So eerie. My gut tightened like a knot in cold rope. I’ve never faced an enemy this uncanny. He reads my next move like ripples foretelling the wind. He even finds the densest knot of Sword Aura inside my Sword Qi Storm, then scatters it like petals in rain. Sword Intent can do something similar, sure, but I’m nowhere near Jing’s level. Not yet, not under this sky.

What do I do now? My confidence in clearing this layer is leaking away like sand through fingers. I can barely keep up with Jing’s speed by leaning on Sword Intent, like riding a current just to stay afloat. But he knows my next step, like a hawk watching a mouse’s shadow. Honestly, landing three clean hits on him feels like reaching for the moon. Unless I get so fast he can’t predict me. No—fantasy. I’m not Xinuo. Or unless I use a sword art that covers everything, a storm with no shelter. Also fantasy. I’d need something that blankets the entire Trial Lake. I’m not Xinuo. I don’t have that ocean-wide blade.

Argh. I circle my thoughts and hit a wall each time, like waves breaking on stone. This is maddening. At this pace, I won’t touch a single hair on Jing before my strength runs dry like a cracked well.

“Ahem… that strike packed quite the gale. This humble one almost took it.” His voice drifted like a breeze after thunder.

With a single sweep that cut through smoke like dawn through mist, Jing banished the blast haze from the tornado. He smiled, light as frost. His clothes were pristine, not a thread frayed. My explosion from the Sword Qi Storm failed. The lake swallowed the proof.

I gave a bitter smile, then drew breath slow as the tide, steadying my heartbeat. To hit Jing, the first rule is simple as stone—stay calm from first step to last. Panic is a cracked hull; he’ll flood me through any gap.

“If I can’t land a hit, even the strongest strike is wasted water,” I said, voice level as still water.

I drew in the lakebed’s water-element energy, like inhaling deep fog, and gathered Sword Aura in a whirl, mad and bright.

“Dance of the Torrent: Water Dragon!”

I swung the Shattered Light Sword as fast as lightning skimming water. Streams of water-aspected Sword Aura coiled into dragons and surged at Jing. The lake roared and pitched, waves reared like horses. As they flew, the dragons drank power from the water, growing like storm clouds swelling with rain.

“A fine technique,” Jing said, eyes clear as a winter sky. “A pity—just a shade too slow.”

He lifted his ice-blue tachi without hurry, like snow drifting yet never falling. His footwork turned elusive, graceful as fog over reeds. Each water dragon missed by a hair, then shattered under a single swing, spray scattering like pearls. A few steps, and he’d scattered them all. He looked effortless, unbound, like a gull riding wind.

He moved like a leaf dancing in wind. The breeze nudged one way, he floated that way. No grip, no anchor, only flow. He must’ve mapped each dragon’s path and bite before they arrived, reading currents like scripture.

The dragons weren’t fast enough. For Jing, they were ripples on a pond.

“Hey. Sloppy, aren’t you? I’m behind you,” I said, voice low as a knife’s shadow.

While he shattered the dragons, I sprinted hard enough to tear air, circling behind him. I never expected a few dragons to threaten Jing. That was bait.

If he can predict my next step, then strike him from where his eyes can’t reach—his back. My Sword Aura had already coalesced, sharp as a crescent moon. Then—

“Draw Sword Technique!”

I whipped the Shattered Light Sword from my waist in a single arc, the draw a flash like a falling star. An arcing blade of Sword Aura flew, distance so tight it reached him in a blink—

“This humble one has never once been careless. You, however—”

“What?!” The warning hit me like ice down my spine.

A razor stroke bloomed above me, a guillotine of light about to fall. The Jing in front of me dissolved, only an afterimage born of speed, lingering like heat-haze. He left a phantom that lasted this long—how fast is he? How many winds can one man wear?

No. Don’t think. Feeling first, answer second. I must block. I’m too late to dodge; the blade is already the rain over my head.

I shook my head hard, flinging off fatigue like water, and ignored the hollow weakness clawing in—Draw Sword Technique freezes my body a full heartbeat. I forced Sword Aura to rise again, then slashed up.

“Sword Qi Storm!”

A colossal tornado roared up around me, born from nothing like a mountain lifting out of the sea. Jing’s strike pressed down, but the vortex held it, both forces snarling in stalemate. I bolted away, feet skimming like skates on ice. Jing was above me, outside my sight. That blind spot was a cliff’s edge. I needed distance. I needed space to breathe.

Boom!!

Moments later, blade and vortex detonated together, and the lake heaved. Waves surged hundreds of meters high, then shattered into rain. Finger-thick beads hammered down from the sky, a downpour of pearls.

“…”

“…”

Jing and I faced each other across the rippling silver, both soaked through, clothes clinging like second skin. Droplets beaded on our faces and caught the sun, each one a shard of light.

After a breath that felt like a long tide, Jing spoke, voice calm as still water. “Your strength is beyond this humble one’s expectations. It is a first to see a youth hold this humble one to a draw. Many your age have reached this layer. Without exception, most were defeated within three moves.”

“Most… so a few did pass the Trial Lake?” My pulse steadied like oars finding rhythm.

“Indeed. They were peerless geniuses from outside,” he said, eyes like clear glass. “A few not inferior to the Mizumi Clan.”

“Is that so?” I nodded, a quiet spark rising like dawn. Geniuses beyond the Mizumi Clan… I want to meet them. To do that, I can’t drown at the Trial Lake. Not here. Not today.

From that clash, I’d spent about a third of my strength, like a cask already tipped. I can’t keep trading like this, or I’ll lose when the wind dies.

I tossed the Shattered Light Sword into the air, blade spinning like a falling leaf.

“Sword Domain!”

The sapphire lake turned gold in an instant, as if the sun melted and poured into the water. The surface, the shores, even the air filled with blades forged from Sword Aura, a forest of edges hanging like stars. The thick water element inverted, refined into Sword Aura and pure energy, the air buzzing like a hive.

“A Sword Wielder’s domain? How formidable.” Jing’s praise landed soft as snow. He slid into an attacking stance, his body swaying like a reed about to lash with the wind.

I couldn’t let him take the first gust. The Shattered Light Sword dropped cleanly into my grip like a falcon to the glove. I drew every blade within the domain toward me, a tide answering the moon, and bound them under my Sword Intent.

“Myriad Swords Unleashed!”

A clear sword-chime rang across the Trial Lake, bright as ice striking crystal. Thousands upon thousands of blades streaked for Jing from every direction, so fast the air spiderwebbed with faint cracks, like glass under strain.

I refuse to believe he can slip through this. With so many blades, so tight a net, there’s no gap, no mercy. And I have Sword Domain and Sword Intent both fanning the flames.

Still, caution anchors the boat. The instant the blades flew, I began gathering Sword Aura for the next technique, stacking thunder on thunder.

But then the sight before me froze my breath like winter.

“Mirror Calm Water.”