Time slips grain by grain, like sand through an hourglass; from our first clash to now, over twenty minutes have burned away.

In that span, no matter how Lixue and I struck at Xinyin, our blades skated off like rain on stone; we could barely close.

More than once we were driven to turtle behind steel or vanish like swallows from fire.

Through Sword Intent, I feel Xinyin’s strength fixed at early Lord‑God tier, yet she keeps us under like a tide pressing rocks.

Stamina drains like leaking sand; drag this out and defeat’s a foregone dusk. Even if we can’t win, we should at least fall with grace.

With that thought, I flare Shattered Light’s power. Brilliant gold erupts from the Shattered Light Sword, a sunrise blasting through the furnace, spearing the sky.

Even the Sword Domain firms up like tempered glass, and the Sword Aura it feeds me turns pristinely sharp.

Hah—the feel of that strength is sweet as cold spring water. Pity it won’t last; every heartbeat’s a coin to spend.

No pause. I pack Sword Aura onto my blade, then throw myself at Xinyin, splitting into beams that score the air like comets.

“…So this is an Origin Artifact’s power?” Her murmur rides the firelight. “It’s only a sliver, yet it sits on my chest like a mountain.”

Flames cyclone around her like a crimson typhoon, melting the ice Sword Aura Lixue sends her way.

She raises her long sword, sights on me, and hammers a swing. “Flame Extinction.”

In a blink, my vision is all scalding red, like an oven door flung wide. Then—clang—steel sings, and Xinyin’s stunning face swims into view.

The easy smile is gone, wiped like chalk by rain; even for her, that block wasn’t light.

Four vast fire pillars rip from the ground, then coil into savage serpents, striking like lightning.

“Myriad Swords Unleashed!” I drive every blade within the Sword Domain at them. Sizzle fills the air—Sword Aura melts as the serpents evaporate.

“Ice Moon Feather.” Now! Lixue’s wings beat once; a storm of ice‑crystal feather‑swords floods the sky and crashes toward Xinyin.

“Not bad.” Xinyin smiles as praise, then a cross‑cut shoves me back. She slips a translucent blazing ward over herself to meet that sword‑rain.

I can’t let her have it easy. Hands still tingling, I rally every shred of Sword Aura in the Domain and unleash my peak—Heavenly Sword: Radiance!

A colossal cleave, blazing with gold like a falling sun, tears through the fiery shell and clears Lixue a road.

Clang! This time Xinyin staggers back several steps. With the rain about to break, she smiles, almost fond. “Good—that’s the surge. Then I’ll get serious.”

Scarlet wings bloom behind her—dragon wings, fierce as banners in a gale. One beat, and she slips free of the downpour.

“Ice Moon Scatter.” As if she’d foreseen it, Lixue coolly skews the rain, scattering it wild as blown snow. She follows, a streak of ice‑blue.

I hurry after, shaping Sword Aura into a colossal formless greatblade, all edge and no outline, and chop for Xinyin.

Even she won’t like a pincer like this—so I think, until her sword melts in her hand like wax.

It thins and lengthens, supple as a serpent, yet still a sword—not a whip… a serpent‑belly blade. Shock pricks like ice.

“Flame Dragon.” With dancer’s grace she lashes the slender sword; it becomes a dragon of fire, long and sinuous, roaming the sky.

It surges like a tide and devours the ice‑crystal rain, then walls Lixue off like a burning dam.

My formless greatblade is about to land when my swing seizes; I can’t bring it down. The dragon has it coiled tight.

“Ice Moon Pierce.” Unwilling to yield, Lixue rips for a gap, pushes speed to the limit, and condenses all force to a needle of frost.

Crack—boom. Ice spiderwebs where the dragon’s struck, then bursts. Lixue finally closes on Xinyin.

With Mirror Calm Water footwork, she ghosts past the licking fire and unleashes dozens of ice‑laden cuts.

“Blizzard Phantom Slash.” Faced with that focused fury, Xinyin doesn’t dare slacken. She reels the serpent blade back and restores a longsword to parry.

Freed of its fetters, my formless blade drives on like a falling cliff.

Even while fending Lixue off, Xinyin’s left hand flickers. She condenses several Swords of Law and whips them at the descending greatblade.

A sky‑rending blast blooms, thunder and light braided; using it, she slips Lixue’s snare.

“Whew, that was close. As expected of a Sword Wielder—you’ve pushed me this far.” She appears at a distance, lets out a breath, face bright with open admiration.

Lixue drops back beside me; the crystal wings on her back go to starlight the instant she lands.

“What’s wrong, Lixue?” Her face is pale, and worry rises in me like a tide.

“I’m fine. I burned too much. What’s left can’t keep me aloft.” Her words come with soft breaths, like wind over snow.

No wonder. We can’t use elixirs or potions this fight, so what we spend won’t return—water poured on sand.

And this place is fire’s domain, the inverse of what Lixue trains—oil to her water. She can’t last long.

Truth is, I’m not much better. Shattered Light’s gold is dimming like sunset. At best, two or three minutes more.

“I’m about the same, Lixue. No choice—one last push.” “Mm.”

We meet eyes and nod. No time to idle, no luxury to heal; the tempo’s shifted, and Xinyin holds the initiative.

We barely slip past attacks that bloom from empty air, then split—she keeps pressure from afar, and I tangle Xinyin up close.

Same vow as ever: even if we lose, we won’t lose ugly.

…