Year 658 of the Stable Era,

  Twentieth day of the tenth month

  ‘Bout a bit after after-lunch snacks

  Guan Tie gasped as the sword cut a thin line through his chest, blood spurting as he caught Li Zhan’s sword with his guard. His meridians burned as he forced the metal to become stronger than ever before, desperately diverting the incoming blade by the barest margin as his spear swept to the side, narrowly catching Li Zhan in the ribs.

  The cloudsteel sword rose in a fourth slash in response, and Guan Tie leaned instinctively, the blade shortening twelve hairs as it whooshed by his head. He drew back as Li Zhan took another stance, his breath heavy as he took in his circumstances.

  That had been too close. But at the same time, too…familiar. He drew in a breath of qi as their weapons clashed again, focusing his intent into thin bands, emphasizing the narrowness of the strips as much as possible to avoid wasting energy. The curved cloudsteel blade rose and fell as it met his shaft, and his eyes widened as he drew more qi to his pupils, forcing his sight to match the increasing speed of the blade.

  Their weapons met nine times before they pulled apart again, Guan Tie drawing another three ribbons to his bracelets as he watched his opponent’s weapon. The gentle curve of the blade swept through the air with casual ease as his opponent took a familiar stance.

  No, that didn’t make sense.

  His opponent had led with an extended sword arm for their first three clashes. How could his new stance—a defensive form that gripped his sword with both hands—be familiar? There was something odd going on here, and he needed to end this fight now before it progressed any further.

  With a flick of his shoulders he released the six bracelets that he’d been hiding amidst his armor, spinning his blade like a whirlpool as he activated the ribbons for his self-made secret technique. He’d been planning on keeping it a secret until the next tournament, but he could always swear Hui and her secretary to secret again.

  No.

  Wait…again?

  His mind wavered as the strongest of his ribbons blazed like the sun off a quiet lake, a pair of spears with long liquid blades and shafts of bronze materializing into the waiting metal hands at his sides. His three-spear technique, the one that he’d spent years practicing in secret. Each ribbon carefully spun and embroidered with decades of his experience with the art of talisman crafting. Each move practiced to the greatest extent he could with himself, readying for the moment it could debut for the first time—

  Or was it?

  Guan Tie’s intent wavered as uncertainty washed over him again, his weapons barely rising in time to meet Li Zhan’s charge. Sparks flew as the bronze spear shafts fell apart, the talismans sustaining them falling to the ground as Li Zhan’s sword rose in a final blow.

  Li Zhan drew his sword, and Guan Tie blinked as he watched the curved sword glint in the light.

  It was a cloudsteel blade, forged in the shape of a classic jian in all aspects but its tip, which swept up in a subtle curve like that of a crow’s beak rather than forming the typical triangular point such blades were known for.

  Guan Tie’s spear spun lightly in his hands for a moment as he watched the blade, gathering qi in the palm of his hand as the two began to circle. Then, as Li Zhan took a step, and the tip of his spear rose in a feint, he struck.

  Blood erupted as metal spikes drove themselves through his palm, metal qi rapidly taking physical form as it burst through the back of his hand. Guan Tie grimaced at the pain, watching as Li Zhan gave him the courtesy of a modicum of surprise, his eyebrows raising a fraction at the suddenness of the self-inflicted wound.

  “HAH!” Guan Tie called, as the blood pooling around his hand squelched into the iron spikes sticking out of it, like drawn to like as he conserved as much of his qi-rich blood as possible.

  At his stage of body cultivation he could easily regenerate his blood, but it took a while for it to match the potency of the rest of his body’s supply. And against a tricky opponent like this, a small gap like that could be all it took.

  “Your illusion techniques mighta worked on someone with less experience, but I’ve beaten more of ‘em than I’ve lost to! It’ll take a lot more than that to mix me up!” Guan Tie laughed, tapping a finger against his forehead as he took in the condition of his body through the aches of his hand. He was relieved to find that he had had yet to take a real wound, which meant that that Li Zhan’s technique must have been probing in nature. A way to figure out the whatever secret techniques he had up his sleeve before—

  “I don’t practice illusion techniques,” Li Zhan said, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

  “Oh, don’t bother lying to me!” Guan Tie scoffed. “I’ve caught on to your little trick. You almost had me, but you messed up a basic detail! You couldn’t even get your own sword right, mixing a triangle blade with a curved one. Sloppy work, for someone inna sword intent group. If you’re even in it!”

