Chapter 62: The Challenge at Dawn
Lei Zhenyu remained exactly where he had promised.
Nearly a hundred meters downstream, beneath the broad branches of an ancient willow, the young swordsman sat cross-legged in silent meditation.
The Azure Wolf Consortium remained well within sight.
Close enough that any beast wandering into the area would think twice before approaching.
Far enough that the caravan no longer considered him an immediate threat.
It was a reasonable compromise.
Travelling alone was never truly safe.
Especially not through forests where Foundation Establishment beasts could appear without warning.
Even a genius could be caught by bad luck.
Lei Zhenyu slowly exhaled.
The night breeze carried the scent of the river and damp earth.
His hand rested lightly upon the hilt of his sheathed sword.
His cultivation remained completely suppressed.
That was how most sect disciples travelled.
An exposed aura constantly consumed Ki.
A hidden aura conserved strength.
Besides...
An unknown traveller who looked ordinary often revealed far more about the people around him than one who flaunted his cultivation.
His eyes slowly opened.
His gaze drifted toward the distant campfires.
"Quite an interesting caravan."
He belonged to the Azure Thunder Roc Sect.
Although only a mid-level sect, its legacy stretched back centuries.
Lightning cultivation.
Storm techniques.
Swordsmanship.
These were the three pillars upon which the sect stood.
Lei Zhenyu...
Was the greatest disciple of his generation.
Undefeated.
Every disciple of his age group acknowledged him as number one.
Every elder praised his talent.
He knew he wasn't yet worthy of the title Sword Saint.
Not even close.
But one day...
He intended to surpass them all.
Every Sword Saint.
Every sword genius.
Every legendary master.
His ambition had never been to become the greatest swordsman of his sect.
Or even of his kingdom.
He sought something much larger.
He wanted to reach the summit of the sword path.
Not merely to inherit the Azure Thunder Roc Sword...
But to create a style that every future sword cultivator would be forced to acknowledge.
That dream had driven him onto the road.
This journey was his coming-of-age trial.
Not assigned by the sect.
Chosen by himself.
Every worthy opponent would become another whetstone for his blade.
Every duel...
Another step toward the summit.
The conversation with the caravan still lingered in his thoughts.
While speaking with the elderly captain, he had quietly observed the escorts.
Good posture.
Disciplined breathing.
Relaxed shoulders.
No unnecessary movement.
These were not ordinary caravan guards.
Several possessed the calm confidence of experienced veterans.
"Interesting..."
Even more interesting...
They recognized the Azure Thunder Roc Sect immediately.
Yet they showed not the slightest trace of respect.
Only annoyance.
Lei Zhenyu frowned.
"Have they fought our disciples before?"
"Or perhaps they had some unpleasant experience with one of the elders."
Either way...
Their attitude irritated him.
Cultivators should seek improvement.
Strength.
Glory.
Not spend decades escorting merchant wagons.
To him...
That seemed like such a waste.
"Such talent..."
"...reduced to ordinary guard duty."
He could not understand choosing duty over the summit.
A cultivator possessed only one lifetime. Why spend it protecting merchant ledgers and cargo when the sword path stretched endlessly ahead?
His own elders had warned him before he entered Lord Shen's territory.
"Do not fight the Wolf Brigade as a group."
"They're troublesome."
"Disciplined."
"Stubborn."
"They fight like wolves."
He hadn't believed the warning exaggerated.
Still...
If the caravan contained such capable people...
Surely they would welcome friendly sparring.
What better way to sharpen one's skills?
Morning sunlight slowly filtered through the trees.
Mist drifted above the river.
The merchants finished breakfast before beginning another day's preparations.
Lei Zhenyu brushed a few fallen leaves from his robes.
Then calmly walked toward the camp once more.
This time...
He stopped well outside the wolves' marked boundary.
He cupped his fists respectfully.
"My apologies for disturbing everyone again."
"My name is Lei Zhenyu of the Azure Thunder Roc Sect."
"I wish to formally request a friendly duel."
Several guards exchanged amused looks.
Elder Ruan Zhentian looked up from his bowl of porridge.
