I Was Mistaken for a Monstrous Genius Barbarian - Chapter 30: Ego Weapon (1)
It had already been five days since I, Balun, started staying at the Wolf Blade Guild headquarters.
During those five days, I'd thrown myself into intensive training. My usual routine was the four basics: martial arts techniques, throwing practice, strength training, and sprints. Ever since meeting Kalente, I'd added mana breathing exercises, making it five. But that was all just fundamentals.
What I really wanted to master this time were applied techniques using my Reinforcement Technique. Especially the foot stomp I'd used a couple of times before. I'd used it unconsciously, but I already knew it stemmed from an application of Reinforcement. I'd always wanted to explore it properly, but never had the time until now. I was determined to make it truly mine.
There was a world of difference between firing it off on instinct and wielding it with full control.
Thud!
I stomped the ground. The earth trembled faintly, and the dirt on the training field's surface shivered visibly. The range was about a five-meter radius.
'Definitely smaller when I hold back the power. The vibration radius shrinks accordingly.'
I caught my breath, wiped the sweat pouring off me like rain, and stomped again. Same motion, but this time I put more force into my legs.
Boom!
A louder thud echoed, shaking a much wider area. Visually, at least double—around a ten-meter radius?
'This much power gives this range.'
I kept at it, practicing the foot stomp repeatedly. The key was varying the force with each stomp. I had to experiment precisely to see what destructive power each level produced if I wanted to control the technique on demand.
Starting from a one-meter radius and gradually ramping up the power until I hit around thirty meters—that was the drill. Stomping consciously, dialing the force up and down, imprinting each power level into my body.
It was great seeing my technique proficiency skyrocket so fast, but there was one drawback. I couldn't practice at full power.
Simple reason: the training yard had limits. I'd capped it at thirty meters because that seemed like the threshold without causing a nuisance. Any more, and the whole building would shake. Crack the walls by accident? No thanks.
'Wanna try full throttle... but it'd be way too much trouble.'
Truth was, thirty meters wasn't even my max. So how much farther would full power reach? And the raw destructive force?
Just frustrating.
'Guess anything beyond this needs real combat practice. Or I set up my own dedicated training ground.'
Still, the session left me satisfied. I'd basically acquired a new skill—a wide-area stun, no less. Not great for one-on-one, but perfect for multiple foes. No lethality, but toppling a crowd's balance? Game-changer.
* * *
After training, I washed off the sweat and pondered as I scrubbed.
'Feels like I could invent way more techniques using Reinforcement.'
Intensive practice had shown me just how limitless this power was. Reinforcement wasn't just brute strength—it transcended human limits into something more.
For now, with my meager skill and experience, I only had raw power and the foot stomp. But once I leveled up, I could develop all sorts of powerful, varied moves.
"Hey, barbarian. You in there?"
A man's voice from outside. Not Philip—probably some Wolf Blade guild member.
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Visitor. Get to the reception room."
"Visitor?"
"Told you. I'm out."
The voice faded. Dropped the news and bounced, huh?
I dried off quick, threw on clothes, and headed straight to the reception room. There sat a green-haired elf with pointy ears, glaring at me with narrowed eyes.
"Seria?"
"You bastard, finally show your face?"
"What? Weapons done already?"
I tilted my head. We'd parted just six days ago, and forging took longer, right?
"Weapons matter right now? You almost dying is what matters!"
"Oh, yeah, that."
I nodded. Close call with death. Scared the shit out of me. But looking back, it wasn't that bad. Wolf Blade was weaker than expected, and I was stronger. Biggest takeaway? I was way tougher than I thought.
"What 'oh yeah'! How do you barbarians treat life so cheap? You got spares?"
What the hell is this?
Who disregarded life?
No one treasures their life more than me.
"Why the anger?"
"How could I not be pissed? Almost became the bitch who let a customer die. And you're not just any customer—you're Kalente's disciple!"
"Disciple? Me?"
"Obviously!"
"Not a disciple."
"Then why'd Kalente send you my way? He doesn't recommend me to just anyone."
Seria sighed deeply and continued.
"One question. If something like that happened, why didn't you run straight to me? Why stay quiet?"
"Should've?"
"Duh! This is my business first. I should've handled it."
"You could've fixed it?"
"W-Well..."
"Couldn't, so that's why it dragged on."
Seria mumbled evasively. My face turned serious.
