Chapter 4

It took Ludmila a good half-minute of instinctively avoiding the Blood Meat Hulk’s blows before she unequipped her glaive and managed to still herself.

The giant Undead creature brought its fists together for an overhead smash. More than anything else, it was the sound and sense of pressure that came with the attack that filled her awareness. It was not a fast strike by her measure, but the sheer momentum behind a Blood Meat Hulk’s massive fists had been enough to severely damage her brigandine armour and crush her ribs the previous day.

Physically speaking, it was not as overwhelming as she thought it would be. Its fists made contact with the top of her head, but the strikes from the Death Knight had jarred her more. The soles of her boots were driven into the soft, dry soil, then the clenched fists came apart around her. Naturally, the Blood Meat Hulk squeezed her in its hands, and Ludmila was lifted into the air.

“So, how do you like your new equipment?”

The Sorcerer King’s voice came from nearby, muffled by the fingers closed over her.

Her world whirled as the Blood Meat Hulk raised her over its head and slapped her into the ground. Like when she had been swatted away before, the sense of detachment from what was happening to her still felt strange. A Human would have been disoriented by the first blow to the head, if not worse. Breathing would have been difficult while getting squeezed in the Blood Meat Hulk’s fists. Being dashed into the ground would leave one winded and senseless.

As one of the Undead, she understood what was happening to her and what she should feel. Unlike a Human, her consciousness was separate from her body and her thoughts were perfectly clear. There was no shortness of breath; none of the disorientation or panic that came from being treated like the unfortunate rag doll of some toddler in the middle of a tantrum.

A fist came down to flatten her. She raised a hand from where she lay on the ground.

“「Fortress」.”

The Defensive Art activated with no more or less difficulty than usual. The barrel-sized fist stopped against her raised palm.

A Human would have had extreme difficulties regaining the presence of mind to use a Martial Art after experiencing what she had just gone through. The Blood Meat Hulk raised its fist for another attack. Ludmila sat up and moved out of the way. She quickly glanced over herself before replying, stepping around as she avoided the Undead hulk’s ponderous attacks.

“I don’t think there’s any damage to the armour,” she finally replied to His Majesty’s question. “My mobility is still perfect. The blunt force still seems to transfer through, however. I took a tiny amount of damage on the first hit, then a bit more when it sent me to the ground.”

“There are certain rules that come with magical equipment,” the Sorcerer King told her. “You might have learned them from the Adventurer Guild eventually, but they’re still in the process of gearing up. Finish off that Blood Meat Hulk and we can explore some of it in detail.”

Ludmila activated Ability Boost as she sidestepped yet another attack, calling her glaive to hand. Her Slash took one of the Blood Meat Hulk’s arms off at the elbow. The ease by which her new weapon went through the trunk-like limb threw Ludmila – who was expecting more substantial resistance – off balance. Her arm went high and she stumbled slightly.

The Sorcerer King’s chuckle drifted down from above.

“It seems that the armour is not the only thing you’ll need to get used to.”

She regained her balance, and her eyes went between her blade and the regenerating stump of the Blood Meat Hulk’s arm. Her weapon may as well have cut through a piece of paper.

“I know that there’s a significant difference between flesh and steel,” Ludmila said, “but how did the Skeleton Warriors defend against this glaive with their equipment?”

“It goes back to the idea of hardness and sundering attacks,” the Sorcerer King replied as she finished dispatching her opponent. “Even with a superior weapon, one must hit a piece of equipment just right in order to damage it. Sundering attacks are purposeful strikes against an opponent’s equipment, but the use of such attacks is rare here.”

Not attacking a shield or weapon an opponent used to defend themselves was common sense for most combatants. Every strike made against an enemy’s weapon was one not made against the enemy. In addition, doing so opened up additional opportunities for an opponent to counter, as they would come to understand that they were not being targeted by potentially lethal attacks.

Unless one was reasonably certain that it was ultimately less risky to destroy an enemy’s weapon or shield than it was to injure their enemy, one would not employ sundering attacks. These risks included not only exposing oneself to harm, but also spending far more time and energy hacking away at equipment.

With a superior weapon and her Revenant traits, however, sundering attacks were potentially quite effective. Not only would she damage equipment faster, but she did not tire and could regenerate. In the context of personal combat, time was an enemy of the living. For the Undead, it was an ally.

“Does this apply to armour, as well?”

