Yu Xuan dashed forward, sword drawn, determination etched into his face.
The cheers of the crowd dulled into background noise as he focused on the opponent before him — Ming Tianmei, the enigmatic girl who stood like a painting under moonlight, her black hair swaying like silk, her expression serene and unreadable.
'This won't be easy,' he thought grimly.
Especially not after… that vision.
His grip tightened around the hilt of his blade, a thin layer of sweat already forming across his brow.
He exhaled once, and then struck — clean, swift, decisive — aiming for her neck, the fastest route to victory.
But she moved like flowing water.
Her blade flicked upward, deflecting his strike with delicate ease before rippling into a counterattack.
Silver flashed like moonlight — and Yu Xuan barely managed to parry.
He took three steps back, his boots skidding against the platform.
He gritted his teeth. Her strikes were fast. Really too fast.
They clashed again. Then again.
