Author Artemis
patreon
Chapter 035 - Damage
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 20:47:47 +0000 UTCAt the moment James felt the impact of his hammer strike, he also felt a strange sensation and heard an ominous cracking sound.
The shaft of the hammer broke.
He had been holding it near the end of the pick-axe shaft to which he had affixed the war hammer head and it snapped somewhat in the middle, leaving a short length of splintered wood.
The mole monster, meanwhile, took an exceptionally heavy [Hammer Strike] to the shoulder. Although its fur could mitigate some momentum from a blunt strike, the sheer mass of the war hammer was too much to resist. In addition to the blunt force trauma inflicted on its soft tissues, the strike utterly shattered the shoulder joint of its left foreleg, its clavicle, all the ribs on its left side, and fractured its spine in multiple places.
It squealed and attempted to thrash around, which then caused the fractured ribs to pierce its left lung. The thrashing also further damaged its spine, causing paralysis from that point down. With a ruined left shoulder, the left foreleg fell limp, claws scraping down the edge of the Smith’s tower shield. The Smith was currently reaching around that edge of the tower shield, and the monster’s razor sharp claw scraped down the helmet face, shrieking against the metal and bouncing over the metal grate protecting James’ eyes before continuing down his breastplate and metal skirt before falling limp against the cavern floor between James’ legs.
[Smith] Skill [Sound Resistance] has reached level 3.
[Smith] Skill [Nerves of Steel] has been acquired.
James nearly tripped over the monster’s leg as he retreated behind his shield again. Peaking over the top of his shield, he found the monster had, by this point, stopped thrashing around and was now squealing constantly, trying to prop itself up on its one remaining good leg.
After a moment’s observation, the Smith realized that the monster was severely wounded, and three of its legs were limp, not even quivering. Without a hammer, he couldn’t strike again, but it was unlikely the monster could rush him again.
So he tipped his iron shield forward and let it fall on the monster.
The heavy iron block fell, pinning down the mole monster even further. Now unable to even crawl, its remaining good paw scrabbled fruitlessly against the cavern floor.
Or so he thought, until James took a second look and saw that the mole monsters’ sharp claws were effortlessly cutting through the hard packed dirt and stone floor.
With the shield pinning down the monster spraying blood from its mouth as it squealed, the son of two [Brawler]s approached from the monster’s left side and stabbed the splintered end of his war hammer shaft into the monster’s eyes, twisting viciously to do as much damage as possible as he blinded it.
James finally went for the eyes.
Anything can be a weapon if you’re holding it right.
Suddenly, James felt the accumulated fatigue from the fight wash over him and leave pain in its wake. His left arm throbbed and trembled and his ears rang for the first time since he had taken his [Smith] class. The soles of his feet hurt, and looking down he saw blood smeared into the ground from where he must have scraped his feet resisting the monster’s tackle.
And the mole monster continued to shriek and squeal.
James staggered back inside the wards and dropped the bloody wooden stake in his hand, then bent awkwardly and picked up his trusty Green Iron Hammer.
Then he went back and hammered at the monster’s head, keeping well away from its good leg, until well after it went still and blood oozed all over the cavern floor.
James fell to his knees in the pool of blood, panting heavily, disregarding the bloody stench of the dead monster as his body cried out for air in his lungs. His entire body felt sore.
“I… told you…” James panted, “…I would… kill you… too…”
Later, having recovered his shield, returned to the safety of the wards, and removed his armor, James took stock of the outcome of the fight.
One mole monster killed. Corpse: over there.
One war hammer: broken. The hammer head itself was perfectly fine and even from a distance, James could see the damage just one strike had done to the monster. Near half its left side was caved in from where the hammer had struck before the head bounced off and fell to the ground nearby. James had picked it up and brought it back to his camp where it now sat next to his forge.
[Appraisal]: Warhammer, Quality: Very Low, Durability: Broken
The Smith was mildly interested that [Appraisal] returned “Broken” in regards to the war hammer. Broken mining tools back in the slave camp hadn’t done that. Perhaps it was because only the shaft had broken, and the shaft wasn’t forged material.
In any case, while the war hammer had done a lot of damage, it was hard to call it a success.
[Appraisal]: Bucket Helmet, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 13/15
[Appraisal]: Breastplate, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 10/12
[Appraisal]: Armored Skirt, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 1/5
[Appraisal]: Greaves, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 10/10
[Appraisal]: Cuisses, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 10/10
[Appraisal]: Pauldron, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 2/9
[Appraisal]: Tower Shield, Quality: Very Low, Durability: 19/20
James fingered the deep scratches in his helmet and breast plate. They had certainly saved him from grievous wounds during the fight when the monster’s claws had gotten around his shield. Same for the armored skirt, but having been forged thinner to reduce weight, the claws had nearly scratched entirely through the metal.
James shuddered and committed to seriously designing some kind of codpiece.
His half boots, greaves, and cuisses took no damage, but the lack of protection for the soles of his feet had left them scraped up. At some point, he knew not when for sure but suspected during the initial tackle from the monster, his feet had slid against the dirt and stone floor, scraping them. Not terribly, but enough that they were tender and walking on them hurt.
James was no [Tanner] or [Leatherworker], but he eyed the monster’s hide eagerly all the same.
Not least because of all the bruises that had quickly formed on his body. His left arm was almost entirely bruised, but especially so on his shoulder, where the pauldron had partially collapsed onto his shoulder when the tower shield slammed into it. The joint, thankfully, seemed fine, and James retained full range of motion, but it hurt.
James was fully committed to redesigning and re-forging his armor. First, to line it with monster hide or something so that his armor wouldn’t crash directly into his body when struck. Cushioning was much higher on his list of priorities now that he had a better sense of the penetrating power of the mole monster’s claws.
The second issue was weight.
James had barely been able to move weighed down by his armor and the tower shield, which had wound up being far sturdier than necessary. Even taking the monster’s tackle and frenzied slashes, the shield was barely damaged at all. And although the sheer weight of the shield had proven useful in pinning down the wounded monster, that wasn’t really the point of the shield.
James surveyed the gloomy cavern, confirming there were no more mole monsters. He was certain, though, that sooner or later more would appear.
And before they did, the Smith had work to do.
