Chapter Fifty: Passing Smoothly

When it comes to cold weapons, there are countless types if you really try to enumerate them, but as for the ones Yang Fan could actually name, he could only recall sword, saber, axe, hook, and spear. To truly master eighteen kinds of weapons… at the very least, at the very least, it would take him no less than half a year. So Yang Fan made a straightforward choice: sword, spear, and saber. The Thunder Blade was, after all, a type of katana. As for swords, there were many variations—greatsword, longsword, shortsword. Among all weapons, the sword was known as the kingly weapon; thus, in many novels, those who wielded swords were called gentlemen swordsmen, and in ancient imperial courts, certain great scholars and gentlemen would wear long swords as an ornament, embodying the conduct of a true gentleman.

The saber, on the other hand, was the overlord among weapons—it was the most decisive weapon in life-and-death combat. In a true battle to the death, wielding a saber would naturally evoke a sense of domineering power, exerting psychological pressure on the enemy. The spear, with its endless variations and techniques, could be used both for overwhelming force and for cunning maneuvers, and could launch unexpected attacks.

In this brief period, Yang Fan spent an entire day learning about the origins, classifications, and legends of these three weapons. Fortunately, in the cold weapon mastery trial, he possessed abilities twenty-four times greater than an ordinary person; otherwise, he could never have grasped so much in such a short time.

Once he had a basic understanding, Yang Fan began his training, starting with the sword. He did not begin with fancy moves or elaborate sword techniques, but with the fundamentals: thrusting, slicing, lifting, and swinging the sword—the most basic methods of wielding it. Yang Fan dove into this practice, repeating the motions over and over.

Sweat dripped from his body as he thrust the sword forty-seven thousand times in a single day, progressing from slow and awkward movements to the point where he could unleash three to five thrusts in the blink of an eye. Next came seventy-six thousand slices, then sixty-five thousand lifts, each set taking up an entire day. He finished with one hundred and ten thousand swings before the day was over. Thus, five days passed in this relentless routine. Including the nine days prior, a total of fourteen days had gone by.

With sixteen days remaining, Yang Fan began honing his skills by practicing sequences of five basic moves, spending another five days until only eleven days were left. By then, he had achieved a solid mastery of swordsmanship. Next came the saber and spear. The saber’s techniques were simpler, but required the cultivation of a domineering aura—a presence that Yang Fan spent several days refining.

As the saying goes, “Master one method and a thousand will follow.” Yang Fan proved this as his proficiency with swordsmanship made learning the saber and spear much easier—no longer did he need to practice thrusting, slashing, and attacking so desperately. For the saber, it was all about exuding that aura; for the spear, it was about capturing fleeting inspiration and employing agility.

Thus, in the remaining eleven days, Yang Fan tirelessly drilled the fundamental techniques, combat skills, and awareness necessary for battle. He did more than just train with the sword, saber, and spear; he also tested his fighting abilities and reviewed his previous training.

On the final day, Yang Fan’s entire body was wracked with aching pain. After being restored by the illusory world, the system’s voice unexpectedly rang out once more, startling him. By all rights, shouldn’t the eleven days of training have been the end? The sudden message from the system clearly meant danger was imminent. This was the benefit of enhanced intelligence—being able to draw inferences and connect the dots.

“The player has mastered the basic abilities and will now be sent into the perilous forest for an adventure. Please prepare yourself. All your equipment will be confiscated—get ready for battle.”

As the system’s voice faded, the world around Yang Fan vanished. In its place appeared a mist-shrouded forest, where only faint moonlight pierced the darkness. The woods were terrifying, and the distant howling of wolves could be heard.

“You do not have much life remaining. If you fail to exit the forest within one day, you will be deemed to have failed.”

Hearing this, Yang Fan wasted no time and darted straight into the forest. As soon as he entered, a faint poisonous gas assaulted his senses. Yang Fan quickly scanned his surroundings, found a locally abundant plant, crushed it, and smeared its juice beneath his nose. Inhaling, he was met with a pungent odor, but it successfully blocked the poison from entering his body.

In forests filled with poisonous gas, the most common plant is often an antidote. Yang Fan relied on poison to fight poison, a lesson he remembered from the intelligence assessment.

Having dealt with the poison, Yang Fan assessed his position, using the environment and the earth and water—this was where his scouting expertise came into play. He quickly determined his direction and headed straight south. His pace was fast, yet efficient, never wasting a moment.

Soon, Yang Fan found a sharp bamboo stick to use as a weapon. After another hour’s trek, he encountered two bears, each around three meters tall. Battle was inevitable; there was no escape.

Yang Fan coated the bamboo stick with a surge of crimson energy and drove it straight through one of the demonic bears’ heads—decisive and ruthless. He then crashed into the second bear with his aura, knocking it seven or eight meters away, before finishing it off with another thrust. Crimson blood pooled on the ground. Without hesitation, Yang Fan abandoned the corpses and hurried on, wary of attracting more magical beasts.

Thus, Yang Fan made full use of everything he had learned, forging ahead in this trial. Each step seemed meticulously calculated for himself: from scouting, to hand-to-hand combat, to cold weapon techniques—only firearms could not be used; everything else came into play.

After bathing in the blood of a giant python, Yang Fan staggered out of a cave, filthy and battered. He had barely survived; there were two fully-leveled first-tier elite pythons and several smaller ones. Had he not fought desperately at the critical moment, he would have perished there.

He hadn’t even made it halfway through the forest and had already encountered such danger. Yang Fan steeled his resolve, growing more cautious, moving as if treading thin ice.

In the end, Yang Fan fought a fierce battle with a first-tier bronze-level boss, breaking several ribs in the process. But fortunately, he defeated it and successfully passed the trial…

(Thanks to Brother Reincarnation, Legend of the Sky, and Brother Flying Rabbit for the tips… and to all friends who support Melon Seed with recommendations and votes. Once more, Happy National Day! After you finish playing, please cast a recommendation vote and give a click. If you have a little spare cash, feel free to leave a tip—haha.)

[bookid=2993585, bookname=“The Urban Master of All Skills”] I recommend a friend’s novel… Well, this guy has a ton of inspiration, so… so, his books… well, enough said!