I... see."
"Training to get used to it is fine, but this was the ultimate fusion of your spear art and footwork from the start, so the skill itself won't grow much further. That time is better spent on spear and footwork. Ah—and the grain has to stay the same all the way through. The moment either your spear art or your footwork evolves off the flow, that skill is gone. Understand?"
It was astonishing. Far past anything I had expected.
"That's... good, right?"
"Of course! Efficiency like this at your grade, and any guild would raise you as a damage dealer. Even accounting for the weakness of your Ability Slot, the power of this one blow is absolutely worth using. You could say it practically changed the course of your life..."
Jerik looked relieved as he said it, which only made me awkward.
A guild?
He must have caught my expression, because he tilted his head.
"What? You're not happy?"
"...For now, I'm thinking of doing as much as I can on my own."
"...Even after you're past the Novice stretch?"
"Yes. If I can."
Only once I could protect myself even if the secret of the Goblin Basket and my trait got out. I didn't know when that would be. Until then, joining a group still felt dangerous.
"...Hmm. It's good that you're confident. You've got more talent than I thought, and you're growing fast. But the Labyrinth is far too dangerous and harsh a place to keep walking alone."
"I know. But I want to try until it works, even if that's what it takes. Palace or guild, neither of them sits right with me."
That was the truth as well.
"Ah..."
Jerik gave a bitter smile and nodded.
"...Then hold that technique back unless things are truly at their worst. You felt it yourself. There's nothing after it."
"...Yes. Of course."
I had felt it in a mere spar. How could I throw it around carelessly? It was enough to understand it as a hidden trump card.
"If you ever get your hands on a high-grade mount... No. Never mind. This is—"
"Yes?"
"Too early to say. Don't worry about it. So when are you heading for the sixth floor?"
"...Since you said what you said, I'll train spear and footwork a bit before I decide. There's something I'm waiting on, too."
"Waiting on?"
"I ordered something from the Magic Tower."
"You? Already?"
"Ah, it's that mass-produced item. The one Kirk got from his guild."
"That? Why would you need it? And before that—if it's mass-produced, why are you waiting?"
"...They said they're out of stock."
I swallowed the part about having ordered four hundred pairs. Jerik clicked his tongue and nodded.
"Right. Train hard. That might be better than rushing."
"Yes."
"Ah, and don't go thinking skill evolution comes easy. I'm telling you to train like you're seating the technique in your body."
"Yes. Of course."
"You're a Summoner, so even if you someday force a skill to evolve with those points, the more familiar the technique is in your body, the better the effect..."
"Yeah, yeah. I know!"
Ugh.
I dodged the nagging Jerik had started out of nowhere and got to my feet.
It was unfortunate—or, looked at another way, only to be expected—but a week passed without the miracle of a skill evolving. I contented myself, as Jerik had said, with seating in my body the techniques I had grown through combat.
"Using your level-up points to evolve it like this would be fine..."
"I'll try to save them as much as I can."
"...All right. Still, if it ever feels dangerous, use them. Nothing is more precious than your life."
"Of course."
What finally wrapped the training up was that it was time to collect the four hundred pairs of voice-filter earrings I had ordered from the Magic Tower. I had gotten my ears pierced in the meantime, too.
I should pick up at least one recovery potion with what's left. Expensive, though.
I had seen what one could do on the fifth floor, clear as day, so I meant to keep a spare.
"But why are you trying to use those earrings? You're going solo."
"Just... because they're pretty?"
"...What?"
Even Jerik, who had helped me on the grounds that a piercing for artifact earrings was only natural for an adventurer, looked thoroughly soured by that answer.
"Well then! I'll be back."
I had no interest in the lecture, so I headed straight for the Magic Tower. There I took the promised four hundred pairs of earrings, for the princely sum of two hundred gold.
I bought a potion, too.
"It'll knock a wound that ought to kill you on the spot down to a bad injury."
A potion with a pitch that pathetic cost a hundred gold. Unbelievable.
Then what about the one I had back in Bartus...?
The fifth floor was seared into my body, so I had no choice but to spend the fortune anyway. Back in my room, I started synthesizing the earrings.