[Iron Heart Sword]
[Grade: Elite]
[Attack Power: 100-120]
[Durability: 100/100]
[Weight: 320]
[A fierce weapon that demands attention on the battlefield. Its sharpness is unmatched, its shine is blinding, and its power is deadly. It was the weapon of choice for any brave warrior looking to make a statement in battle.]
[Skills:]
[Severing Strike: Dealt 400% of the user’s physical attack power to a single target. Ignore 50% defense when striking a wounded target.
Mana Cost: 120
Cooldown: 45 Seconds]
[User Restriction: Level 50 or higher.
Swordsman class or a similar one.]
Fokil’s eyes widened in wonder as he held the sword, admiring its craftsmanship. He ran his fingers along its length with reverence, feeling the skill and dedication imbued in every inch of the weapon.
“This is truly remarkable,” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with amazement. “I can sense the craftsmanship poured into this blade. It’s sure to be a powerful ally for you.”
Broken, too, felt a sense of satisfaction as he examined the sword. The 400% damage dealt in physical attack power was impressive enough, but the ability to ignore defense when striking a wounded target added another layer of utility. Despite its relatively high cooldown, Broken felt confident that he could manage its mana requirements effectively. While the weapon’s base attack power may not have been extraordinary, its overall stats were exceptional for a weapon of its grade.
“Put on your new gear quickly. The Warrior’s Call set likely comes with special effects or skills,” Fokil advised.
Following Fokil’s instructions, Broken swiftly donned the helmet and proceeded to equip each piece of armor, covering his entire body in the formidable black shining armor. Though he couldn’t see his reflection to admire the full ensemble, the firm patterning of the armor hugged his form, giving him a commanding presence. While he couldn’t fully appreciate the overall look of his armor set without a mirror, there was no denying the intimidating and captivating aura he exuded. He was a warrior, fully prepared for battle.
[The activation of the Warrior’s Call set triggered a powerful skill known as “Furious Last Stand.”]
[This unique skill could only be unleashed when wearing the complete Warrior’s Call set.] [Furious Last Stand (Conditional Active Skill)]
[When facing imminent danger with health plummeting below 20%, the skill surged, granting the user a sudden burst of courage and strength, boosting their stats by a whopping 30% for a brief but intense 20-second period.
Even after the initial burst, the user’s stats remained elevated by 10% for a full minute, offering a prolonged advantage in battle.
Cooldown: 1 Hour]
This skill could be a game-changer in dire situations, potentially tipping the scales between survival and defeat. But like all powerful abilities, it came with a cooldown period of one hour, adding a strategic element to its usage.
“So, what did you get?” Fokil inquired.
“It’s like a berserker-type skill. When my health drops below 20%, it boosts my stats by 30% for 20 seconds,” Broken explained.
“30%? That’s incredible. That skill alone makes the Warrior’s Call set worth its weight in gold. You’re truly fortunate, kid,” Fokil acknowledged.
Ivana’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she observed the conversation. “That’s a cool armor set, Broken,” she chimed in.
With his new armor set and sword in hand, Broken felt a surge of confidence. He was ready to explore the city in this impressive attire, the likes of which he had never worn before. Despite being a level 50 armor set, its Elite grade made it a valuable asset, even for players well beyond level 100.
“Would you like me to accompany you on a stroll through the city wearing that armor set?” Ivana suggested playfully.
“That’s a great idea, Ivana,” Broken replied, his grin widening at the thought of showcasing his new gear.
[Weight: 1780/1200]
The weight of the armor set draped over Broken’s body felt heavier than he anticipated. It slowed him down considerably, reducing his movement speed by a staggering 60%. It was like trying to sprint through mud, each step requiring tremendous effort.
It was only now that Broken realized the sheer bulk of his new armor set. Its weight was nearly double what he was allowed to, a consequence of its high-grade quality and level far surpassing his own. This sudden realization posed a significant problem for him, as he lumbered along like a snail, struggling to maintain even a semblance of his usual speed. Fokil sensed that it was time for Broken to depart from the smithy. “Hey, kid, it’s time to go. I’ve grown weary of seeing you linger here for weeks on end,” he urged.
Yet, Broken remained rooted in place, his mind racing as he pondered how to allocate his stats to cope with the excessive weight of the armor. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to Fokil that he lacked the necessary stats to handle such a low-level armor.
In Fokil’s mind, he interpreted Broken’s reluctance to leave as a sign of his attachment to the place. However, he knew he had to be firm, insisting that Broken depart, despite the evident struggle he faced.
With a determination, Fokil fixed Broken with a stern gaze, emphasizing the urgency of the situation. “I understand that you may have grown fond of this place, but you’re also a fighter. It’s time for you to leave and gather materials to craft the Moonvine Knuckles. Move quickly, kid!” he commanded.
Feeling the weight of Fokil’s words, Broken let out a heavy sigh. He knew deep down that Fokil was right. With sluggish steps, he began to shuffle away, attempting to mask his reduced speed with casual conversation.
“Well, it looks like I should be off for a bit. Uh, there’s some important business I need to attend to,” he mumbled slowly, each word accompanied by a laborious step.
“Why are you still lingering here then?” Fokil’s voice boomed. “Get going already!”
Ivana observed Broken’s struggle to move forward. Despite his weariness, his determination remained unyielding. Was he too hungry, perhaps?
“Wait, Broken!” she called out, hurrying over to grasp his wrist. “Let me lend you a hand. I’ll whip up some food for you.”
But, Broken lost his balance and stumbled, Ivana reaching out to catch him. Instead, he ended up falling into her arms. For a brief moment, they found themselves locked in an unexpected embrace, their faces inches apart. It was the closest Broken had ever been to Ivana, a normal NPC in the small town, yet her beauty surpassed that of most women he had encountered in
the real world.
As he found solace in her embrace, their eyes met, and a sense of calm washed over them, momentarily filling the room with serene tranquility.
“You’re exhausted,” she murmured softly. “You should rest first. Let me prepare some food
for you…”
He shook his head. “No, I’m fine,” he insisted. With a swift motion, he pulled himself upright again. “Thanks, Ivana.”
Resuming his slow pace, he continued on his way, leaving Fokil and Ivana puzzled by the
encounter.
“I think he wanted to show off?” Fokil mused.
Ivana simply giggled at the thought.
Once outside the Smithy, Broken breathed a sigh of relief as he removed his armor.
“I think it’s time to log out,” he declared.