Chess Mage of Faerûn

Chapter 14: Living and Working in Peace and Contentment?

Zhang Yuan has always been open to any kind of perk. After carefully examining the lighting, orientation, and other factors of each room, he decisively chose the largest one!

Zhang Yuan, who was studying at Hans's house, had long been fed up with his miserable cramped living conditions. Not used to sharing bathrooms and kitchens with others, he deliberately chose small, fully-equipped apartments when renting a place.

However, at the same price, the cost of independent functions is a small living area. The bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen combined are only 15 square meters, which is really not enough space to even stretch out.

Now that he has the opportunity, he's naturally going to vent his frustration from back then. Don't tell me anything about choosing the bigger one just because it faces south!
Seeing that Zhang Yuan had chosen a room that was nearly 30 square meters larger than the other rooms, Ska raised an eyebrow and joked, "This is a double room, prepared for potential couples. You'd better hurry up and find a female companion, otherwise, if someone else snatches it up, you single guy will have to move out."

Damn it! Did some single guy eat your rice? Daring to show off your relationship in front of your teammates? Aren't you afraid of being thrown out as bait?

Zhang Yuan, who was determined to stay in this dormitory forever, completely ignored Ska's nonsense.

After opening the package and putting away his personal belongings, Zhang Yuan suddenly remembered something extremely important: "Captain, where is the toilet here?"

"Do you see this wall?"

"See, what?"

"Beyond this wall, there are only toilets!"

...Damn! The person, speechless with shock, felt as if their common sense and worldview had been trampled on by the alpacas.

Seeing the expression on the newcomers' faces, Scar burst into laughter: "Just kidding. We're not those green-skinned animals, how could we not even have a restroom? There are two public restrooms on each floor, right at the end of the corridor."

Knowing he was being teased, Zhang Yuan glared at the cheap captain and turned to walk out the door.

"Hey, I was just kidding, where are you going?"

"You're taking a dump, do you want to come along?"

Feeling relieved and light-hearted, Zhang Yuan returned to the lobby downstairs and found Ska waiting there with his arms crossed. He went up to greet him.

Ska pulled a finger from his pocket and pointed to the training ground in the yard. "There aren't many people here today, so let's test your physical fitness and fighting skills."

"Can I eat something first? I haven't had lunch yet." Zhang Yuan, who hadn't eaten since morning, was even hungrier after going to the toilet.

"Just bear with it for now. You can't do strenuous exercise after eating, or it will take up a lot of time."

Helpless, Zhang Yuan had no choice but to follow them to the training field and stand opposite Ska, looking around.

"First, we'll do a strength test, then speed and endurance. Finally, I'll have a sparring session with you. Warm up first, so you don't hurt yourself." Ska, now serious, didn't waste any words and issued a series of instructions.

There was no room for refusal now that things had come to this, so Zhang quickly started his warm-up exercises—the eighth set of broadcast gymnastics, for the times were calling.

Watching someone's movements, which resembled a bear dancing, with great interest, I had a big question mark in my mind about Zhang Yuan's physical condition. With his amateurish appearance, you could easily mistake him for a farmer; he didn't seem to have the physical qualities of a warrior at all.

The test results were quite different from Ska's expectations. Although the new team member's speed was indeed a weakness, and his clumsiness due to a lack of formal training was evident throughout the test, his strengths were also very prominent. He was able to complete the final endurance test—a five-kilometer weighted run—without batting an eye after a series of high-intensity exercises. Afterwards, he stood in front of himself without even bending his back or legs, which was much better than some of his teammates who almost coughed up their lungs after the run.

In comparison, its strength is not particularly impressive, but it is sufficient to meet the needs of close combat.

After Zhang Yuan rested for a while and regained his strength, Ska walked over carrying a wooden sword and asked, "What weapon are you good with?"

"I also use a sword."

"Catch!" Ska tossed the wooden sword in his hand over, then turned and pulled out another one from somewhere: "Now, attack me with all your might!"

He drew his sword, stepped forward, his gaze fixed intently on his opponent's eyes, and swung his sword!
This sword strike is as sharp as frost and as fast as lightning; this sword strike is as swift as thunder; this sword strike is like a banished immortal flying across; this sword strike is like cleaving through eternity.

What a fine sword! This is a near-perfect strike. Why near-perfect? ​​Because it's a shame that Ska easily parried it, then kicked our great swordsman Zhang to the ground. But apart from that, it is indeed perfect, at least in someone's imagination.

Despite having imagined countless swordsmen like Dugu Qiubai, Ximen Chuixue, and Li Chungang in his mind, Zhang Yuan did not last even a single round.

The man, blushing deeply with embarrassment, felt utterly cheated by the system. This Sword Saint class was completely useless! Zhang Yuan complained inwardly.

Having just taught the rookie a lesson, Ska didn't stop. Instead, he slowed down, allowing Zhang Yuan to continue attacking him.

Confused, Zhang Yuan had no choice but to grit his teeth and charge at his opponent, only to be easily blocked and repelled time and time again.

After more than ten rounds of back and forth, Ska finally stopped: "Alright, that's enough. Test over."

Upon hearing that the test was over, Zhang Yuan immediately threw down his sword and sat on the ground. Although he wasn't very tired, the sense of defeat still left him feeling somewhat uneasy.

After putting away his weapon, Ska sat down next to Zhang Yuan and said something that surprised him greatly: "Not bad, much better than I expected."

Zhang Da Jianke almost thought this was a mockery of him. He swung his sword with all his might but was completely outmaneuvered by his opponent, not even managing to touch a hair on his head. And this was considered "not bad"? Then the veterans in the mercenary group could all call themselves legendary warriors, right?
Seeing Zhang Yuan's doubt and disbelief, Ska patiently explained, "It's normal that you can't get close to me. I'm a level 9 warrior after all. I've trained for over a decade, and you probably can't even imagine the dangers I've faced."

"But what about you? You're probably a complete novice who's never seen blood before, right? No, you haven't even had any formal training. I can see that clearly from your steps, movements, and reactions. But when you pick up a sword, you actually manage to look quite impressive."

"Moreover, your combat instincts are quite good. Although your body can't keep up with your reactions, you can make up for it through training. But talent is something that doesn't make sense. You either have it or you don't."

After listening to Ska's explanation, Zhang Yuan finally understood that his system had not treated him unfairly after all. Although it had not given him superb fighting skills or a powerful burst attack that could kill with a single blow, it had inherited the keen intuition and sharp sense of attack unique to the Sword Saint class without reservation.

Looking back on the practice matches, although he was completely overwhelmed by Ska and his clumsy performance was appalling, there were a few times when he did see through his opponent's intentions and even vaguely glimpsed the flaws in his opponent's offensive and defensive transitions. However, the difference in strength was too great, and it was of no use in seeing anything.

This discovery immediately invigorated Zhang Dajianke, who had been dejected. Since he already possessed a certain talent and his improved physical attributes were not bad, as long as he had time and practiced diligently, he might not necessarily fail to achieve something in close combat.

The rumbling stomach let out an untimely complaint, rudely interrupting its master's fantasy about the eternal darkness of swordsmanship and how a single sword could once stop a million soldiers.

(End of this chapter)