Chapter 91: Classification

Misty Forest.

“Sasa.”

It was the faint sound of a breeze brushing past the tree crown.

The petiole trembled, and a yellowing leaf with curled, worm-eaten edges loosened from the branches and fell.

Spiraling downward.

Just like the millions of its kind on the ground, three seconds later, it would become part of the brownish-yellow carpet covering the entire forest.

Then, over four to five months, it would gradually wither and rot, eventually becoming a trace of nourishment for some patch of weeds.

Whoosh—

A gust of wind, unnatural yet fiercer and keener, interrupted this process.

The listless leaf, already abandoned by the tree’s renewal with its life force fading, was almost instantly shattered by the biting gale.

It turned into tiny, fragile fragments, drifting through the air like dust.

They landed on the rough, veined bark of an oak tree beside it, and on the tender, fresh stems and leaves on the ground.

They also followed the chaotic airflow and stuck to the black, messy, slender hair ends.

“Splash!”

He shook his body hard, shaking off the broken leaves and grass clippings from his clothes and hair.

Xia Nan turned his head and looked back.

As if some beast had charged through,

Among the dense grass and tough shrubs of the forest, there was abruptly a ten-foot-long crushed trail, oozing sap.

It looked like the effect was pretty good.

Yet Xia Nan could not help but frown, dissatisfied.

What he was practicing at this moment was, of course, the combat technique Barbarian Foggon had taught him two days ago—

【Fang Hunt】.

The effect shown that day had been outrageously over the top, almost collapsing the entire cave; dozens of goblins and their bugbear leader had been smashed apart like bowling pins.

But in fact, the core function of 【Fang Hunt】 was more akin to a “charge” or “movement” technique.

Whether any offensive attribute was added during the execution of the technique depended entirely on the user.

As for what he had seen then—the way it had spread down the corridor like an ice serpent, even carrying a hint of mental intimidation—

Xia Nan inclined to believe that was power innately attached to the barbarian class itself.

As for shattering monsters to pieces—perhaps 【Fang Hunt】 provided some bonus to speed and kinetic force, but ultimately, it came down to the barbarian’s absurdly tough body, comparable to metal or stone.

It was not quite to the point of feeling “tricked,” but after practicing for days, Xia Nan still could not shake the sense of a gap between the “seller’s display” and the “buyer’s reality.”

He had no idea when he would be able to reach that “lawn mower” level.

Fortunately, this was at least a real, genuinely useful combat technique.

Unlike many of the suspected skill books he had bought before at the town’s general store, with their awful training experience of “robbing Peter to pay Paul” and endlessly patching flaws.

Practicing 【Fang Hunt】, much like his earlier work with 【Whirl Slash】, gave him a steady sense of progress: step by step, a little improvement every day.

Even if problems arose during the process, once he spent time and energy to solve them and formed muscle memory, he would not repeat the same mistakes.

Actually learning it even gave him a faint sense of reassurance.

And the specific training methods, as well as some of the surface-level principles of the combat technique, became clearer as he grew familiar.

Through high-intensity training, he coordinated the muscle groups of his legs, waist, abdomen, and back, releasing the power stored in them within an extremely short time.

Adjust stride frequency, control speed…

Then pair it with a special breathing method to improve exertion technique and timing, shifting the skeletal center of mass into a range suited for triggering the combat technique.

To put it a little more simply, for example:

Like a winter wolf lying in ambush deep in the snow, fixing upon its prey and coiling to spring.

Exploding with full strength, it lashes forward like a sprung coil to bite.

The sword blade is its fangs and claws.

The barbarian came from a tribe in the Northern Territory highlands.

【Fang Hunt】 at the beginning had been created by imitating the hunting action of those powerful predators, then was combined with the physical advantages of humans, gradually developed and shaped by a certain gifted battle master.

According to Foggon, practicing in snow up to mid-calf or knee depth worked best.

But for now, they were deep in the continent’s heartland, lacking the right environment, so they had to make do.

Of course, besides all that, there was another crucial point for mastering 【Fang Hunt】:

Before each training session, Xia Nan had to, with the barbarian’s help, let a certain special chill released by him seep along his muscles and tendons into his body.

—Once he reached novice level, it would no longer be needed.

In his previous life, he had seen many professional athletes online using similar “ice baths,” but those were usually after intense exercise, for easing muscle fatigue and speeding up recovery.