  “Oh,” Li Zhan said, lips curling upwards in a smile. “You noticed. I thought that only Feng, Jingbo, and Oma paid attention to my blades, but it makes sense that a champion like yourself would be able appreciate the differences between them.”

  “I ain’t appreciating anything,” Guan Tie snapped, his intent surging like a river as his spear lashed out in a flurry of rapid stabs. Li Zhan’s cloudsteel blade met them head on, ringing as it matched him blow for blow.

  “How are you doing that?” Guan Tie demanded, his qi surging as he sunk more needles into his body. He targeted his own acupoints, short spines forming from his armor as he tried to force any invading qi out of himself. More pain surged through him as he flared his qi to burn out the infestation, but still his opponent’s blade matched him at every turn. “I’m not in it anymore. I’m FREE!!”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  His intent surged as forced his conviction into the last words, his own willpower clashing against…nothing. There was no push back, no resistance. It was like he was striking empty air. Li Zhan stared at him as he stood panting, beads of sweat and blood mixing along his arms, the product of his exertions.

  “What are you doing?” his foe finally asked, his sword falling at his side as he regarded Guan Tie with concern.

  “I’m…breaking your illusion technique,” Guan Tie panted, forcing another iron spike through his left hand as he did. He made sure to form it with nothing but qi and will. Talismans couldn’t be trusted against an illusion, as their activations could be prevented, but the pain of the spike and the solidity of his own qi was unmistakably real.

  So how?

  How was this happening?

  “This is hardly the conditions for a proper test,” Li Zhan said with a sigh, watching as more blood pooled around the metal. “This round should be considered an inconclusive draw.”

  Li Zhan drew his sword and Guan Tie roared, lunging forwards as the curved sword glinted in the light. They met with a clash, his spear cleaving forwards with all the intent he could muster.

  Intent on breaking his opponent.

  Intent on shattering this illusion.

  Intent on figuring out what in the five hells was happening to him.

  Li Zhan’s sword met the blow with the same ease as ever, their intents as perfect of a match as he deflected it to the side. Guan Tie’s spear sank into the stone of the arena, carving a crescent through it with ease as his blade circled around for another blow.

  “What are you doing to me!” he cried, water pouring from the fists clenching his spear as he flooded the arena, desperately trying to feel what was real and what was fake. The water halted as it reached the edge of the stone before stopping, pooling against an invisible wall.

  “We’re sparring,” Li Zhan said calmly, meeting his gaze. “An opponent of your skill doesn’t come along every day, so I am making sure to properly appreciate such an opportunity.”

  “By trapping me in here?”

  “Trapping?” Li Zhan gave him another confused look. “I thought that you would enjoy an opportunity like this.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Guan Tie shouted, bracelets spinning as he struck out at Li Zhan with striking serpents and lashing tentacles formed from the flooded floor.

  “What do you mean?” Li Zhan asked, cutting down each attack in turn, his blade moving so smoothly that barely a drop touched his robes.

  “What technique are you using on me?” Guan Tie demanded. “Why does everything feel so weirdly familiar?”

  “Oh,” Li Zhan said, casually cutting down a liquid lora. “That is just my little practice technique, for getting in a bit more training. Once one of us wins, it allows us to start another round without needing to take a break to rest. And no matter how many rounds we fight, only the time it takes for a single round will have passed. It is an ideal technique for sparring with a worthy foe. With it, we can continue to improve, sharpening our blades against each other to our hearts’ contents.”

  Guan Tie stared at Li Zhan in shock as his brain tried to process what he had just said, his bracelets clattering to a stop as he did.

  Had he heard him right?

  Was his opponent seriously claiming to have comprehended a principle of time itself?

  More than just that, mastered enough of it to use it so casually in a fight? Against an opponent like him?

  Guan Tie’s spear wavered as he went through the barest motion of attempting to parry Li Zhan’s spear, as the cloudsteel blade made contact with his chest yet again.

  Li Zhan drew his sword as Guan Tie drew in a breath, focusing his qi as he attempted to center himself.

  “So how long do you intent on keeping me trapped like this?” he demanded, tossing his spear to the side. Li Zhan watched him as he did, his sword resting at his side as he waited for him to retrieve the spear.

