Above the mage

Chapter 449 Wet Fencing

After having the idea of ​​proactively developing the "adaptive" expertise, Gaode first briefly reviewed in his mind several areas for improvement where he had already made progress in adaptation:

Cold resistance increased by 295%, sensitivity to water flow increased by 36%, and oxygen uptake increased by 61%.

Increases pain tolerance by 100% (maximum value).

Improves vision in the dark by 36% and resistance to bright light by 23%;

The body's ability to recover from injuries increased by 79.6%;

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

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

It is obviously easier to maximize the evolutionary progress of existing adaptations than to find a new direction of adaptation and start from scratch.

Besides, how should I put it... most people have some degree of obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

Looking at those improvement paths that have already been adapted to but not yet fully developed, how many people can resist the urge to grind them to 100%?

Its cold resistance adaptability has reached 295%.

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

It may seem like just a small difference, but Gaode understands that making up that 5% is actually much harder than starting from scratch.

This is equivalent to improving the 100-meter time from 11 seconds to 10 seconds, which is actually several times or even dozens of times more difficult than improving it from 15 seconds to 11 seconds.

Therefore, Gaode Maps simply skipped this one.

The second pain tolerance fitness level has been maxed out and cannot be increased further.

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

The last stat, poison immunity, has just broken through 100%, meaning it's essentially starting from zero to reach the 200% required for the intermediate Azure Body.

Considering all this, the highest priority is naturally to adapt to the body's ability to recover from injuries.

Firstly, its progress was already close to 100%.

Secondly, the ability to recover from physical injuries is not limited to combat; it can be applied to all aspects of life, making it an absolute top-tier evolutionary direction.

After setting the direction, Gaode began to consider development methods.

To improve your body's ability to recover from injuries through "adaptive" methods, the method is quite simple: create injuries for yourself.

Self-harm is the simplest way.

However, Gaode Maps is somewhat hesitant to use this method.

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

Soon, he thought of the fencing arena.

In this world of extraordinary power, swordsmanship is generally regarded as something used by the lower and middle classes for self-defense or performance.

Therefore, there are actually not many open sword training venues that specialize in teaching sword skills.

Instead, these are more often used for dangerous competitive swordplay, similar to underground boxing, with safety almost disregarded and the purpose being performance and gambling.

Fencing matches in these fencing venues are typically of two types: wet (with blood) or dry (without blood).

Wet racing is significantly more dangerous; injuries are commonplace, and it's not uncommon for the unlucky to end up with a lifelong disability.

However, because it is more dangerous and involves bloodshed, and is more visually stimulating, wet fencing is far more popular than dry fencing.

Gao De's idea was to participate in wet fencing competitions.

Swordsmanship that is useless to most mages can greatly increase his combat power.

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

For example, his usual sparring with his swordsmanship instructor, because of the instantaneous 【Blade Protection+】 as a backup, there was no way he could get injured. So it seemed like he had practiced a lot, but in reality, his actual combat experience was still almost zero.

Since that's the case, then I'll participate in the fencing competition at the sword club as an ordinary person and forcibly restrict myself from using magic.

This allows one to hone their swordsmanship through real, bloody combat, enhancing their combat strength and practical experience. Furthermore, even if injured in a fencing competition, one can rely on the "Adaptive" ability to trigger the adaptation process and continuously improve themselves.

Why not kill two birds with one stone?

The iron gate slammed down behind them.

The smell of rust mixed with the odor of hot sweat and the pungent smell of cheap gin hit you, making your nasal passages feel dry.

The not-so-large venue was so crowded that the air seemed stagnant and there wasn't enough oxygen.

Someone loosened their collar, revealing throbbing veins in their neck.

In the oxygen-deprived environment, everyone's eyes gleamed with an excited red light, much like piranhas waiting to tear apart carrion at the bottom of the river.

The match is about to begin.

Two swordsmen were making their final preparations in the corner.

The swordsman on the left is named Silverthroat. He has a hideous horizontal scar on his Adam's apple, which looks like a coiled white snake perched on his pale skin, which is quite fitting for his nickname.

To survive such a wound to such a vital area is already a miracle in itself.

Having had such an experience, the fact that he still dares to stand on the sword hall's arena today is enough to demonstrate his character and strength.

The same is true.

From the noisy discussions around him, Gao De learned that the swordsman named Silver Throat was the most famous ace swordsman in the sword fighting arena and the most popular swordsman for them to bet on.

Three years ago, in a high-profile match, he was nearly killed when his opponent's sword slashed his throat. However, at the same time, his own sword pierced his opponent's heart, allowing him to win the match.

