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Chapter 18 - A majestic dance

Sirius looked at the innkeeper with caution, yet also with excitement. It was his first real battle. His opponent wasn't just stronger, he was two full stages above, and far more experienced. Sirius, on the other hand, had none.

His dao sword was longer than Sirius's Hendirun saber, and also heavier. That meant his attacks would be hard to block. On top of that, his experience likely meant he had more movements in his techniques, maybe even more than one technique. That was truly terrifying.

They stood about five meters apart. The sun was dipping below the horizon, twilight had arrived. A cold breeze swept across the courtyard, piercing their bodies like thin needles. The wind was heavy.

Then, in a blink, the innkeeper closed the distance and swung his dao sword at Sirius's ribs. Sirius stepped back and countered by swinging his saber toward the innkeeper's eyes, aiming to blind him.

The innkeeper raised his sword. Blade met blade. Though Sirius's saber was faster, the dao sword's weight overwhelmed it. The saber was knocked aside, and Sirius retreated again, five meters separated them once more.

Cycle-Ending Bloom, fifth movement: Step Burst.

Sirius dashed forward in a flash and slashed diagonally, aiming for the innkeeper's shoulder. The innkeeper jumped, countering mid-air with a powerful downward strike toward Sirius's head.

Cycle-Ending Bloom, sixth movement: Cleave Up.

Sirius raised his saber upward from lower left, clashing against the descending sword. This time, the innkeeper had no foothold. He was in mid-air, vulnerable.

The saber cut through the path of the sword, continuing toward the man's head. But just before the strike could land, the innkeeper did something unbelievable: he grabbed the saber mid-air with his bare left hand. Holding his dao sword in his right, he stopped Sirius cold.

Then, he smiled.

"That's the difference between early and late stage, junior."

H-How did he just grab my sword like that? I used all my strength! I need to move! Now!

Until now, Sirius's internal energy had been limited to his upper daitan and his head. But now, guided by desperation, it flowed into his right arm, following his will.

He felt it, the rush of inert energy surging into his limb.

With all his strength, Sirius launched:

Cycle-Ending Bloom, fourth movement: Spiral Lunge.

He leapt forward and began spinning, his saber, still gripped by the innkeeper, twisting with him. The force tore into the man's hand, finally forcing him to release his grip.

Sirius smiled at the sight. The innkeeper, surprised, laughed softly.

"Well played, junior."

They were close, far too close. Despite wielding a heavier sword, the innkeeper was still faster. He began spinning and slashing, one of the dao sword's most dangerous traits: rotational strikes. Deadly if not interrupted.

Though they were using wooden weapons, Sirius knew, this would still hurt.

Only if Sirius was struck.

Sirius stared at the dao sword, time slowing. He could follow the blade even though it was moving over forty kilometers per hour. He could see the path in detail.

He lowered himself.

Cycle-Ending Bloom, seventh movement—Chain Thrust.

In the weakest moment of the innkeeper's rotation, Sirius struck five times at his abdomen. It should have done some damage, but the innkeeper's body was so solid it was like hitting a rock. He looked perfectly fine.

In that moment of surprise, as Sirius hit the innkeeper, he saw the sword coming for his left arm. He knew he couldn't stop the strike, nor could he escape. His internal energy flowed into his left arm. He had no choice but to take the hit.

The dao sword struck the young man's left arm. Pain surged. He winced, then took several steps back. He needed time to process the pain. He also started to feel tired, the battle was pumping a lot of energy.

But the innkeeper saw it, and took a step forward, aiming to strike his junior at the ribs.

"It's the moment," he thought.

Yet his eyes widened in shock.

The child dodged the attack by jumping. It was obvious he had infused his legs with internal energy, such a jump wasn't possible without. Yet, at the start of the battle, he had no idea how to do such a thing.

The young man in front of him was learning at an insane pace. By the end of this fight, he might already reach the mid-stage.

"Such a monster," the innkeeper thought.

Sirius, still in the air, continued to fight with determination.

Cycle-Ending Bloom, first movement, Falling Edge.

His saber swung downward. The innkeeper dodged and counterattacked. Sirius reacted and moved his sword to block.

Yet because the sword was heavier, Sirius was pushed back three steps.

The combat continued. The innkeeper was stronger, faster, and more experienced. But Sirius was more agile and had a better sense of the fight, allowing him to fight someone two stages above.

But if the fight kept going like this, it would end in Sirius's defeat. The gap was too wide.

A young woman passed not far from the fight. She heard sounds coming from behind the inn and decided to glance before leaving.

It was the same girl who had sold bread to Sirius three days earlier.

She kept walking toward the sound. She was curious, after all, how could she not throw a glance? Yet when she saw the scene, she fell to the ground, unable to stand.

Under the twilight of the setting sun, a young man with long red hair was in the air. His hair swayed under the cool evening breeze, and his black and golden hanfu, majestic as a king's robe, fluttered in the wind.

He wore a wide smile as he struck forward with a majestic saber. An emerald gem sparkled from the hilt.

His opponent, a middle-aged man with short black hair hidden by the approaching night, wore a green changshan. The man smiled as well.

He stood on the ground with a large sword in his hand. Although the sword seemed to be designed to be held with one hand, he gripped it with both, as one was not enough. He began to rotate, preparing to face the young man and swung his sword.

Their shadows stretched across the ground, immense and distorted by the twilight. One looked like a monster, the other a giant with a disproportionate blade.

Saber and sword collided with a loud bang. The air stirred. No one had won that clash.

Both men smiled at the result. Then, the young man, now on the ground again, and the middle-aged man began to swing their blades once more.

They were graceful, as if they were dancing instead of fighting.

They both laughed.

And the battle continued.

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