Disciples of the Azure Thunder Roc Sect were famous for challenging strangers. Their cultivation doctrine taught that lightning stagnated when contained and swordsmanship dulled without opposition.
Admirable in theory.
Exhausting on trade roads.
"...No."
Lei Zhenyu blinked.
"No?"
"Our guards are working."
"They're not here to entertain wandering swordsmen."
Lei Zhenyu remained polite.
"It would only take a short while."
"It isn't the time."
"We have schedules."
"Merchants."
"Cargo."
"Security."
"We don't stop an entire caravan because a young man wishes to compare swords."
Lei Zhenyu tried another approach.
"I have enough control to prevent serious injury."
The words had barely left his mouth before Elder Ruan's expression darkened.
"What did you just say?"
The young swordsman hesitated.
"I said I won't—"
"I heard you."
Ruan slowly stood.
His weathered eyes fixed firmly upon Lei Zhenyu.
"You won't hurt them?"
His voice had become noticeably colder.
"Do you even understand what a battle is?"
Lei Zhenyu remained silent.
Ruan continued.
"When two cultivators of similar strength cross weapons..."
"...no one controls everything."
"A foot slips. A technique changes. Someone reveals a move the other person has never seen."
"A wrist breaks. An eye is lost. A meridian tears."
His gaze hardened.
"And occasionally, someone dies while everyone insists it was only supposed to be a friendly exchange."
He pointed toward the guards.
"My people have families."
"They've bled beside one another for years."
"They're not toys for your cultivation journey."
"They don't gamble with injuries simply because you're confident."
The camp became completely silent.
Lei Zhenyu listened respectfully...
But inwardly, he wasn't convinced.
"Equal strength?"
These men were undoubtedly experienced.
Against beasts.
Against bandits.
Against ordinary opponents.
But swordsmanship?
That was different.
His entire life revolved around the blade.
Years spent under masters who had devoted themselves to nothing else.
He had crossed swords with every notable disciple his sect could find.
Could ordinary caravan guards truly compare?
He wisely kept those thoughts to himself.
The old captain already seemed one sentence away from throwing him back into the forest.
Nearby...
Yun Che quietly finished the last bite of his breakfast.
He had listened to the entire exchange with growing interest.
This was the first major sect disciple he had encountered since leaving Mistforge.
A genuine genius.
Someone raised within an established cultivation sect.
Someone who represented the wider world beyond the Land of Clouds.
His curiosity won.
He stood.
"Elder."
Ruan looked toward him.
"What?"
Yun Che scratched the back of his head.
"How about I spar with him?"
Several merchants immediately looked over.
Even Lei Zhenyu raised an eyebrow.
Ruan studied Yun Che for several long moments.
Then...
His stern expression softened ever so slightly.
Ruan studied Yun Che's tired eyes.
"You are not one of my guards. I cannot order you to refuse a personal challenge."
He looked toward the half-packed wagons.
"But you will not delay this caravan."
"One incense stick. Elder Liang and I supervise. The moment either of us decides the exchange has become dangerous, it ends."
His gaze shifted toward Lei Zhenyu.
"Do you accept?"
"I do."
A grin slowly spread across Lei Zhenyu's face.
At last.
Someone had accepted.
Lei Zhenyu's eyes moved toward the sword at Yun Che's waist, then toward the faint pressure of Foundation Establishment surrounding him.
Perhaps this journey would finally offer something interesting.
Across the camp, Amon lazily lifted his head from beside the wagon, sensing that breakfast had just become far more interesting.
----------------------
The clearing lay only a short walk from the river.
Morning mist still lingered between the trees, drifting lazily through shafts of sunlight that filtered down from the forest canopy. Dew sparkled upon the grass, and the occasional chirping bird seemed blissfully unaware that two Foundation Establishment cultivators were about to test one another's skills.
The members of the Azure Wolf Consortium spread out naturally around the edge of the clearing.
No one stood too close.
No one spoke.
Elder Ruan Zhentian folded his arms, while Elder Liang Wen remained beside him, his expression as unreadable as ever.
Both men were less interested in the outcome than in ensuring the duel remained a duel.
Lei Zhenyu slowly approached the center of the clearing.
