Above the mage!

Chapter 449 Wet Fencing
After thinking about actively developing the [Adaptive] expertise, Gaode first went through several areas of improvement in his mind where he had already made progress:
Cold tolerance increased by 295%, water flow sensitivity increased by 36%, and oxygen uptake increased by 61%;

Increases pain tolerance by 100% (maximum value);

Improved the ability to see in the dark by 36% and improved the ability to resist strong light by 23%;

Physical injury recovery ability increased by 79.6%;

Your immunity to toxins increases by 100%, and your body's organs' ability to digest, metabolize and excrete various toxins increases by 100%.

The most powerful aspect of [Adaptation] is actually the various special bodies that evolve after the adaptability is fully accumulated.

It is obviously easier to fill up the evolution degree of the existing adaptation progress than to find a new adaptation direction and start from scratch.

Besides, everyone has some obsessive-compulsive disorder to a certain extent.

Looking at those improvement directions that have already made adaptation progress but have not yet been fully completed, how many people can resist the urge to push them to 100%?
The cold resistance adaptability has reached 295%.

This one is only 300% away from the 5% required for the next physical evolution.

It seems to be just one step away, but Gaode understands that making up this 5% is actually more difficult than starting from scratch, and much more difficult.

This is equivalent to improving the 11-meter time from 10 seconds to 15 seconds, which is actually several times or even dozens of times more difficult than improving it from 11 seconds to seconds.

Therefore, Gaode simply skipped this item.

The second pain tolerance adaptability has been filled up and cannot be increased any further.

The third one does have a lot of room for improvement, but the improvement of these two does not have much effect on combat power, so Gaode will skip it for the time being.

The last poison immunity has just broken through 100%, which is equivalent to starting from scratch to reach the 200% required for the intermediate amber body.

After considering it this way, the highest priority is naturally the ability to recover from physical injuries.

First, its progress is already very close to 100%.

Secondly, the ability to recover from physical injuries is not limited to combat, but can be applied in all aspects, and is definitely the top evolutionary direction.

After deciding on the idea, Gaode began to think about the development method.

If you want to [adaptively] improve your body's ability to recover from injuries, the method is very simple, which is to injure yourself.

Self-harm is the easiest way.

However, Gaode is somewhat reluctant to use this method.

He also thinks there should be a more cost-effective way.

Soon, he thought of the fencing field.

In this world of extraordinary powers, swordplay is generally seen as something that the lower-middle class use for self-defense or performance.

Therefore, there are actually not many public sword-fighting venues that specialize in teaching sword skills.

Instead, they are more often used for dangerous competitive swordplay and swordplay venues similar to underground black boxing. It can be said that they almost disregard safety and are for the purpose of performance and gambling.

Fencing matches in this type of fencing venue are usually of two types: wet (bleeding) or dry (no blood).

Wet racing is obviously more dangerous, injuries are common, and if you are unlucky, it is not uncommon to suffer lifelong disabilities.

But at the same time, because it is more dangerous, involves blood, and is more visually stimulating, wet fencing competitions are far more popular than dry fencing.

And Gaode's idea is to participate in the wet fencing competition.

Sword skills, which are useless to most mages, can greatly increase his combat power.

According to the swordsmanship instructor, in order to hone a swordsmanship that is truly practical and lethal, one must undergo sufficient actual combat training, and it must be the kind of actual combat that involves danger.

For example, in his usual sparring with his swordsmanship instructor, he had the backup of the instantly cast [Blade Guard +], so there was no chance of him getting hurt. So although it looked like he had practiced a lot, his actual combat experience was actually close to zero.

In that case, I will participate in the fencing competition in the sword hall as an ordinary person and forcibly restrict myself from using magic.

This way, you can hone your sword skills with the help of real combat and enhance your combat power and practical experience. At the same time, even if you are injured in a fencing match, you can rely on [Adaptation] to trigger the adaptation progress and continuously improve yourself.

Kill two birds with one stone, why not?
The iron gate fell down behind him with a loud bang.

The smell of rust mixed with hot sweat and the pungent smell of cheap gin hit me in the face, making my nose dry.

The not-so-big venue was filled with so many people that the turbid air seemed to be stagnant and the oxygen seemed to be insufficient.

Some people unbuttoned their collars, revealing the throbbing blue veins in their necks.

In the oxygen-deficient environment, everyone's eyes glowed red with excitement, just like piranhas waiting at the bottom of the river to bite dead flesh.

The current game is about to begin.

Two swordsmen were making final preparations in a corner.

The swordsman on the left is named Silver Throat, and there is a hideous horizontal scar on his Adam's apple, like a curled up white snake entwined on his pale skin, which is quite consistent with his nickname.

It is a miracle in itself that he could survive such an injury in such a vital part of his body.

And with such experience, he still dares to stand on the sword hall arena, which is enough to show his character and strength.

The same is true.