"No fix from you anyway. Only answer: win."
"..."
"Balun fought. Balun won. Balun solved. Done, right?"
I skipped mentioning I'd planned to bolt without a backward glance, Seria or not. Too embarrassing to admit.
"Philip promised for Balun. No more bullshit. You take other customers now. Chill."
"...Not that."
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry!" Seria yelled.
I flinched. Why scream?
"I had no clue, hammered away like an idiot for six days straight. Didn't give a damn if my customer lived or died. Got it?"
"Kinda figured."
No way she'd stay silent this long if she knew.
"Figured and didn't come? Even later would've been fine."
"You forging. Me interrupt, focus breaks. Slows you down."
"Over something that petty...? Hah."
Seria chuckled suddenly.
"You're surprisingly considerate for a barbarian."
"Considerate?"
"Thanks for thinking of me. But no need. I'm no amateur who botches work over distractions."
My eyes widened. Consideration? Bullshit.
I just wanted weapons fast. Not for you.
But not done yet, right? Hurry up and finish so I can grab 'em.
Wasted time here—should be hammering instead. I got antsy.
"Really, thanks."
"Huh?"
"Had to say it."
She went on.
"Was thinking of leaving, but you fixed it. No need now. Thanks to you."
"Wondered about that, yeah."
"What?"
"Why stay? Could move anywhere."
I continued.
"Wolf Blade harassed you. I'd bail early. You didn't."
"..."
"Why? Move, forge freely."
"..."
"Threatened? Kill you if you leave?"
Seria's lips sealed. They parted after about ten seconds.
"You're right. Could go anywhere, plenty invite me. But I stayed."
"Why?"
"This forge? Master's. Like my father's."
My eyes went wide. Master, huh.
"He handed it to me before passing. How could I leave?"
"Got it. Understood."
"No more questions?"
"Need more?"
Seria chuckled.
"You're weird. Others pry endlessly; you don't even ask."
"Guard master's legacy. Done. No more needed."
"Yeah, spot on. That's it. But humans always grilled me: Why elf take human master? Live with humans? Be a smith? Ugh, endless."
"Rough."
"You don't. I like that."
Seria smiled. I blinked, dumbfounded.
Duh, gotta know basics to ask.
I lacked basics. Elves live separate or mixed? No clue. Games showed both.
Don't know, can't ask.
If I did, I'd pry.
"Here. Take it."
"What?"
"Your weapons."
Seria pulled something from the corner. Cloth-covered.
"Yeah, weapons... Huh?"
I jumped. Weapons? Already?
"Figured you wanted 'em quick, rushed it. Might not love it."
"Can check?"
"Go ahead."
Excited, I unveiled them. Three gleaming axes: one two-handed, two one-handed. Handles black like lacquer, blades rippling with damascus patterns. Simple design overall. Plain, maybe, but modern and sleek—right up my alley.
"Bit too black? Your call. Only way to process true elfwood per your specs."
"No! Perfect! Awesome!"
"Aw-Awesome?"
"Yep!"
"Unexpected. Thought you'd hate it. Not ordinary-looking."
Whatever she said, fell on deaf ears. I just grinned, caressing them.
Damn, grip's insane. Perfect.
At my level, feel alone tells good from crap. These? Top-tier. Grip fused to my hand like an extension.
Finish flawless. Edges razor-sharp.
Above all, sturdy. Wood handles, but steel-solid grip.
Best weapons I'd ever touched, hands down.
"Thanks! I'll use 'em well!"
I bowed deep. Seria smirked.
"Hold up. Not done."
"More?"
"No usage instructions?"
I tilted my head. Instructions? Axes are axes.
"Forgot? Ego Weapons."
"Oh, right."
My face twisted oddly. So these axes were alive?
Axes move? Flying axe arts?
Not swords, so axe fu?
"First, bleed a bit."
"Bleed?"
"Yeah. Drop a couple drops on the axes. Imprint ritual."
"Imprint ritual."
"Makes you their master."
"Ah, fingerprint registration."
"Finger... what?"
I was impressed. Biometric weapon—blood-locked. High-tech as hell.
Did as told. Dagger out, nick finger, drip drops on each.
"Done. Good now?"
"Wait. You'll know."
"Know what—"
I froze. Foreign sensation. Like three worms slithering inside me?
They surged, nesting in my heart. Vision went black.
Moments later, silhouettes shimmered into view before my eyes.