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[Skill-Eater] Chapter 102: Naginata
🕑 Added 2024-09-13 17:01:01 +0000 UTCEdge walked into the Forge with a spring in a step, so excited that he was dancing from one foot to the other every few paces. Every hour that had passed since he’d commissioned the weapon had felt like an eternity. At long last, the wait was finally over.
He’d spent hours imagining how awesome it would feel to hold the polearm in his hands. How great it would be to be able to inflict serious damage from further out, beyond the reach of rending claws and snapping jaws.
No matter how the weapon turned out, it was guaranteed to be a considerable upgrade from the claw’s original form, which had cut his own hands nearly as badly as his enemy. But Edge had chosen the Forge due to its reputation for excellence. He had high hopes that the crafters had given the project their all and come up with something truly special.
One of the apprentices saw him coming and went running into the back. Not long after, Ander the smith walked out, carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle between his callused palms. Through the top, Edge could see a scabbard peeking out, and from the bottom, a length of wood so black that the word hardly did it justice.
Ander untied the cord holding the bundle together, then unwrapped it with a flourish, pride in his work clear in every crook of his posture.
Edge grinned from ear to ear as he took in the weapon cradled in the smith’s hands. The scabbard was made from yellow leather—some manner of serpent judging by the texture of the scales. The patterning was beautiful, the finish left dull instead of polished. Sunlight shining on it wouldn’t give away his position, and the color would blend in with most environments.
The shaft was thick and looked study enough to block a heavy blow. The densely spiraling grains were gorgeous, accentuated by a series of decorative etchings that ran all the way down its length. There was more leather wrapped around where his hands would go to improve his grip, and a metal cap on the end that could be planted into the ground.
Ander set the polearm down on the counter with an air of reverence, slapping at Edge’s hands when he reached out to grab it.
“Don’t spoil the moment, lad. Although I can’t blame you for being excited. This is one of the best pieces we’ve made in years. A modified naginata. Can’t beat the classics. The shaft is a little over three feet by default, and the blade is two in a half. She’s as sharp as a breath of winter air and as beautiful as she is deadly.
“Go on now. Bare the blade. Gently.” At the smith’s urging, Edge reached forward and removed the scabbard. It slid off the end of the naginata, accompanied by a ringing hum.
He let out an appreciative whistle as he ran his eyes across the jet-black blade, taking in the elegant contour of his new weapon. After working the reaver’s claw over with various skills, the crafters had altered the shape and drawn out the material’s latent properties, making the keratin harder and less brittle. The curve had been modified to maximize the pressure along the cutting edge, while leaving the tip straight enough to allow for a powerful thrust.
He had the sense that the midnight blade was sharper and denser than before. That it wouldn’t break unless he subjected it to incredible force. This is good enough to take out most beasts, even without a skill.
Edge picked up the shaft, relishing the weight of the weapon in his hands. The aura of lethality that the blade radiated. The balance was perfect, and the polearm felt natural in his arms. When he assumed a battle stance and imagined taking a swing, a shiver ran down his spine, like someone had walked over his grave.
This was a killing tool, ideal for facing big game in the field. It was a weapon deserving of fear of respect, and he was proud to call it his own.
“It’s beautiful.” Edge’s eyes drank in the sight of his new naginata.
“It’s better than beautiful.” The smith let out rumbling laugh. “It’s bloody fucking perfect.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Wise words lad, but you haven’t seen the best part.” At Ander’s urging, he handed the weapon back over. When the smith reached down to touch a bit of engraving that Edge had thought was ornamental, something incredible happened.
Before his disbelieving eyes, the wooden shaft shrank, collapsing from three feet to one within a matter of seconds. When Ander stroked it again, it grew, not coming to a stop until the black pole was over five feet long.
“One of our members just took her modification skill to rank-four. Combine it with some rare wood that we had imported from the frontier before the calamity, and you have an adjustable shaft. It will always work best at its natural length, but you can shrink it to make it easy to carry or extend it if you need to increase your reach. I should have charged you twice the price for the labor, but it was just too much fun not to give it our all.”