Silver Throat's opponent in this match, the swordsman on the right, was rather unremarkable. The only thing that impressed Gao De was the tattoo on his forearm: a snake holding a dagger.

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

The host's voice was amplified through the brass pipes, and the chips on the gambling table quickly piled up into a small mountain.

The crisp sound of the silver dragon coin and the golden bird coin rang out in unison.

Gao De watched silently without placing any bets. Firstly, he wasn't particularly interested in these kinds of bets, and secondly, betting of this nature fell into a gray area under the laws of the Golden Flower Dynasty.

He was a man who cared about his reputation and didn't want to easily get involved in these gray areas.

Even if he bets along, it's highly unlikely to have any negative impact on him in his lifetime, but what if it does?

In a place like the Plantagenet dynasty, which values ​​virtue, it's always wise to keep your resume "clean" and not give others any reason to criticize you.

Have you not seen how many celebrities in the past had their inappropriate remarks made online during their early days as ordinary people dug up after they debuted and became famous?

The betting period lasted only a few minutes. Then the bell rang, and the brightness of the magic crystal lamps suddenly increased, illuminating the arena in a stark white light.

The fencing match has officially begun.

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

This is to ensure "fairness" and prevent anyone from being at a disadvantage due to equipment.

Silver Throat's longsword first drew an arc, but his opponent dodged it by sidestepping.

The opponent used a relatively rare rapier, its blade light and nimble, which grazed Silver Throat's vest, causing the silver embroidery to burst open and revealing the dark, scarred skin beneath.

This type of competition requires that only cloth clothing be worn.

With Silver Throat's vest now damaged, it's clear that the opponent has gained the upper hand.

A small group of people in the stands erupted in enthusiastic cheers, whistles, and shouts, clearly betting on an upset and placing bets on Silverthroat's opponent.

But this is just the beginning.

The two quickly engaged in combat, their steel swords clashing and sparks flying.

Silver Throat's longsword moved with wide, sweeping strokes, each strike carrying immense force.

The opponent's rapier, on the other hand, was cunning and agile, specifically targeting defensive weaknesses.

Suddenly, the opponent thrust forward, the rapier grazing Silver Throat's arm, leaving a bloody mark and red blood droplets seeping out and dripping onto the arena floor.

Silver Throat didn't even glance at the wound. He simply swept his sword across the ground, forcing his opponent to retreat repeatedly. Then, he lunged forward, his longsword flashing like a viper's tongue, aiming straight for his opponent's abdomen.

His opponent hurriedly raised his sword to block, but was a beat too slow. Silver Throat's blade sliced ​​across his thigh, and blood gushed out instantly, spreading a large, glaring red stain on his white cloth.

The opponent, in pain, knelt on one knee, his grip on the rapier becoming unsteady.

Silverthroat showed no mercy, swinging his longsword again, this time slicing directly into his opponent's shoulder. Flesh tore open, blood splattered, and even splashed onto the faces of the spectators in the front row.

Instead of being terrified, the audience members screamed with even greater excitement.

Taking advantage of the situation, Silver Throat kicked away the thin sword in his opponent's hand and pressed the long sword against his throat.

An ace is an ace after all.

Silver Throat emerged victorious.

Amid cheers from the audience, Silver Throat sheathed his longsword, breathing slightly heavily, the scar on his Adam's apple rising and falling with each breath.

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

"You want to sign up for the competition?" The waitress in the black gauze dress looked at Gao De and asked to confirm.

Gaode nodded.

"Come with me."

As the maid pushed open the rusty side door and walked through the narrow corridor, God smelled a pungent medicinal odor—a low groan came from the room on the left, where 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, the room contained a huge, fat man, lounging on the back of a wide chair, his right hand fiddling with a heavy gold pocket watch. He was probably a manager or supervisor at the sword-fighting club.

"This gentleman wants to register for the competition," the waitress said, pointing to Gao De.

"Oh?" The fat man raised an eyebrow, sat up straight, and instead of asking about Gao De's background, he snapped his fingers and immediately began explaining the rules to Gao De, "Let's talk about the rules first."

"Let me make this clear from the start: before you register for the competition, you must sign a waiver of liability."

"Any injury or other more serious consequences during the competition are your own responsibility and have nothing to do with the fencing school. You'll have to pay for your own medical expenses. At most, if you get stabbed through the heart, we'll just give you a free shroud."

"Also, we only play wet fencing here—no protective gear, no chainmail, and the blade is sharpened."

"In addition, the swords used must be selected from those provided by our sword-making school."