His gaze almost drifted toward the young tailor seated near the wagons.
Lei Zhenyu stopped himself.
He had already embarrassed himself once that night. He had no intention of doing it again.
Only now did he truly observe his opponent.
Yun Che was dressed unlike any cultivator he had ever met. Instead of flowing robes, he wore fitted black trousers reinforced for movement, sturdy boots, a close-fitting black shirt, and a crimson jacket whose cut emphasized practicality rather than ceremony.
The outfit looked unusual.
Foreign.
Almost military.
Lei Zhenyu's gaze shifted toward the sword at Yun Che's waist.
A swordsman.
Naturally.
Anyone carrying a blade that comfortably probably relied upon it.
The two stopped roughly five meters apart.
Lei Zhenyu cupped his fists.
"Azure Thunder Roc Sect."
"Lei Zhenyu."
Yun Che returned the gesture.
"Yun Che."
There was a brief pause.
Lei waited.
Yun Che smiled politely.
"I'm a blacksmith."
"And a hunter."
Lei Zhenyu blinked.
"A blacksmith?"
"I am."
"Interesting."
There was not the slightest trace of mockery in his voice.
"If your sword survives your own forging..."
"...it should be worth respecting."
Yun Che chuckled.
"I certainly hope so."
Neither moved.
The morning breeze passed quietly between them.
Then pieces of polished armor floated out of Yun Che's storage bracelet.
Click.
Click.
Click.
One plate after another settled perfectly into place around his body.
Shoulder guards.
Forearm plates.
Greaves.
Chest armor.
Each piece locked into position without Yun Che touching it.
Lei Zhenyu's eyebrows rose.
"Telekinesis."
"I've never seen someone dress themselves with it."
Above Yun Che, Mirage fluttered into view.
The Azure Mirage Butterfly circled lazily overhead, her crystal-blue wings shimmering beneath the morning light.
Lei glanced upward.
"A spirit beast?"
"My partner."
"Will she participate?"
Yun Che nodded.
"She's part of how I fight."
Lei Zhenyu considered that.
Then he smiled.
"Then this is not merely a sword duel."
"No."
Yun Che's hand settled near his sword.
"It's a hunt."
Elder Ruan snorted.
"Good. At least both of you understand the rules before someone complains afterward."
He stepped forward.
"This is a friendly duel."
"No killing."
"No crippling injuries."
"The moment I say stop..."
"You stop."
Both young cultivators nodded.
The old captain stepped backward.
"Begin."
Mirage moved first.
Her wings flashed.
A ripple spread through the clearing.
The real Yun Che vanished.
Another Yun Che remained standing exactly where he had been.
The illusion was flawless.
Even breathing.
Even subtle shifts in posture.
Lei Zhenyu smiled.
"Interesting."
His pupils suddenly glowed faintly with azure lightning.
The world before him sharpened.
Mist separated from shadow.
Shadow separated from movement.
Movement separated from deception.
The illusion cracked apart in his sight like thin glass.
Found you.
Thunder exploded beneath his feet.
The ground cracked.
Lei Zhenyu vanished.
To most of the watching merchants, it seemed as though he had simply disappeared from one place and appeared in another.
But Yun Che saw more.
A flash of blue.
A bend in the mist.
The sudden tightening of Lei's shoulder.
The first strike descended.
Not like an ordinary sword slash.
Like a bird of prey diving from storm clouds.
The blade came from above at a steep angle, wrapped in crackling azure lightning. It carried the sharpness of a sword, the momentum of a falling hawk, and the sudden pressure of thunder breaking overhead.
Azure Roc First Descent.
Clang!
Yun Che blocked.
Sparks scattered across the clearing.
The force drove his boots half an inch into the damp earth.
Lei Zhenyu's eyes brightened.
He caught it.
His wrist turned.
The sword rebounded upward, then curved back down from the opposite side.
The movement was not circular.
It was winglike.
One strike became two.
Two became four.
Each slash folded into the next with the rhythm of beating wings.
Stormwing Chain.
Left.
Right.
High.
Low.
A diagonal cut suddenly became a thrust.