This was nothing like that.

He did not understand the specific principles. After all, there was no precise testing equipment, and he was not an expert professor in the field. Being able to form a vague understanding of his training direction was already pretty good.

As for the rest…

He could only say:

Things in a fantasy world are better left unquestioned.

“Hoo…”

His chest rose and fell as he exhaled a long breath.

In the lingering white mist rushing out between his lips and teeth, one could faintly see tiny crystalline ice specks.

He reached out and touched his waist, abdomen, and thighs. His skin temperature had returned to normal.

Knowing the chill was spent and further practice would yield little effect,

Xia Nan turned and walked toward the camp.

He needed to find the barbarian to recharge himself again.

……

……

The cold wind cut to the bone. The whistling snow-grit was like tens of thousands of blades, scraping at the man’s rough, tough skin.

In the gap between ice-crusted rocks, charred firewood glowed faintly; the last of the pine resin burned away, turning to ash and melting into snow dust.

Pale broken bones pierced through the thick animal hide coat; his mouth was full of a strong, rust-like stench of blood.

“They are still here.”

From the toppled totem entwined with thorns, in the dim white light, an old, aged phantom figure condensed.

“Bite the frost, and death will not descend.”

“Chieftain…” The rugged man slumped in a blood pool murmured hoarsely. The wolf skin cloak he wore was already soaked scarlet.

“Let ash be born as snow. The heroic spirits of the ancestors watch over you from the standing stones, my child.”

Bony, mycelium-nurturing fingertips glowed like winter light through cloud, piercing his leather clothing and gently tapping his chest.

“Live on, carrying the name of the Frost Throat Clan.”

“Foggon.”

……

Crackle!

Tree fibers burst sharply under the flame’s scorch, making a sudden sound.

A barely perceptible ripple rose in Foggon’s ice-blue eyes, cold as a frozen lake.

He lifted his head and looked toward the edge of the camp.

The bushes swayed, and a figure with dual swords on his back was tugging at the thorn bushes around him, struggling a bit to break free.

Tightening the cloth bag hanging at his waist, Xia Nan greeted him and walked into the camp.

The barbarian before him was the same as ever.

Firelight reflected in his eyes; he made no extra movements and uttered no sound.

He simply sat by the campfire like a block of ice.

Xia Nan was used to it. Two days of interaction had given him a rough impression of this powerful high-level professional at his side.

Honestly, if not for that strongly indicative animal hide outfit and the tribe-flavored surname,

He would never have thought this man was a barbarian.

In the eyes of the world, such races symbolizing the primitive and rough, wielding a class that drew power from rage and nature, had always been entangled with words like “reckless,” “straightforward,” and “brutish.”

Yet the Foggon beside him now seemed like a block of ice-bound stone containing rage, suppressing all heat and restlessness beneath the bitter cold.

And if one day the flames blazed up and melted that thick ice, then the terrible fury beneath, hot enough to smelt metal and rock, would once again appear in the mortal realm.

“Finished?”

The deep, heavy voice came from ahead.

Surprised that he had taken the initiative to speak, Xia Nan quickly swallowed the hot water in his mouth.

He took a deep breath, exhaled a puff of cold air, and pointed to the ever-fainter ice crystals in the air.

“Yeah, used up.”

Then came the classic silence.

He had started the conversation, but as soon as Xia Nan responded, he said nothing more.

It made Xia Nan feel awkward.

But he was used to that too.

He knew the man was not failing to hear him, nor pretending he didn’t want to answer; it was simply his personality.

At least, whenever Xia Nan asked him questions about combat techniques these last two days, Foggon taught him very carefully.

Not that he answered everything, but he would, in the end, always help Xia Nan find the sticking point through his actions and solve it easily.

From beginning to end, calm and taciturn, as if all his fury was smothered under the frost he emanated.

Having trained hard around the camp all day and planning to rest a bit,

Xia Nan was in no hurry to have him replenish the chill.

He simply drew the Decapitation Long Sword to patiently maintain it, and, with some hesitation and doubt, tentatively asked:

“You’ve seen my 【Whirl Slash】 before… Which class should it belong to?”

On the Aifala Continent, the conditions for obtaining a class level were:

Master three combat techniques corresponding to the class, and bring one of them to “mastery” level.