"The opponents are also arranged by us."

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

"As for the reward, for a swordsman like you who is participating in the competition for the first time and has no reputation, the reward for one match is 10 gold coin. If you win, you will receive an additional 5 gold coins."

"No problem," Gao De nodded.

After saying this, the fat manager's expression darkened slightly, and he added, "There's one more thing you need to be careful about: swordsmen participating in the competition are not allowed to place bets on their own, whether it's betting on winning or losing. If we find out, you might not be able to handle the consequences."

"I see."

The entire registration process went very smoothly, with not much scrutiny involved. The only requirement was to sign the waiver.

This is because sword clubs with such high casualty rates are actually extremely short of swordsmen. Under such circumstances, they would naturally be eager for someone to sign up for the competition.

Because they can make huge profits from every match that takes place.

After signing the waiver, Gao De immediately requested that he be arranged to participate in the competition as soon as possible.

The officer was naturally delighted with such an "enthusiastic" player. Since today's competition was over, he flipped through the booklet and arranged for Gao De to play the first match at the fencing hall tomorrow.

This kind of opening match is a warm-up, which is perfect for arranging for swordsmen like Gao De who are new to the sword club and don't have much of a reputation yet.

"By the way, you need to come up with a nickname for yourself so we can use it for advertising." As Gaode was about to leave, the chubby manager remembered something else.

"Let's call it Mountain."

"The victor of this battle is 'Mountain'! This fearless new swordsman, as resolute as a mountain, shattered the venomous fangs!"

The host's sharp, provocative voice tore through the air via amplified brass pipes, creating an echo within the enclosed venue.

The spectators who had placed their bets on "the mountain" were now erupting in deafening cheers.

In the stark white light of the magic crystal lamp, Gao De stood with his sword, blood seeping from between his fingers dripping down the hilt and pooling on the floor.

His clothes were in terrible condition; a whole piece of fabric had been ripped off his left shoulder, revealing a deep wound with visible fascia, the skin and flesh rolled up, and the pale blue blood vessels trembling slightly with his breathing.

His chest and abdomen were covered with crisscrossing sword wounds, forming a terrifying net-like pattern. Fresh blood was gushing out from these grooves, congealing into thick scabs.

The web between the thumb and index finger of his right hand was split open, reaching the bone, and his left arm was covered with small, broken wounds from the elbow down, with the skin torn and fragmented.

In comparison, his opponent's injuries appeared to be much less severe.

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

A deep wound on his right shoulder reached into the muscle, and blood dripped down his arm to the ground. Compared to Gao De's almost mangled state, it did indeed appear to be a "minor injury".

"Are you out of your mind?" Viper looked at Gao De's still bleeding wound, his Adam's apple bobbing as he uttered a question, his tone a mixture of admiration and resentment, quite contradictory.

Gao De smirked, but did not answer the snake's question.

If he were to use magic, all the swordsmen in the sword hall combined would be no match for him.

However, in terms of swordsmanship alone, Gaode does not actually have any advantage.

He studied swordsmanship systematically with a swordsmanship instructor at the Collingwood Sword Academy for about half a year.

Because of the mage's precise perception of his body and his slight talent, his learning progress, according to his swordsmanship instructor, was already at the beginner level.

But every swordsman who dares to sign up for such a high-risk fencing competition to make a living has practiced swordsmanship for more than ten years and has at least a wealth of practical experience relative to his own.

Even the swordsmen who were just warming up for the match were far more skilled in swordsmanship than him.

For example, this is the case with venomous snakes right now.

At the start of the match, Viper's every strike was precise and ruthless, each move aimed at vital points, leaving him almost powerless to fight back.

Under these circumstances, it's actually quite normal for him to lose.

But in the end, the winner turned out to be Gaode.

Gao De did not use any magic to cheat; his victory was solely due to three words: "reckless".

His purpose in participating in wet fencing competitions was to improve his recovery speed from injuries; increasing his fencing skills and combat experience was secondary.

Therefore, he doesn't shy away from getting injured during matches.

As long as it's not a vital area, he's willing to trade injuries for injuries, and with the blessing of the [Painless Body], his pain tolerance has reached an inhuman level.

Even when covered in blood, he didn't even flinch, and his attacks were completely unaffected, like a puppet without any sense of pain.

With this almost insane playing style, even though Viper initially had the advantage, Gaode gradually gained the upper hand as the game progressed.

In the end, the venomous snake revealed a weakness and was slashed across the arm by Gao De's sword. In pain, the snake dropped its weapon and had no choice but to admit defeat.

(End of this chapter)