From the noisy discussions of the people around him, Gao De learned that the swordsman named Silver Throat was the most famous ace swordsman in this fencing venue and the popular swordsman they were betting on.

In a focus match three years ago, he was nearly killed when his throat was cut by his opponent's sword, but at the same time his sword pierced into his opponent's heart and he won the match.

Silverthroat's opponent in this match, the swordsman on the right, was a little inconspicuous. The only thing that impressed God was the tattoo on his forearm: a snake holding a dagger.

"The last game of the day, betting begins!"

The host's voice spread throughout the venue through the loudspeaker brass tubes, and the chips on the gambling table soon piled up into a small mountain.

The crisp sounds of silver dragon coins and gorse coins merged into one.

Gode ​​watched silently and did not place any bets. Firstly, he was not very interested in these things, and secondly, betting of this nature fell into a gray area in the laws of the Plantagenet dynasty.

He is a person who cares about his reputation and does not want to easily get involved in these gray areas.

Even if he followed suit and placed the bet, it would most likely not have any negative impact on him in his life, but what if?
In a place like the Plantagenet dynasty that advocates virtue, it is always a good idea to keep your resume "bright" and not leave room for others to exploit the situation.

Haven’t you seen how many celebrities in the past had their inappropriate remarks made online during their early days as amateurs dug up after they debuted and became famous?

The betting time was only a few minutes, and then the bell rang, the brightness of the magic crystal lamp suddenly increased, and the arena was illuminated palely.

The fencing competition officially began.

The swords used by the two were both steel swords provided by the sword hall. Their shapes, sizes, and weights varied according to personal preferences and habits, but the materials were the same.

This is to ensure "fairness" so that no one is at a disadvantage due to equipment.

Silverthroat's sword drew an arc first, but was avoided by his opponent by leaning sideways.

The opponent used a relatively rare rapier. The blade was light and it grazed Silverthroat's vest. The silver embroidery immediately burst open, revealing the dark and scarred skin underneath.

In this kind of competition, only cloth clothes are allowed.

At this moment, Silverthroat's vest was damaged, and it was obvious that the opponent had taken the lead.

A small number of people in the audience burst into wild cheers, with whistles and shouts one after another. They were obviously betting on an underdog and on Silver Throat's opponent.

But this is just the beginning.

The two men fought quickly, their steel swords collided, and dazzling sparks flew.

Silver Throat's long sword swung wildly, and each swing carried a tremendous force; while the opponent's rapier was tricky and flexible, looking for flaws in the defense.

Suddenly, the opponent made a thrust, and the rapier grazed Silverthroat's arm. Immediately a blood mark appeared, and red blood oozed out and dripped onto the floor of the ring.

But Silver Throat didn't even look at the wound. He just swept his opponent across, forcing him to retreat again and again. Then he took a step forward, and his long sword went straight to his opponent's abdomen like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue.

The opponent hurriedly raised his sword to block, but was half a beat too slow. Silver Throat's blade scratched his thigh, and blood gushed out instantly, spreading a large, glaring red patch on the white cloth.

The opponent felt pain and knelt on one knee, his rapier in his hand becoming a little unsteady.

Silver Throat showed no mercy and swung the sword again, this time directly cutting the opponent's shoulder, causing the flesh to roll up and blood to splatter, even on the face of the audience in the front row.

Instead of being frightened, the audience howled with excitement.

Silverthroat took advantage of the situation and kicked away the rapier in his opponent's hand, then put the sword against his throat.

An ace is always an ace.

Silverthroat won the final victory.

As the audience cheered, Silver Throat retracted his sword and breathed slightly, the scar on his Adam's apple rising and falling with his breathing.

After watching the game, Gao De walked quietly towards the waitress standing next to him.

"Do you want to sign up for the competition?" The waitress in black gauze looked at Gao De and confirmed.

Godd nodded.

"You come with me."

The waitress pushed open the rusty side door and walked through the long and narrow corridor. Gode smelled a pungent smell of medicine. A low groan came from the room on the left. An injured swordsman was receiving treatment.

"This way." The waitress stopped in front of the oak door at the end.

After knocking on the door, there was a fat man like a mountain of flesh in the room. He was reclining on a wide chair, playing with a heavy gold pocket watch in his right hand. He should be a role similar to the "manager" or "supervisor" of the sword hall.

"This gentleman wants to sign up for the competition." The waitress pointed at Gao De and introduced him.

"Oh?" The fat man raised his eyebrows and sat up straight. He did not ask about Gao De's background, but snapped his fingers and immediately explained the rules to Gao De, "Let's talk about the rules first."

"Let me be frank with you. If you sign up for the competition, you will need to sign a waiver before you participate:
Whether you get injured or suffer other more serious consequences during the competition, you will bear all the consequences by yourself. This has nothing to do with our sword hall. You will pay for the medical expenses yourself. If you get stabbed in the heart, at most, we will give you a shroud for free."

