Swords, magic, and martial arts

Chapter 122 The Beginning of the Finals

Back at the hotel, Rod resumed his previous routine, spending his days in his room studying martial arts manuals.

After wasting several days studying the secrets of the Divine Illumination Technique, Rod finally decided to give up, thinking it would be better to study simpler martial arts and then slowly study the Divine Illumination Technique later.

As the vice-commander of the Blue Ocean Knights assured him, no one had disturbed Rhodes during this period.

In the last farce, Rhodes killed six captured Velen pirates. After returning to his room, he was surprised to find that killing them provided enough chivalry points for him to draw a prize.

This time, he chose to draw a martial arts manual again, and the manual he drew this time looked pretty good.

The Blazing Palm Manual: It contains detailed instructions on how to practice the Blazing Palm technique.

Rhodes spent two days and two nights learning this martial art. He channeled his inner energy into his palms, which allowed him to surround them with a layer of flames. These flames would only harm the person he struck, not him.

He didn't know if it was because he had learned the Flame Palm technique and practiced its internal energy circulation several times, but he found that the flames from burning wood felt the same as when he touched slightly hot water before—they only made him feel hot and didn't hurt him.

This applies not only to the palms of the hands, but also to other parts of the body.

As a result, Rhodes' resistance to fire magic in the destruction magic category has also increased significantly. He even tried having Baron use the Flame Tongue spell on his hand, and it felt like touching a hot water bottle that wasn't very hot.

Rhodes was somewhat looking forward to the possibility that learning martial arts like the Xuanming Divine Palm would greatly increase his resistance to the cold, perhaps even allowing him to run naked in the Nord winter without feeling cold.

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If you're not afraid of the cold, then why would you have the idea of ​​running naked?

Taking advantage of the quiet of the night, Rhodes found an open space and unleashed a fiery palm strike infused with mixed power onto the river.

The power was terrifying; countless drops of water were evaporated by the high temperature of the flames, and for a moment that area was like a sauna, filled with water vapor.

It is estimated to be as powerful as a fireball spell the size of a one-story house.

It's a pity it can't be used in the competition, but it can be used as a trump card on future journeys.

He felt he could unleash at least a dozen flame palms of that size.

Time quickly came to the day of the team finals of the athletic tournament. Before that, Rhode spent the day he went into the city with Misel to retrieve the armor, and the rest of the time he was studying martial arts manuals.

The final was held in the afternoon. Because Rod had been engrossed in training and hadn't spent time thinking about today's match, he wasn't very nervous.

Miles, on the other hand, was different. Rod noticed during lunch that Miles was completely different from the previous few days.

"Why are you shaking your leg so much? Is there a sewing machine in your mind?" Rod teased Miles while eating.

"No, I'm just very nervous." Miles' face was a little pale.

"As long as you master what's on that animal hide scroll I gave you, you'll make it to the finals every time." Rhodes patted him on the shoulder.

"I almost forgot, the thing you gave me doesn't exist. I practiced for days, but you still managed to knock my shield through and knock me unconscious," Miles said, somewhat agitated.

"How long have you been training?" Rod asked after thinking for a moment.

"Three days!" Miles replied.

Rod was speechless. He had the help of the system and had endured countless beatings to develop his current resilience.

"You stopped connecting after that?" Rhodes asked again.

"I've stopped practicing. I've already realized it's useless, so why should I practice it? Is it a waste of time?" Miles said matter-of-factly.

"Set a small goal first, practice for a month and see what happens—"

"I'll find out I've wasted a lot of time?" Miles interrupted Rod.

Rod was somewhat helpless; it seemed he'd have to find a quick and effective martial art for Miles to learn in the future. Watching his previous matches...

He really likes running, so let's choose a light-body skill for him in the future.

"Have you finished eating? The weather's bad today, we'd better head over before it rains," Baron said.

Rod looked at the sky outside the door; it was gloomy, as if a torrential downpour could begin at any moment.

"What if it rains during the match?" Rod asked himself, and even he felt a little stupid after he said it.

"Of course we'll keep going. Real warriors don't care about the weather when they're fighting," Baron said dismissively.

Rhodes remembered that the arena was made of yellow mud. On sunny days, it was fine, just a bit dusty. But when it rained, they had to fight in the mud, crawling and rolling around in the mud until they were covered in sticky mud.

Just thinking about that situation makes me feel a bit horrified, no, not horrified, just horrible.

"Miles, aren't you worried about getting covered in mud when it rains?" Rod asked.

Miles stood up and said with great spirit, "A true warrior doesn't care about whether he has dirt on him when he's fighting."

"But you're a bard," Rhodes reminded him.

"No, from this day forward I am a warrior."

Rod didn't know if there were any neurosurgeons in the world; if there were, he could pay to take Miles to see one.

"Let's go." Rhodes put down his knife and fork. He saw that Hammer and Misell had finished their lunch, so he didn't plan to eat anymore.

Soon, the group arrived at the hall where the participants were preparing, a place they had visited before.

Today's competition has a total of 60 teams and 300 participants. Apart from the 30 teams that qualified through the preliminary rounds, the rest are teams composed of nobles or people of high reputation.

This led some people to complain that it was unfair, but Rod felt that the world was unfair from the moment people were born. Some were nobles, some were commoners, and some were even worse off as slaves.

He felt that it was already good enough that Duke Owen was able to allow commoners and nobles to compete on the same stage. Many cities also had athletic tournaments, but only people with noble status could participate, and they had nothing to do with commoners.

"You're not planning to choose two shields again this time?" The finals were about to begin, and it was time to choose weapons again. Baron asked Miles next to him.

Miles shook his head. "No, this time I want to choose a two-handed greatsword, just like you guys."

"Can you even lift it? You might as well choose a one-handed sword and a shield," Baron said.

Miles walked over to the smallest of the two-handed swords, picked it up, swung it around a bit, and thought it was pretty good.

He saw a person next to him holding two one-handed longswords.

Carrying two swords would definitely attract more attention than carrying a two-handed sword. Why didn't I think of that before?

He put down his two-handed sword, picked up two one-handed swords, and followed Rhodes and the others outside.

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