The blazing sun beat down, scorching the earth.
In the backyard of the Oak Inn, a black-haired, black-eyed youth with handsome features gripped a practice wooden sword, engaged in nearly masochistic training, drenched in sweat.
The simple linen shirt on his body had long been completely soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to his skin and outlining muscle lines as agile and solid as a cheetah's, far surpassing those of his peers.
Even though the muscles in both arms already ached unbearably, Orum never stopped, not even to rest for a single minute.
At this moment, he seemed like a precision golem born for battle. Every movement was textbook perfect, swift and precise, forged through countless repetitions, endlessly repeating the same action sequence: raise the sword, extend the wrist, step forward, shift weight forward, execute an extreme straight thrust!
Each time the wooden sword thrust out, his physical strength was pushed to its limits by exquisite technique.
Orum's form suddenly blurred, as if teleporting, appearing a foot away and executing a fierce thrust.
Then he'd turn, counter-thrust, without the slightest pause!
Such high-intensity consecutive combat technique execution placed an unimaginable terrible burden on the body.
This kind of demonic training was beyond what any ordinary person could imagine.
It was like sprinting at full speed in a frenzy—in less than ten minutes, all the body's strength would be drained, muscles dissolving, collapsing to the ground.
However, under the frenzied beating of the two resilient hearts in Orum's chest, all common sense was overturned!
They were like two never-extinguishing volcanoes housed within his ribcage, pumping out scalding blood in a frenzy, infusing inexhaustible power into his limbs and bones.
At this moment, each time he thrust his sword, the penetrating sensation of power flowing through his entire body, along with the tearing ache deep in his muscles, brought Orum not pain but rather an exhilarating sense of satisfaction.
"Adventurer sir, you've been practicing all morning again. Won't you rest and eat something?"
The window on the inn's first floor was pushed open, and the innkeeper Sophia poked her head out, calling with a smile to the youth who kept thrusting his sword in the backyard.
"It's been a whole morning already? Time flies so fast." Orum paused, responding to Sophia:
"Alright, the usual—double signature meal sets."
"Okay!" The corners of Sophia's mouth curved into a sweet arc as she turned to prepare his lunch.
Placing the wooden sword on the weapon rack nearby, Orum exhaled a hot white breath. Sweat poured from every pore of his body like floodgates opening.
The sweat fell onto the sun-scorched earth, dyeing the brownish-red soil a darker shade.
After washing off in the small wooden shed in the backyard with cool well water and changing into a fresh set of clothes, Orum finally entered the tavern hall.
The lunch Sophia had carefully prepared was already on the table—two pieces of roasted pork ribs with crispy golden-brown skin.
Where they were cut, the meat showed a tender pale red.
Orum took a big bite. Rich meat juices instantly burst in his mouth, scalding hot and delicious, carrying the distinctive mellow fat fragrance of pork.
Sophia's cooking skills were in no way inferior to Lila's. It was just that during the busy dinner rush every evening, the inn was simply too hectic and she couldn't manage everything alone, which was why she needed to hire Lila to help.
After wolfing down the food, Orum finished both signature meal sets. After briefly digesting, he returned to the backyard.
More sword practice!
This was now the seventh day since Orum had returned to Blackwater Town, the seventh day staying at the Oak Inn.
For these seven days and seven nights, aside from the eating and sleeping necessary to sustain life.
He'd invested virtually every minute and every second into honing his combat techniques, accumulating proficiency in Combat Technique: Thrust at an astonishing speed.
During this time, he'd only gone out once, heading to the Blackwater Town monitoring station to meet the bearded dwarf, Scholar Hal.
Orum reported to Scholar Hal the intelligence regarding the withered treants in the Misty Forest and received a reward of 10 gold coins.
"You're saying that those lowly creatures, goblins, are systematically capturing fairies in large numbers? What does this mean?"
The intelligence Orum brought back was too bizarre. Even this dwarf scholar from Candlekeep, learned and knowledgeable, was shocked.
Scholar Hal instructed Orum that if he encountered any other strange discoveries in the forest in the future, he should report them as well. There would be more gold coin rewards at that time.
Other than that, Orum remained single-mindedly focused, completely immersed in training his [Combat Technique: Thrust].
Orum trained so desperately for two reasons.
First, his last trip into the Misty Forest had left Orum with a very heavy feeling. Each time he recalled it, Orum felt immense pressure.
The current Misty Forest contained both rampaging goblins, swarming like green-skinned locusts, and mutated plants, a special type of monster that had never been observed before.
It could be said that the current danger level of the Misty Forest was countless times higher than before.
Orum had even quietly overheard Scholar Hal discussing in low voices with researchers at the monitoring station.
They were very worried that the monsters in the Misty Forest might, in the near future, brew a large-scale monster tide sufficient to assault Blackwater Town!
To preserve his life in this looming crisis, improving his strength had undoubtedly become Orum's most urgent goal.
The second reason was the extreme positive feedback provided by his status panel.
Each time he practiced Thrust, a notification immediately popped up showing Proficiency +1.
You have to understand that in reality, learning any skill is extremely arduous and lengthy, requiring years and years of effort before achieving even modest success.
Moreover, for ordinary people, there's the issue of "use it or lose it."
Any slackness means skills actually get worse rather than better.
But now, with the panel assisting his learning, every sword swing wouldn't be wasted. Each execution of Thrust solidified 1 point of proficiency.
Not only was his progress incredibly rapid, but his foundation was also extremely solid and stable, absolutely incomparable to what ordinary people could achieve through hard practice.
So during this period of practice, Orum even developed a kind of addiction. Each time he executed a combat technique and saw the panel notification pop up, he felt an indescribable pleasure.
