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Chapter 10: Evil Landlord Orum
🕑 Added 2025-10-20 03:21:21 +0000 UTCOrum's understanding of "combat techniques" came entirely from fragments of casual village gossip.
From these scattered and superficial pieces of information, Orum barely cobbled together a concept: this was a type of advanced combat skill that allowed the body to unleash extreme killing power in an instant, even surpassing its own limits to accomplish feats ordinary people couldn't imagine.
Corresponding to the high returns was the extremely expensive learning cost of combat techniques.
If someone wanted to learn combat techniques from scratch, they had to spend big money hiring famous instructors while supplementing with expensive medicinal herbs to temper the body, continuing for over ten years.
All these expenses simply weren't something bottom-tier poor people could afford.
In Orum's impression, only the children of lords were qualified to invest such tremendous resources in learning combat techniques.
In his eighteen years of memories, Orum had never personally witnessed anyone demonstrating combat techniques.
But today, the drow elf Dorian's Combat Technique: Thrust was like lightning tearing through darkness, leaving an indelible impression on Orum's heart.
"That fast?" This was the last thought that floated through Orum's mind before his consciousness cut out.
...
"Pfft—"
Dorian smoothly withdrew his sword. Watching Orum collapse to the ground before him, lifeless and silent, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
He truly had mastered a combat technique and practiced it to proficiency. Mastering a combat technique was one of the qualifications for becoming a professional!
In other words, Dorian was already a quasi-professional, even half a step into being a professional! Common folks naturally stood no chance against him.
When Dorian threw out the money pouch, he hadn't really intended to bribe Orum. It was just to divert Orum's attention so he could sneak attack him.
Pressing his still-bleeding arm, Dorian's cheek twitched. Combat techniques required the muscles of the entire body to exert force simultaneously, naturally pulling at the wound. That instant of tearing pain felt as intense as having his arm ripped off.
Fortunately, just a few more steps and he could enter the portal...
Dorian had just taken three steps when his deep blue pupils suddenly constricted.
He heard a sound that shouldn't be there—a horrifying sound of an axe scraping against the ground, coming from behind him.
That sound was like an evil ghost crawling up from the Nine Hells. A chill instantly shot up Dorian's spine, straight to his skull!
Dorian whipped his head around!
In his field of vision, a blood-dripping figure stood right behind him, white vapor emerging from his open mouth. The wound on his forehead had somehow already healed, but blood stains obscured his entire face. Dorian couldn't make out his expression at all.
"Still alive after having his skull pierced? What monster-level vitality is this?" Looking at the ghostly, bizarre scene before him, Dorian's heart was utterly shocked.
The next moment, a massive axe shadow carrying howling wind came chopping viciously toward Dorian's face! This heavy strike was filled with tremendous force, even surpassing the half-orc Gal's full-power strike!
Dorian extended his right arm, blocking horizontally with his sword. Hidden skill lay within the blade. He'd already completed calculations in his mind—as long as he deflected and neutralized this axe blow, he could follow through with a counterstrike and chop off Orum's head!
"BOOM—"
The next instant, the drow elf's lithe body was like a blade of grass, heavily swatted to the ground by the great axe.
...
Looking at the longsword that had been sent flying, Dorian stood there completely stunned.
Who am I? Where am I?
Why am I on the ground?!
One second later, feeling the intense pain coming from his entire body, Dorian snapped awake as if from a dream, realizing he'd actually been chopped down to the ground.
"How can his strength possibly be this great?!"
Dorian looked down in disbelief to see embedded in his chest armor a double-handed great axe shimmering with seven-colored flowing light.
Orum's entire body was enveloped by hundreds of colorful rays of light. Within each ray of light, a thumb-sized figure with thin wings danced gracefully!
These rays of light were like a magical storm surrounding Orum. Every single moment, they infused Orum's body with surging energy, comprehensively increasing Orum's strength, agility, constitution, perception, intelligence, charisma, and magic power without exception!
Moreover, this axe strike carried seven different magical effects: thunder, flame, frost, dark erosion, wind blade, gravity, and silence. At this moment, these violent magical powers were tearing through the chainmail, spreading and ravaging through Dorian's chest cavity like venomous snakes!
"This is... forest sprite magic?" A thunderclap seemed to sound in Dorian's mind.
"This power doesn't belong to you."
"You're actually a sprite knight... with such a powerful patron!"