“Yes, and no,” the Sorcerer King told her. “Specifically damaging armour functions in an identical way, but attacking an individual works differently.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Your Majesty.”

Dust rose lightly into the air as the Sorcerer King and Lady Shalltear settled on the ground beside her.

“Consider how damage was transferred through your armour,” he said. “An attack that surpasses certain defensive values will result in damage. A Death Knight, for instance, can bisect a Human in plate armour if the damage that they deal with a strike does enough damage to cut them in half, even though they did not use a sundering attack against the armour. If that armour was magical it would reconstitute itself after the fact, but the person inside would still be cut in half.”

Ludmila had seen this happen to the soldiers of the Goblin army that flooded the upper reach in the summer, but she attributed it to the sheer force that Death Knights and Death Warriors attacked with. Practically speaking, she supposed that it led to the same result. She considered His Majesty’s words, and a thought occurred to her.

“Does this mean that defending with a shield or weapon can be more effective than the protection offered by armour?”

“You catch on quickly,” the Sorcerer King nodded. “Shalltear.”

“Yes, Lord Ainz?”

“Give Miss Zahradnik a demonstration of how this applies in practice.”

“With pleasure.”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Lady Shalltear stepped forward, unequipping her gauntlets. She held up the pinky finger of her right hand.

“Ludmila,” her liege told her. “Attack me with your new weapon.”

Behind Lady Shalltear, the Sorcerer King nodded at Ludmila’s unspoken question. She levelled her weapon at Lady Shalltear and lowered her stance. In a single, smooth motion, she exploded forward into a lunge aimed directly at her liege’s abdomen.

At the receiving end of Ludmila’s five-metre reach, Lady Shalltear stopped the powerful strike with the nail of her pinky finger. Ludmila recentred herself, eyeing the extended digit.

“Was that some Martial Art or Skill, my lady?” Ludmila asked.

“No, it was just my fingernail,” her liege answered lightly.

Impossible.

Ludmila narrowed her eyes at the still-raised pinky. What had happened defied all logic and common sense.

Polearm attacks were incredibly powerful – far beyond what one could achieve with a sword. Speed, leverage, momentum and the weight of the wielder all combined to generate attacks that easily blasted through the guard presented by another weapon. Generally speaking, one needed a heavy shield or another polearm to block a fully committed polearm strike from an evenly-matched opponent. It was certainly not something one could stop with a fingernail – her attack had not been deflected or caught and redirected, but flat out blocked.

“Again,” Lady Shalltear said.

Ludmila directed a diagonal Slash at Lady Shalltear’s left shoulder. It was flicked away by the same extended pinky finger.

“Again.”

She activated Ability Boost and Strengthen Perception. Her next attack was a Piercing Strike directed towards Lady Shalltear’s knee. Once again, the blade was flicked away. A half dozen attacks followed, with identical results. No matter the angle, no matter the direction in which she made her attacks, all of them were blocked or deflected.

Finally, she used her most potent Strike Art: the three-pronged attack that could blast her opponents backwards in the blink of an eye. Lady Shalltear smirked in Ludmila’s enhanced perception. The pinky finger moved to intercept each independently-acting vector in a split second, leaving Lady Shalltear perfectly unharmed while Ludmila’s regeneration worked to restore her lost health.

“Even if Lady Shalltear cannot be harmed by this weapon,” Ludmila said, “she is less than half of my weight. How is it possible for her to block my strikes without budging a single millimetre?”

“I’m sure you understand that past a certain point,” the Sorcerer King said, “one begins to step into a realm beyond that of what most consider mundane. As an Adventurer, one begins to experience this shift around Gold or Platinum-rank.”

Ludmila nodded at his words.

“I understand this,” she said. “Or at least I thought that I understood. The differences that first appear are very concrete, however. Developing Martial Arts, Skills and Abilities. Growing in physical power and magical capacity…but the rules of the mundane world still broadly apply. In my experience, unless one focuses on using a series of Defensive Arts, it would be next to impossible to come out of that exchange just now unscathed. The only person that has managed to do so before now is a Dragon.”

“The steps on the path to power are not linear,” His Majesty told her. “I’m sure you’ve heard of individual Orichalcum and Adamantite-rank Adventurers being equated to armies of common soldiers. This is not an exaggeration: it is a fact.”

She had indeed heard something along those lines, but simply hearing it didn’t feel real. That a monster or a being with advantageous characteristics might be that strong was believable, as they could be impervious to damage or otherwise impossible to harm. A Human, however, was just a Human. They did not have supernatural damage reduction, regeneration or limitless physical stamina. Shrewd tacticians would seek to wear these types of adversaries down and seal off any routes of escape so they could finish them off.