  “Are you…unhappy?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

  “Of course!” Guan Tie snapped, his fist glowing a bright green as he threw a punch at Li Zhan. The swordsman leaned to the right to dodge the blow, only to list to the side as Guan Tie’s spear drove itself through his ribs, skewering the organs behind it.

  “Ah, I see,” Li Zhan said as he toppled to the side. “That was a trick.”

  “A good move,” Li Zhan said as he drew his sword, the serrations of his blade glittering like jagged teeth in the afternoon light. “Using words to deceive me as you launched a flying weapon technique.”

  “How?” Guan Tie gasped, his grip tightening around his spear as he stared at his opponent’s uninjured chest.

  “We’re closer now,” Li Zhan continued, ignoring his shock. “That makes it 23 for you and 167 for me. If you keep that up, you’ll be able to turn the tide soon. Now, this blade was a favorite of mine to make, even if its performance is far better against flesh than weapons or armor.”

  Guan Tie bit his lip as he threw everything at Li Zhan, throwing caution to the winds as he unleashed the full might of cultivation against his opponent. If he was truly doomed to relive this fight over and over again, the least he could do was test his limits against his foe.

  Metal and water clashed as their techniques met again and again, the roar of his blood drowning out all other sounds. His bracelets whirled in endless combinations, pushing his prepared talismans through their myriad permutations as he sought to find a method to break Li Zhan’s swordsmanship.

  Rings of water carved fresh scars through the arena again and again. Metal shards littered the ground over and over. Mist rose and cleared. Thunder pealed, and lightning fast intent rose to answer it.

  But each time he broke through, each time he landed a strike and met Li Zhan’s enduring intent, his opponent would adapt. His technique was as diverse as his swords, each move blurring together into the nebulous idea of a blade. A jian six and a half hands long and as sharp as a thought, almost more the embodiment of his foe’s sword intent than a vessel for it.

  His technique was hard at times, the perfect embodiment of a manual’s teachings, but at others fluid, improvised moves breaking convention as the cloudsteel blade moved in new patterns only suited for the moment they existed within.

  Guan Tie felt himself flagging as Li Zhan drew his sword again and again. His body, his qi, they were all recovered by his opponent’s mysterious technique, but his mind couldn’t take much more.

  There was just no end to it.

  It wasn’t a fight.

  It wasn’t a spar.

  There was no joy in it. None of the rush of challenging a new opponent with everything all on the line.

  It was an obsession.

  A relentless pursuit of the sword, pulling him deeper into its madness each time Li Zhan drew his sword again.

  ***

  Gao Oma clapped as her Senior stepped away from his opponent, clearing the blood from his blade with a cloth before sheathing it at his side. Guan Tie slumped to his knees in exhaustion, clearly tired from exertion of using so many techniques in close succession.

  It had been an amazing fight. Senior Li Zhan had matched Guan Tie blow for blow, his swordsmanship able to endure the full fury of the flurry of techniques that the champion had unleashed. His self-made Myriad Ribbon Flowing Spear Technique was a truly adaptable art, able to alternate moves with just a thought to throw opponents off balance, but Senior Li Zhan’s fundamentals had been more than a match for it.

  Each move had been performed without waste; his timing, his footwork, his spacing, his positioning, all performed with a level of precision that made his sword more fluid than even his opponent’s water whips.

  “Ah,” Li Zhan said, a content look Oma had never seen before on his face. “It has been a while since I’ve been able to savor an encounter like this.”

  “What do you mean Senior?” Oma asked, a bit confused by his statement. The fight, while technically impressive, had barely lasted a stick.

  Li Zhan ignored her as he settled into a lotus pose, closing an eye as he did. He had a lot to digest from his many fights with Guan Tie, and while he would be remiss to ignore Baikun Feng’s fight, he would only be able to spare it a fraction of his full attention.

  “I will be meditating on my spar with Guan Tie. Do not disturb me,” he said, letting his conscious drift towards the many battles he had to reflect upon.

  “Alright Senior,” Oma replied, settling into her seat as she turned her attention towards what promised to be another great match. Guan Tie was pulling himself to his feet as he popped a recovery pill of some sort into his mouth, his stern-faced superior grimacing as she began producing items from her spatial ring.