Saying this, Dorian's face instantly twisted.
In his view, Orum's "resurrection from death" and the sprite power surrounding his body were obviously help granted by his patron.
In other words, the only reason Dorian was defeated was because Orum had backing!
"I won't accept this—"
"Eternal Mistress of the Dark Abyss,"
"Immortal Queen upon the Spider Throne!"
In his dying fury, Dorian's eyes turned from deep blue to blood red. The skin exposed on his body suddenly bulged and writhed violently, as if countless long-legged spiders were crawling beneath his skin. His entire being was twisting and deforming toward the image of a spider monster.
"Holy crap, he's transforming!"
Seeing such a horrifying sight, Orum quickly followed up with another axe strike, chopping off Dorian's head.
The instant Dorian died, all the aberrations on his body completely halted, and he reverted to looking like an ordinary drow elf.
His final transformation was interrupted by Orum just like that.
"Good thing I could interrupt it, otherwise who knows what would've popped out." Orum looked at the headless corpse before him, quietly wiping away cold sweat.
The one-minute duration of the "Forest Sprite's Blessing" quickly passed. The phantom images of the sprites flew lightly around Orum in a graceful fairy dance as their farewell, their figures gradually fading until they disappeared.
Orum bowed to the sprites, thanking them for assisting him in battle:
"Thank you. You helped tremendously."
Just now, Orum had passively used the magical beast organ Ancient Tree Heart, consuming one use of its healing ability, then activated the "Forest Sprite's Blessing," fully buffing himself. That's how he knocked Dorian down with one axe strike.
Fortunately, Dorian never anticipated he had "resurrection" ability. Caught completely off guard, he also misjudged Orum's strength. That's why he was so easily defeated.
If Dorian had gotten back up and fought again, Orum would probably still win, but it definitely would've been much more troublesome.
Watching the last sprite phantom dissipate into the air, Orum suddenly recalled Dorian's dying words and fell into thought.
"The title 'Sprite Knight' actually sounds pretty good?"
With the excuse of a "patron," no matter how many miraculous abilities appeared on Orum's body, they could all be explained away.
...
When killing Dorian, Orum's hands were actually shaking a bit.
After all, except for darker skin and pointier ears, Dorian's other physical features were identical to a human's. Chopping off the head of someone like this still made Orum feel a bit queasy.
But when he thought about how Dorian's head was worth 100 gold coins, equivalent to 100 ewes or 30 dairy cows, Orum's bad mood dispersed like clouds under sunlight, swept clean in the blink of an eye.
"Thank you so much, Boss Dorian. You're a great boss I'll never forget for the rest of my life."
After completing his mental construction, Orum began cleaning up the battlefield.
As a bandit gang leader and quasi-professional, Dorian was basically a regional mini-boss in game terms. The armor, weapons, and pack on his body, from head to toe, he was a walking treasure trove.
Dorian's weapon was a snow-patterned steel sword. Orum couldn't judge the exact price, but it definitely had to be more valuable than the half-orc great axe in his hand.
After being violently chopped by the great axe, the snow-patterned steel sword hadn't left even a single notch, demonstrating its excellent craftsmanship and superior materials.
Dorian wore chainmail on his upper body. This type of lightweight armor guaranteed a swordsman's flexibility without overly restricting movement, allowing the sword wielder to fully leverage superior technical advantages.
Right now, Dorian's chainmail had been pierced through by the great axe, leaving a huge gap with profuse filthy blood soaking through it. When Orum lifted it, blood droplets continuously dripped down.
Dorian wore leg guards on his lower body, no shin armor, only deerskin boots convenient for moving through the forest.
Orum picked up Dorian's pouch. The heavy gold coins inside immediately dazzled his eyes.
"Thirty, forty, fifty... seventy-eight gold coins?!"
Orum's breathing immediately became heavy. The pouch in his hand seemed to become incredibly hot in an instant.
"I don't even dare imagine how amazing it would be to take this money back to the village, buy an estate, and become a landlord!"
Calm down, Orum. You're someone who's going to accomplish great things. Don't let small farmer mentality limit your development... but being a landlord really would be so satisfying!
After weighing things internally, Orum still dismissed this extremely feudal and extravagant idea of buying an estate. After all, even with money, you shouldn't squander it like that.
Then... after going back, buying a dragonborn maid should be fine, right?
No, one's not enough. Two!
