The clash continued.
**CLANG!**
Lían's sword was forced aside.
The copy immediately followed with another strike.
Lían ducked.
The blade passed over his head.
He stepped forward.
His short sword thrust toward the copy's chest.
The copy shifted sideways.
The blade missed.
A kick slammed into Lían's stomach.
His small body was sent flying backward.
He landed on the surface of the water, his feet skidding across it.
Before he could fully regain his balance—
the copy was already there.
Its sword descended.
Lían's eyes narrowed.
His body moved on instinct.
**CLANG!**
He raised his sword just in time.
The impact drove him several steps backward.
Yet his feet remained firmly planted on the surface of the water.
He didn't fall.
He didn't retreat any farther.
Instead—
he stared at the copy's sword.
*...Too fast.*
The copy attacked again.
Lían blocked.
Again.
**CLANG!**
Again.
**CLANG!**
Each collision forced his arms lower.
His wrists gradually became numb.
His breathing grew heavier.
His shoulders began to ache.
But—
he continued watching.
Not the sword.
The body.
The shoulders.
The waist.
The feet.
Even the smallest movements.
Then—
the copy's right foot shifted.
Lían's pupils contracted.
*There.*
The sword came.
Lían didn't block.
He stepped forward.
The blade passed beside his body.
At the same instant—
his own sword moved.
**SHING!**
The blade cut through the copy's sleeve.
A thin line appeared across its arm.
The copy immediately retreated.
Lían remained where he was.
His chest rose and fell heavily.
His eyes remained fixed upon the cut.
Silence.
Then—
the copy looked at him.
"...You saw it."
Lían nodded slightly.
"I saw your movement."
The copy tilted its head.
"Not the sword?"
"...No."
A faint smile appeared on the copy's face.
"Good."
It raised its sword once more.
"But seeing it..."
"...isn't enough."
The copy disappeared.
Lían's expression changed.
He immediately turned.
The blade came from behind.
He twisted his body.
The sword grazed his side.
Blood spilled across the water.
Lían gritted his teeth.
Instead of retreating—
he stepped into the attack.
His short sword swung toward the copy's neck.
The copy bent backward.
The blade passed over its throat by a hair.
Its knee slammed into Lían's stomach.
His body bent forward.
The copy's sword immediately came down.
Lían raised his own sword.
**CLANG!**
The impact nearly knocked the weapon from his hand.
He tightened his grip.
*Don't panic.*
The copy pushed harder.
*Watch.*
Lían's eyes remained fixed on the copy.
*Don't think about the pain.*
The copy's wrist shifted.
*There.*
Lían suddenly released the pressure against the opposing blade.
His sword lowered.
The copy's blade slid past him.
Lían stepped inside its guard.
His short sword thrust forward.
The copy twisted its body.
The blade pierced its shoulder.
Silence.
Lían froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
He had done it.
He had actually struck it.
The copy glanced down at the sword embedded in its shoulder.
Then—
it looked back at Lían.
"...Better."
Lían slowly pulled his sword free.
His breathing was heavy.
A strange excitement flickered within his eyes.
"...I'm getting it."
The copy nodded.
"But you're still relying too much on reacting."
Lían blinked.
"...What?"
"You wait for me to move."
The copy raised its sword.
"...Then you respond."
Lían remained silent.
The copy continued.
"That's useful."
"But against someone stronger..."
"...it may already be too late."
Lían's expression became serious.
The copy slowly lowered its sword.
"You need to begin seeing the attack before it happens."
Lían stared at it.
"...How?"
The copy remained silent for a moment.
Then—
it answered.
"...There's something you keep forgetting."
Lían remained on guard.
"What?"
The copy looked directly at him.
"...I'm you."
Lían blinked.
The copy continued.
"...Everything I can do right now..."
"...You can do as well."
Silence.
Lían stared at it.
The copy raised its sword slightly.
"Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm stronger than you."
"...Or faster."
"...Or more skilled."
"Every movement you've seen me perform..."
"...is something your own body is capable of."
Lían's expression slowly changed.
The copy continued.
"You've spent all this time watching how I fight."
"...That's useful."
"But it's not enough."
The copy lowered its sword completely.
"Now..."
"...watch something else."
Lían frowned.
"What?"
"Your energy."
Silence.
The copy's body suddenly became translucent.
Its entire form gradually faded until only a faint outline remained.
Within that outline—
spiritual energy became visible.
It flowed through the body like countless streams of light.
Starting from the center.
Moving through the meridians.
Circulating through the limbs.
Gathering around the shoulders.
Flowing into the arm.
Then—
into the sword.
Every movement of the body caused the energy to shift.
Every step redirected its flow.
Every change in posture altered its distribution.
Lían stared.
His eyes widened slightly.
"..."
The copy moved.
Its foot stepped forward.
At the same moment—
the spiritual energy within its body shifted.
A portion flowed toward its legs.
Another portion remained centered within the dantian.
Then—
as the sword began to rise—
the energy changed again.
It flowed through the waist.
Into the shoulder.
Down the arm.
