I realized I’d still underestimated Lixue; the hope had been a cloud thinning if she dropped from the sky, maybe a break in the storm.
Now she’s down, and we’ve been clashing at arm’s length; the weight has lightened like lifting off sandbags, yet the tide still favors Lixue.
Why? The answer is clear as moonlight on a pond—
Her Mirror Calm Water matches my Sword Intent, a still lake facing my restless wind.
Her special sort of Sword Domain bites harder in a duel, a sealed room compared to my open field, especially in this tight range.
Her swordcraft edges mine by a grain, petals sharper than my leaves; what I carry, she carries, and she holds blades I don’t.
In that, the battle has moved from avalanche to stalemate, a rope tugged taut; that gives me a thread of comfort, a lantern in mist.
A stalemate means the gap is small, a bridge within reach; in short, I still have a shot.
...
“Extreme Sword: Wild Dance!”
Tension knotted like thorns, and I slipped past Lixue’s slash, then cast a wide-area technique like scattering sparks across dry grass.
I didn’t expect a miracle; I only wanted to tangle her feet, to buy a heartbeat, a crack in the ice for my next strike.
Lixue stayed calm as winter water; her silhouette flowed like a stream, her steps graceful as drifting cranes, slipping past every arc of Wild Dance.
... So even this won’t do? Her Mirror Calm Water predicts like starlight charting tides; even my Sword Intent can’t reach that horizon.
“Dance of Blossoms: Withering.”
A prickle of dread crawled up like frost; Lixue pivoted on her toe and lifted twin blades, motion unhurried as falling petals.
A dazzling ice-blue sword-light bloomed in my vision, a comet streaking the night sea, and my gut clenched like drumskin.
“Not good—Sword Qi Storm!”
I became the eye of a cyclone, Sword Aura whirling into a tornado around me, a rising column that met that flash head-on.
The sword-light flared and vanished like lightning; my storm froze to crystal, then shattered with a brittle crack, ice dust on the wind.
Relief washed through me like warm tea; a half-beat slower and I’d have been pierced like paper by rain.
Her sword techniques are all offense, no shield—each a high-impact finisher, peaks crashing without pause; even up close she never throws a light jab.
For me, every answer costs dear, a furnace stoked too hot; her next waves came without a breath, no room to sip air.
I’ve stopped getting crushed flat, but I’m still downwind; without initiative, I move to her rhythm, a leaf caught in her current.
My stamina bleeds faster than usual, sweat chilling like dew on iron; her tempo keeps me reactive, always a step behind the drum.
This won’t do. Frustration surged like a caged tiger; I need to break her cadence, or I’ll never step out of this shadow.
What can I do… Right, start with myself. My Sword Domain now spreads too wide, a lake thinned to marsh; power diffuses, hard to focus.
“...Can I shrink the Sword Domain?”
The idea struck like flint; I split my mind in two rivers—parrying Lixue’s rain while my Sword Intent squeezed the Domain into a tighter ring.
Minutes dripped by like cold water; split focus cost me, and blades kissed me several times, shallow cuts burning like nettles.
I dodged death by hairsbreadths, but the pain was real as winter; the wind bit bone, and each sting rang like chimes.
On the other hand, solace flickered like a candle—the compression worked smoothly, the Domain narrowing by about a third.
Within the ring, Sword Aura and power felt purer, condensed like frost into crystal; upkeep costs fell as the circle shrank.
Good. Ride this wind and keep pressing.
...
Time slid on, and the Sword Domain shrank to a third of its old span, a steel hoop at my limit; no more compression needed.
Energy and Sword Aura condensed to a new edge, keen as fresh ice; they washed over my wounds like river water, easing fatigue like shade.
I hadn’t known Sword Aura could heal like this; if I’d thought of it earlier, those floors wouldn’t have been so brutal, the climb less steep.
Still, not too late; the fight’s helm is inching my way, a rudder turning. I can block Lixue and still hold breath to counter.
“Hm?”
Was it a trick of the light? Her strikes feel lighter, like rain thinning; is she tired?
No wonder—she throws big techniques each time, waves pounding a cliff; Sword Aura may hold, but flesh tires, and peaks erode.
Good. Opportunity glimmered like a gap in clouds; I can’t miss it.
I knocked aside her attack with a Sword Aura slash, then drew in the dense aura around me, inhaling like a bellows at a forge.
I set to launch the fastest, heaviest technique I’ve mastered, a bolt from a drawn bow.
“Extreme Sword: Shadow of Instant Light!”
The world went white, a blank canvas; my body moved on its own, Shattered Light carving toward Lixue in blinding, untrackable chains of cuts.
Each slash carried a different attribute of Sword Aura, elements braided like color in silk, each bite sharpened by its own hue.
“...”
She knew she couldn’t dodge; she didn’t step away. Instead she raised her twin blades, posture coiling like a spring ready to strike.
“...Dance of Blossoms: Mirror Calm Water.”
I swear I heard running water; Lixue lifted her swords in a tranquil rhythm, slow to the eye yet precise as falling rain.
She intercepted every slash without fail, bleeding Sword Aura off my blade, siphoning power like sand swallowing a wave.
My strength felt strangled, effort drowned; it was like a non-swimmer in open sea, arms heavy, breath swallowed by salt.
If I don’t break this choke, the fight I turned will roll back like a tide; I can’t allow it.
“Break—now!”
I sent everything into Shattered Light, dragging Sword Aura to its edge, then unleashed the final strike of Shadow of Instant Light.
As the blade swung, a white glare flooded the field in a heartbeat, a sunburst; then—crack—like a mirror splitting in winter.
Half a second later, vision returned like dawn. Lixue stood a short distance away, breathing a little harder, calm washed off her face.
Her expression had grown solemn, frost under moonlight; the old serenity was gone.
Looks like I won this exchange.
...