“How would Humans achieve this?” Ludmila asked, “I do not believe that they gain any natural advantages beyond what they are born with.”

“You’re right that they don’t,” the Sorcerer King answered. “The answer is the same for anyone: a Human uses magic items or Job Class features to cover for their weaknesses. Armour and defensive enchantments protect one from harm. Equipment can confer regeneration of health and stamina; offer flight and immunities to various conditions. One can even gain damage reduction.”

“It’s true that Adventurers try to shore up some of their weaknesses,” she said, “but trying to cover all of them is considered little more than a dream.”

“Working towards those dreams is a joy in itself, is it not? Low-level items are not powerful enough to come close to covering for every weakness, but as one grows in strength and earns more, they can afford increasingly better equipment. Pursuing magic items in markets, searching for crafters and following rumours – this is an Adventure in itself, and seeing everything slowly come together is quite fulfilling.”

Perhaps she couldn’t truly empathise with what he said because she was a Noble. If she needed something, she bought it if it was available. Ludmila did not earn a stipend from the Adventurer Guild, as she declined on the grounds of not being a full participant in their activities, opting to collect points to make purchases for their internal catalogue instead. Due to her limited participation, however, that point income was a fraction of what full-time Adventurers earned.

Other things were more interesting to her, such as planning development for her demesne and watching it grow. She found fulfilment in carrying out her duties to land and liege. She found no joy in collecting equipment as other Adventurers seemed to.

“At any rate,” the Sorcerer King continued, “the rule of thumb is that if one does not take damage, any associated effects that come with an attack will not occur to you. A Soul Eater with a fully-loaded freight wagon could crash into me, but I would not budge despite having this skeletal form. At low levels, damage can often transfer through armour and other attempts at defence. This becomes less and less prevalent the wider the gap is between combatants and their equipment.”

“I see…so this is why Dame Verilyn recognized that I had supernatural attacks when I pushed her down on my bed.”

“Oh~”

“You what?”

“I-I mean, she was surprised that I could knock her back. She’s used to attacks not hurting her and thus did not expect the ‘associated effect’, as Your Majesty put it.”

Another event from that same night stuck out to her.

“If I don’t experience those effects when I don’t take damage,” she said, “why is it that the wind could blow me off of a Frost Dragon’s back while flying from place to place?”

“Hmm…what were you wearing?”

“A dress.”

“Was it enchanted?”

Ludmila shook her head.

“That would be why,” the Sorcerer King said. “Mundane items are unlike magic items in the fact that they do not ‘adapt’ to their wearer. You were effectively wearing a sail. You won’t experience that knockback-like effect with what you’re wearing right now, or with the other outfit that Shalltear put together for you.”

“So by successfully blocking or parrying an attack,” Ludmila said, “No damage is received and none of the effects that accompany that attack are experienced. That means one could successfully parry a Dragon and not get bowled over by the force of the strike.”

“It is simple on paper,” the Sorcerer King told her, “and some can become so skilled that they can defend against spells and attacks powerful enough to break the rules of the world. My Paladin friend that I spoke of was one such individual. But achieving this degree of defensive skill is difficult, as you might imagine. Considering your apparent combat style, I would say that you could indeed fend off a Juvenile Dragon like this – perhaps even a newly Adult one, depending on the species. That’s if they don’t have Job Class Levels on top of their Racial Class Levels, of course.”

The Sorcerer King watched her silently as she considered his words. After a moment, his gaze went to Lady Shalltear, and he appeared to consider something himself.

“How about you try a sundering attack against Shalltear?”

“I’m sorry Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied, “but I haven’t mastered any sundering attacks. I don’t think anyone in the Adventurer Guild employs them, either.”

“A shame,” the Sorcerer King said. “Shalltear once encountered a man who was able to damage her fingernail with a sundering attack. By her account, his equipment was rather shoddy so I thought you might be able to replicate that feat with your superior weapon. We’ll find out when you learn, hm?”

Without the benefit of an instructor, Ludmila wondered how many years it would take to learn a Strike Art with sundering properties. Her house’s school of combat did not incorporate those types of attacks at all, as it was impractical to use them with the mundane equipment available in the past.

Still, the Sorcerer King appeared to have an interest in them. She would do everything she could to learn.