Edge wanted to give it a swing then and there, but there wasn’t enough room inside. The smith must have read his mind. Because the next thing he said was, “Come out back and show us what you’ve got.”
He followed the man through the Forge, heading through a door in the back that he hadn’t realized was there. It led to an interior courtyard, where dummies and posts of various lengths were piled up in the corners.
“Welcome to our testing range. Not everyone gets to see this. I’ll make an exception because I think you like that weapon even more than I do.” By now, more than a dozen individuals had made their way into the courtyard. More people than Edge had realized were working inside the Forge. Apparently, this was a show that they wanted to watch.
“Start over here.” Ander led Edge to the middle of the enclosure. Then he worked a wooden post into a slot in the floor that was clearly designed for that purpose. Once it was locked in place, the smith stepped back to give him some room. “Go ahead and swing it as hard as you can.”
He lifted the naginata above his right ear, gripping the shaft with his hands shoulder-width apart. He assumed his stance, squared his hips, and then brought the blade down at an angle, putting the full power of his newly upgraded body behind it.
The modified claw came down like the reaper’s scythe. It sheared through the post and kept right on going, completing the strike with no appreciable resistance.
“Now that is a work of art,” the smith said with a note of reverence. “Not you so much. Your technique is sloppy, but the blade will carry you until you’ve learned to master it. That post was meant to simulate the natural resistance of a stage-zero animal or uncored individual. It’s the softest wood we sell. Let’s try stage-one next.”
With that, he put another post in place. A darker wood with some manner of leather wrapped around the exterior. “Alright, lad. Give it a go.”
Edge waited until the smith stepped back and then gave it his best shot, marveling at how perfectly balanced the polearm felt in his hands. His technique was a little tighter this time, and he hit the post with a wicked chop. The blade stuck in the wood, but he was able to force it through with a push from his arms.
“So far, so good. Now for the real test. Stage-two.” Ander slid in a post of silvery wood that shimmered with a metallic sheen. By this point, Edge was growing more confident, vaguely aware that bets were being placed behind his back.
He took his stance and raised the blade. Then he gathered his strength and brought the naginata down in a vicious arc, with the full power of his body behind it.
It didn’t help at all.
With a hearty thwack, the blade hit the post and was stopped cold, almost rebounding back into Edge’s leg. He had to drop the weapon and hop out of the way, earning him a round of laughter from everyone watching.
To his profound embarrassment, the post wasn’t even dented. He picked up the polearm and gave it another go, judging his strength more carefully this time. While he didn’t lose control, he still couldn’t do more than leave the faintest of scratches along its length.
“Ok, Edge. Now use that slash skill everyone knows you have. Don’t worry, it should be enough to get through, even at rank-one.”
Trusting the smith to know his business, Edge raised the naginata for a third time, widened his stance, and took aim. Once the blade was sailing toward its target, he willed slash to activate.
As mana poured out of his core and into his arms, his swing abruptly sped up, multiplying his power along the way. The polearm went screaming for the post and caught it by the cutting edge. This time, he didn’t hold back, following through with everything he had.
To his delight, the blade cut through cleanly and went sailing out the other side. The top of the post slid down at an angle and came clattering to the floor half a heartbeat later. Everyone watching burst into applause, causing Edge to blush from the attention.
Ander walked over and clasped him on the back. “Now that’s what I call a blade.” After that, they wouldn’t let him leave without staying for dinner. An offer that he was happy to accept.
In the end, Edge was immensely glad that he had decided to join them. Not only was it a great chance to meet some of the most skilled crafters in town, it was a warm, happy scene. Full of light and love. Good company and good cheer.
Most of the people who worked at the Forge had known each other for years. Over time, they had formed a new family. At least for the duration of their stay on Ord.
Trapper’s crew had a similar vibe, but he hadn’t had the chance to hang out with them as a group just yet. It was a timely reminder that he could build a life for himself here. Find other people who were important to him and unwind from all the stress of violence that had become a part of his daily life.
While Edge needed to use Puppet Town as a base while he collected skills and cycled-up his core, the place was growing on him fast.
He left with a full heart and a full belly, looking forward to what the future would bring, both on and off the battlefield.