With his predecessor’s foundation and the potential bonuses from the system interface, Xia Nan had already raised 【Whirl Slash】 to max level.

Which meant he only needed to learn two more combat techniques to complete his promotion.

What troubled him was that, to this day, he still had not figured out the exact category of 【Whirl Slash】.

So he could only hope that Foggon, whose strength and experience far surpassed ordinary class holders, could help answer this problem.

But unexpectedly,

Foggon only shook his head slightly.

“Very hard to say.”

The number of combat techniques in this world was greater than the snowflakes scattered in a blizzard.

Even those “legendary” figures standing atop the pyramid of the mortal realm could not possibly identify the affiliation of every single combat technique.

Especially for popular classes such as “warrior” or “rogue,” whose techniques were countless.

—Even the Adventurer Association itself continued, year after year, to collect and update large numbers of combat techniques.

Furthermore, because different branches of each association sat in different geographical locations, the commonly listed techniques also varied noticeably. For example:

The Adventurer Association in Barracuda Bay collected more techniques suited for underwater combat and ranged attacks.

While the branch in Rock Shadow City, located in the Underdark, held a great many techniques suited for use in cramped terrain.

In such a situation, all Foggon could do, based on the traits of 【Whirl Slash】, was to judge that it belonged to some melee-type basic class.

Perhaps sensing the disappointment in Xia Nan’s eyes,

The barbarian glanced up at the sky, then suddenly rose to his feet.

He turned and left the camp.

“Follow.”

The dull voice came.

Xia Nan quickly followed.

……

【Fang Hunt】

Though it originated from the highland tribes, the technique itself did not rely on “rage,” the core strength of barbarians.

It was merely the purest physical technique forged by a harsh natural environment.

Thus, like the overlap of two circles,

It simultaneously belonged to two basic classes:

【Warrior】 and 【Barbarian】.

This was one of the reasons why Foggon, even without being able to confirm the class of 【Whirl Slash】, still decided to teach 【Fang Hunt】 to Xia Nan.

And on the other hand, more importantly,

What convinced him that Xia Nan did not need to worry about choosing the wrong type of combat technique and having to start over from scratch

Was…

Creak.

A fallen tree branch lying on the meadow was crushed under a descending leather boot, letting out a crisp snap.

Xia Nan looked at the goblin cave before him, reeking with stench and disturbingly familiar in shape and appearance.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

“Again?”

He was not truly resistant in his heart.

He had already practiced 【Fang Hunt】 in empty air for two days and had basically learned the power-exertion mechanics.

Judging from what he remembered of a barbarian’s style, it was indeed time to accelerate proficiency through real combat.

After all, Foggon’s time was limited; being a bit aggressive was normal.

But what he had not expected was that

This time Foggon’s actions were completely different from before.

Not only did he not withdraw his aura in advance, he let the immense pressure of a high-level professional spread freely through the air.

He even took the lead, walking at the front, guiding Xia Nan all the way into the cave.

Still in the corridor near the entrance, Xia Nan already heard the panicked, terrified screams from the goblins deeper inside, who had sensed unwelcome intruders.

Then,

Awoo—

A long, piercing wolf howl, accompanied by icy wind, echoed between the stone walls.

Xia Nan felt goosebumps all over.

At the same time, the shrill, chaotic cries seemed swallowed by the wolf howl, vanishing without a trace.

By the time the two of them walked into the open chamber deep in the cave, nearly thirty goblins were sprawled everywhere, eyes rolled back, lying unconscious on the ground.

In the whole area, only one bugbear that looked just of age remained, clutching a nail hammer in its hand, shivering and curled up in the corner of the cave.

Xia Nan’s expression turned odd.

On the face of this blood-drinking, savage monster, who had killed countless low-level adventurers and whose nature was vile, he actually saw deep fear.

Foggon stopped, casually picked up a club from a goblin at his feet.

A layer of frost coated its surface.

He gave it a light toss toward the bugbear.

Bang—

Ice crystals mixed with stone shards burst in an instant in the dim cave.

The wooden club embedded itself firmly into the rock wall.

And the bugbear’s right hand, the one gripping its weapon, was severed cleanly at the root and fell to the ground.

The force was controlled with perfect precision, causing it no other injuries.

He had even considerately sealed the wound with frost for Xia Nan, to prevent excessive blood loss from weakening its combat power during training.

“Go.”

He said so.