A thrust suddenly became a rising slash.
Lightning snapped along the blade with every change of direction, leaving afterimages in the shape of feathered arcs.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Yun Che retreated one step at a time.
His expression remained calm.
Inside, his mind had already entered a different state.
Ki Zone.
The clearing unfolded around him.
Not as sight alone.
As pressure.
Rhythm.
Intent.
Lei Zhenyu's foot placement.
The angle of his hips.
The shifting grip on his sword.
The brief contraction of muscle before each strike.
His opponent was unquestionably the superior swordsman.
Cleaner.
Sharper.
More refined.
Lei's sword did not waste motion. Every slash carried purpose, and every recovery became the beginning of the next attack.
Without Ki Zone...
Yun Che knew he would already have lost.
Instead, he matched each strike with the smallest movement necessary.
No flourish.
No contest of elegance.
Only survival.
Lei Zhenyu's excitement grew with every blocked attack.
He's reading me.
His sword flashed again.
This time, his body moved with it.
He stepped left.
Then right.
Then upward.
For one impossible instant, lightning gathered beneath his soles and lifted him above the ground. His body twisted in midair, robes snapping like wings.
His sword came down in three overlapping arcs.
One from the left.
One from the right.
One directly above.
Threefold Thunder Roc Dive.
Lin Xia's eyes widened.
To her, it looked as though three swords had attacked at once.
Yun Che's Ki Zone screamed.
The left was false.
The right was delayed.
The attack from above was real.
He raised his sword.
Clang!
The impact forced his knees to bend.
Before he could fully recover, Lei Zhenyu landed lightly, spun on one heel, and sent a horizontal slash racing toward Yun Che's waist.
The blade did not touch the ground.
Yet the grass beneath it split apart.
A line of lightning carved through the dew.
Yun Che leapt back.
The attack missed by less than a finger's width.
Lei Zhenyu smiled.
Then his sword vanished into its sheath.
The clearing went still.
Yun Che's pupils narrowed.
A drawing technique?
Lei Zhenyu's aura compressed.
The mist around him trembled.
Lightning gathered around the sheath, not loudly, but tightly, like a storm trapped inside a single breath.
Then his thumb moved.
Silver-blue light flashed.
Thunder Roc Severing Feather.
The draw cut crossed the space between them almost instantly.
It was thin.
Silent.
Terrifying.
Not a wide slash.
Not a dramatic wave of energy.
A single feather of lightning, sharpened until it could split stone.
Yun Che twisted sideways.
The edge grazed his chest armor.
Screech!
A long white mark appeared across the plate.
The armor held.
Barely.
Lei Zhenyu noticed.
His expression shifted from excitement to respect.
"That armor is excellent."
"I made it myself."
"Then your skill deserves praise."
"Thanks."
Yun Che exhaled slowly.
His left hand moved almost imperceptibly.
While retreating, blocking, twisting, and dodging, he had been working.
One wire had already reached a nearby tree.
Then another.
Then five.
Then ten.
Thin steel threads stretched through the clearing, nearly invisible beneath the drifting morning mist. Dew flashed upon grass. Mirage's wings scattered faint distortions through the air. Each sword clash sent sparks and tiny ripples of Ki across the battlefield.
The wires became one more shimmer among many.
Lei Zhenyu did not notice.
Not because he was careless.
Because Yun Che had given him exactly what he wanted.
A sword that could follow him.
A mind that could read him.
An opponent who stood his ground longer than any young cultivator had since he left the sect.
Lei's world narrowed.
His sword.
Yun Che's sword.
The space between them.
Nothing else.
Elder Ruan's eyes sharpened slightly.
"Hm."
Elder Liang closed his ledger.
"So that's what he's doing."
Lei Zhenyu suddenly stepped forward again.
This time his footwork changed.
The straight-line bursts vanished.
His movement became jagged.
Unpredictable.
He flickered around Yun Che like lightning leaping between storm clouds.
Forward.
Sideways.
Backward.
Forward again.
His sword struck from angles that seemed impossible for a human wrist.
High right.
Low left.
Thrust.
Reverse slash.
Half-step feint.
Draw cut.