"Also, we only practice wet fencing here—no protective gear, no chain mail, and sharp blades."

"In addition, the swords used must also be selected from the swords provided by our sword hall."

"We also arrange the opponents."

"But it's up to you to decide when to participate in the competition."

"As for the reward, for a swordsman like you who is not famous and is participating in the competition for the first time, the reward for one match is 10 Plantagenet coins. If you win, you will get an additional 5 Plantagenet coins."

"No problem." Goder nodded.

After saying this, the fat supervisor's face darkened slightly, and he reminded him, "There is one more thing you should pay attention to. Swordsmen participating in the competition are not allowed to place bets on their own. Betting on winning or losing is not allowed. If we find out, you may not be able to bear the consequences."

"I see."

The entire registration process went very smoothly, without too much inspection, and the only requirement was to sign the waiver agreement.

This is because a sword hall with a very high casualty rate like this is actually extremely short of swordsmen. In this case, they would naturally be very happy if someone could sign up for the competition.

Because every time a game is held, they can make huge profits from it.

After signing the waiver agreement, Gaode immediately requested to arrange for himself to participate in the competition as soon as possible.

The chief officer was naturally eager to have such an "active" player, because today's competition was over. He flipped through the booklet and arranged the first game in the sword hall for Gao De tomorrow.

This kind of opening match is a warm-up match and is perfect for swordsmen like Gao De who have just entered the sword hall and have no fame yet.

"By the way, you need to give yourself a nickname so that we can use it for publicity." When Gao De was about to leave, the fat supervisor remembered something else.

“Let’s just call it the mountain.”

"The winner of this match is 'The Mountain'! This reckless new swordsman is as resolute as a mountain, breaking the fangs of a poisonous snake alive!"

The host's sharp and provocative voice tore through the air through the amplified brass tubes, causing an echo in the closed venue.

The audience who placed their chips on the "mountain" were now cheering deafeningly.

In the pale light of the magic crystal lamp, Gao De stood with his sword in hand. The blood seeping from between his fingers dripped down the hilt and formed a small pool of blood on the floor.

The clothes on his body had long been in tatters. The entire piece of cloth on his left shoulder had been cut off, revealing a deep wound where the fascia was visible. The skin and flesh were rolled up, and the light blue blood vessels trembled slightly with his breathing.

There were criss-crossing sword marks on the chest and abdomen, forming a terrifying web-like pattern. Blood was flowing out along these grooves, forming thick blood scabs.

The base of his right hand was cracked deep down to the bone, and his left arm from the elbow down was covered with small wounds and his skin was torn into pieces.

In comparison, his opponent's injuries seemed to be much less serious than his.

He was a middle-aged man, nicknamed Viper, who was slumped on the edge of the ring.

The wound on his right shoulder was deep into the muscle, and blood was dripping down his arm to the ground. Compared with Gao De's almost shattered state, it did seem like a "light injury".

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Viper looked at Gao De's still bleeding wound, and uttered a sentence with his Adam's apple rolling. His tone was both convinced and unwilling, which was very contradictory.

Gao De smiled and did not answer Viper's question.

If he used magic, all the swordsmen in the gym combined would not be his match.

But if we just compete in swordsmanship, Gaode actually has no advantage.

He studied swordsmanship systematically for half a year with a swordsmanship instructor at Collingwood Martial Arts School.

Because of the mage's precise perception of the body and slight talent, his learning results, according to the swordsmanship instructor, have already reached the entry level.

But the swordsmen who dare to sign up for this extremely dangerous fencing competition to make a living have all practiced swordplay for more than ten years and have at least extremely rich practical experience compared to him.

Even though he was just a swordsman in the warm-up match, his swordsmanship was far better than his.

For example, the poisonous snake in front of us is like this.

At the beginning of the match, every strike of Viper's sword was precise and ruthless, and each move went straight to the vital points, suppressing him to the point where he had almost no power to fight back.

In this case, it is normal for him to lose.

But in the end, the winner was Gaode.

Gao De did not use any magic to cheat. The reason why he was able to win was all because of three words: "Don't care about your life."

Because the purpose of his participation in the wet fencing competition was to improve his adaptation progress in recovering from injuries, increasing his sword skills and practical experience was secondary.

Therefore, he doesn't mind getting injured during the game.

As long as it wasn't a vital part, he would dare to exchange injury for injury, and with the blessing of the [Body of Dharma Ninja], his tolerance for pain had reached an inhuman level.

Even though he was covered in blood, he didn't even frown, and his attacks were not affected at all, as if he was a puppet without any sense of pain.

With this almost crazy style of play, even though Viper had the advantage in the situation, as the fight went on, Gaode slowly gained the upper hand.

Until the end, the venomous snake revealed a flaw and was slashed on the arm by Gaode's sword. In pain, the weapon fell out of his hand and he had to admit defeat.

(End of this chapter)