Driven both by real pressure and this "pain mixed with pleasure" mentality, Orum transformed into a merciless sword-practicing machine, pouring all his energy into perfecting [Combat Technique: Thrust].
During these seven days, Orum ate all three meals at the Oak Inn.
His sweat-soaked dirty clothes were placed in a wooden bucket and, at a price of 5 copper coins per day, given to Lila to wash.
Orum felt somewhat fortunate that this trip into the Misty Forest had earned him a handsome first pot of gold.
Otherwise, he might not even be able to afford three meals a day.
He'd have to spend large amounts of time just surviving—how could he possibly focus single-mindedly on improving himself?
With money, he could outsource life's trivial matters to others. He could invest all the saved time into training and give it his all.
In just one week,
Orum had already practiced what would normally take over a decade to master to LV5!
Moreover, during sword practice, Orum clearly felt that there seemed to be a kind of bottleneck sensation lying before him, urgently awaiting a breakthrough.
With each point of LV5 Thrust proficiency he gained, this bottleneck sensation grew stronger.
"Very likely, this is the bottleneck to the mastery level!"
"One more step beyond LV5, and it's mastery!"
Orum didn't delay in the slightest and intensified his practice.
Finally, time came to the morning of the eighth day.
Due to his biological clock, Orum woke from bed early in the morning as usual.
Today, Orum didn't wear his linen training clothes. Instead, he changed into a brand new outfit.
On top, he wore a charcoal gray cotton-linen short shirt with a tough dark brown soft leather vest over it.
This vest could be removed at any time when adventuring outdoors and replaced with an inner leather armor, then covered with an outer layer of chain mail, forming three layers of protection sufficient to resist claws, fangs, sword strikes, and axe blows.
On the bottom, he wore a pair of indigo blue work pants, the legs neatly tucked into a pair of knee-high soft leather boots.
These brand new leather boots had shiny surfaces with anti-slip copper studs on the soles.
The boots were made of deerskin, the same material as Dorian's pair, but with more refined craftsmanship.
Around his waist was a wide leather belt with a brass buckle shaped like a simplified wolf's head.
On the left side of the belt hung a leather short sword sheath with a sharp short sword inserted inside, ready to be drawn at any moment to deal with any close-range crisis.
On Orum's back, slung diagonally, was a thick, tough black cowhide sword sheath. The sharp snowsteel sword rested quietly within, revealing only its simple hilt.
The sheath's design was carefully considered. When slung diagonally across his back, the opening was near his right shoulder.
When drawing the sword, Orum only needed to raise his right hand, reach toward the hilt behind his shoulder, and with a slight exertion of his wrist, he could pull the snowsteel sword from his back.
The movement was so fluid that he couldn't help but recall a certain witcher swordsman from deep in his memory.
This entire outfit wasn't cheap, costing Orum a full 15 gold coins. Most of the expense went toward the tough black cowhide sword sheath and those mobility-friendly deerskin boots.
Looking at the familiar backyard before him, as the cool morning breeze blew over, Orum's heart stirred.
The status panel had already appeared in his vision.
[Combat Technique: Thrust]
[Current Combat Technique Level: LV5 (499/500)]
Just one more point.
Orum calmed his mind and gripped the sword hilt behind his back. With a "shing—" sound, the snowsteel sword left its sheath.
In that very moment, the world in his eyes suddenly slowed.
A withered leaf before him drifted slowly down from midair. Its trajectory infinitely decelerated, slower and slower.
Every detail of each tumble was clearly visible.
When it fell to about a person's height from the ground, it seemed to freeze in midair.
No, Orum had become faster.
His form suddenly blurred. A snow-bright sword light tore through the morning air.
Orum fiercely stepped forward. The steel sword in his hand had already pierced through that frozen falling leaf, its incomparably sharp blade splitting it precisely in two!
"Proficiency +1"
"[Thrust] LV5 (500/500) — [Thrust] LV6 (Max)"
[Strength +1, Agility +1]
In this instant, Orum felt a magnificent power descend from the void, like an enlightenment pouring into him.
Countless images exploded in his mind—these were the crystallized essence of a week's worth of practice, each thrust of the sword.
At this moment, these memory fragments were smelted and refined a thousand times over, finally branded like a seal deeply into his mind!
Inside his body, it was as if some invisible shackles were completely shattered with a "crack."
A scorching warm current surged from his heart, instantly rushing to his limbs and bones.
Blood vessels swelled, bones crackled, every bundle of muscle fiber was being re-tempered, every nerve ending became unprecedentedly acute!
Orum could clearly feel that his strength, explosive power, reaction speed, reflexes, and combat instincts had, in this moment, gained comprehensive growth like being reborn!
Orum had heard before that after training a combat technique to mastery, one would receive resonance and gifts from the world's rules, permanently elevating the practitioner's attributes.
This was why those who possessed mastery-level combat techniques, even when not using them, had combat ability a tier above ordinary people.
Orum could feel that at this moment, he could easily crush a bugbear!
"The sword has been sharpened. It's time to hunt. I need more and stronger monster organs!"
Orum sheathed his sword. After enjoying a hearty breakfast at the Oak Inn, he strode toward the Adventurer's Hall.
"Welcome, Mr. Orum!"
Behind the work counter, the moment Lila saw Orum, her eyes instantly lit up.
Covering her mouth with a sly smile, she said, "You look very stylish today.
This outfit... could it be you have a date with some beautiful lady?"
"No, I changed into new clothes just to deal with people."
Orum sat down in the chair across from her, his gaze calmly meeting her bright, expressive eyes as he got straight to the point:
"Lila, please help me find a team that's currently recruiting teammates."
"The team requirement is: focused on extermination missions, hunting monsters as frequently as possible."