Every strike carried the image of an azure roc diving, folding its wings, twisting through thunder, then opening them again at the last possible moment.
Azure Roc Hunts the Storm.
Yun Che gave ground faster now.
His breathing grew heavier.
Lei's speed had increased again.
Even Ki Zone struggled to keep up.
A cut slipped past Yun Che's guard and struck his shoulder plate.
Clang!
Another scraped along his thigh guard.
A third nearly reached his ribs before he knocked it aside.
Lei Zhenyu's eyes blazed with fierce joy.
"Yes!"
His sword rose.
Lightning exploded around him.
The mist scattered outward.
Above his head, for a brief instant, Ki formed the vague silhouette of an enormous azure roc spreading its wings.
The pressure in the clearing changed.
Even the Frost Wolves lifted their heads.
Lei Zhenyu's blade descended.
Not toward Yun Che's body.
Toward the ground before him.
Azure Thunder Roc Suppresses the Earth.
The sword struck.
Thunder erupted.
The clearing shook as lightning burst outward in a fan-shaped wave.
Yun Che's hidden wires trembled violently.
Several nearly snapped.
His eyes narrowed.
Dangerous.
If that technique spread any wider, the trap would be destroyed before it closed.
He could not keep retreating.
He needed to end it.
His arms were beginning to numb from repeated impacts.
Ki Zone showed him where every strike was coming.
It did not give his body unlimited speed with which to answer.
Lei Zhenyu dashed through the fading thunder, sword already moving into another strike.
Yun Che blocked once.
Clang!
Twice.
Clang!
The third strike came from below, aimed at his wrist.
Yun Che shifted his sword just enough to catch it.
Their blades locked.
For one heartbeat, they stood face to face.
Lei Zhenyu smiled.
"You are good."
"You're better with the sword."
"I know."
Yun Che smiled back.
"That's why I'm not trying to beat your sword."
Lei Zhenyu's instincts screamed.
Something was wrong.
His eyes flicked toward the clearing.
Too late.
Yun Che's left hand opened.
Telekinesis surged outward.
Not a pull.
A push.
An invisible wave slammed into Lei Zhenyu's chest.
Lei's eyes widened.
His feet left the ground.
The force was not enough to injure him.
Not enough to break bone.
Not enough to end the fight by itself.
But it did exactly what Yun Che wanted.
It forced him backward.
Three meters.
Directly into the space Yun Che had prepared.
Lei Zhenyu twisted in midair, trying to regain balance.
His sword moved.
Wind Ki gathered around the blade.
He was already preparing to cut whatever came next.
But the wires moved first.
Yun Che's fingers clenched.
Telekinesis raced through every hidden thread.
The steel wires snapped upward from grass, branches, stones, and tree trunks.
One wrapped around Lei's sword arm.
Another caught his ankle.
Two crossed behind his knees.
Three tightened across his waist and shoulders.
The rest locked together like a hunter's net closing around struggling prey.
Lei hit the ground on one knee.
His sword froze halfway through a cutting motion.
For a fraction of a second, wind Ki trembled along the edge of his blade.
Then Yun Che moved.
One silent step.
Then another.
His sword stopped less than an inch from Lei Zhenyu's throat.
The polished edge reflected the stunned expression in the young swordsman's eyes.
Silence filled the clearing.
Lei Zhenyu stared at the wires.
Then at Yun Che.
Then back at the wires.
Slowly, understanding arrived.
He had not lost because his sword was weaker.
He had not lost because his movement was slower.
He had lost because for one glorious moment, he had forgotten the world contained more than blades.
A faint, bitter smile crossed his face.
"So..."
"This is why hunters survive."
Yun Che lowered his sword.
Lei Zhenyu looked up.
"The first time I have ever fought someone using wires."
"And the first time I have seen someone react to my sword without panicking."
He took a slow breath.
"There was a mistake."
"My mistake."
His gaze sharpened again.
"I do not accept this as the end."
Around the clearing, no one interrupted.
The request was calm.
Respectful.
Completely unlike the proud young man from the previous night.
Lei Zhenyu bowed his head slightly.
"Yun Che."
"Please give me another chance."