And finally—
into the blade.
The entire process happened almost simultaneously.
The copy swung.
The sword cut through the air.
But Lían wasn't watching the sword anymore.
His eyes followed the energy.
The flow.
The transitions.
The way everything connected.
The copy stopped.
"You see it?"
Lían remained silent.
His gaze stayed fixed upon the translucent figure.
"...The energy moves before the attack."
"Not exactly."
The copy shook its head.
"The movement and the energy aren't separate."
"...They work together."
It raised its arm again.
"Your body moves."
"The energy follows."
"Then the energy moves."
"The body follows."
"It isn't simply about sending spiritual energy into your arm and swinging."
The copy's gaze sharpened.
"Every movement has a flow."
"Every attack has a path."
"Every change in direction requires the energy to change with it."
Lían slowly lowered his sword.
His thoughts raced.
*So that's why...*
*Sometimes my movements feel stiff.*
*Sometimes my energy feels like it's lagging behind.*
*I thought it was because I wasn't skilled enough.*
The copy looked directly at him.
"...You've been trying to control your energy separately from your movements."
Lían froze.
The copy continued.
"Stop doing that."
"Your energy is part of the movement."
"...Not something you add afterward."
Lían stared at the translucent figure.
He slowly raised his sword.
Then—
he took a step.
His spiritual energy immediately began circulating.
This time—
he didn't force it.
He observed.
His leg moved.
The energy shifted.
His waist turned.
The flow changed.
His arm moved forward.
The energy followed the motion.
Lían's eyes widened.
"...I can feel it."
The copy nodded.
"Good."
"Now do it again."
Lían took another step.
Then another.
Each time—
he watched the movement of his own spiritual energy.
Not the sword.
Not the opponent.
Not the attack.
His own body.
His own energy.
His own flow.
The copy remained silent.
Watching.
After several moments—
it finally spoke.
"...Now you're actually learning."
The copy's blade suddenly flashed.
Lían barely managed to raise his sword.
**CLANG!**
The impact forced his blade downward.
The copy immediately followed with another strike.
Lían twisted his body.
The sword passed beside his neck.
He stepped forward.
His sword rose—
but the copy's blade suddenly changed direction halfway through the movement.
**SHHK—**
Darkness.
---
When Lían's consciousness returned—
the endless white remained unchanged.
The battle continued.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Lían's movements gradually became sharper.
His sword no longer moved purely according to instinct.
He watched.
He listened.
He observed the flow of spiritual energy within his opponent.
Every movement began with something.
A shift of energy.
A change in posture.
A subtle alteration in breathing.
Nothing happened without a reason.
Yet—
the copy remained his exact reflection.
Everything Lían learned—
the copy already knew.
Everything Lían could do—
the copy could do as well.
There was no shortcut.
Only experience.
Only repetition.
Only learning.
---
**CLANG!**
Lían's sword collided with the copy's.
Their blades slid against one another.
Lían twisted his wrist.
The copy immediately adjusted.
Their shoulders passed.
Lían stepped forward.
A horizontal slash.
The copy ducked.
Lían followed with a thrust.
The copy shifted sideways.
Its blade flashed.
Lían raised his sword.
**CLANG!**
The impact forced him backward.
He steadied himself.
His eyes remained fixed on the copy.
*Energy...*
He could see it now.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
The spiritual energy within the copy flowed through its body.
Before every movement—
there was a change.
Before every attack—
there was a gathering.
Before every change in direction—
the flow shifted.
Lían's eyes narrowed.
*There.*
The copy's spiritual energy suddenly concentrated around its right arm.
Lían moved.
The sword swept past his face.
He had avoided it.
For the first time—
he had reacted before the attack was fully formed.
The copy's eyes narrowed slightly.
Lían didn't hesitate.
He stepped forward.
His sword thrust toward its chest.
The copy twisted.
The blade missed.
Its knee slammed into Lían's stomach.
His body bent forward.
The copy's sword flashed.
Darkness.
---
Lían appeared again.
He immediately dropped into a crouch.
One hand pressed against the water.
He breathed heavily.
"...Almost."
His eyes remained fixed on the copy.
"...I almost got it."
The copy stood several meters away.
Its sword rested loosely in its hand.
It didn't praise him.
It didn't criticize him.
It simply watched.
Lían slowly stood.
His breathing steadied.
His grip tightened around the sword.
*I saw the movement.*
*I saw the energy gather.*
*But I was too slow.*
He raised his eyes.
The copy suddenly moved.
Lían launched forward.
Their swords collided.
**CLANG!**
The sound echoed across the endless white.
Lían's feet slid across the water.
He twisted his blade.
The copy followed.
Another clash.
**CLANG!**
Another.
**CLANG!**
Lían suddenly changed his rhythm.
The copy's sword passed beside him.
Lían stepped inside its guard.
His blade rose.
The copy's eyes widened slightly.
For a fraction of a second—
Lían saw the opening.
*There!*
He swung.
The copy twisted.
The blade barely missed.
Its sword immediately turned.
Lían's pupils contracted.
He attempted to retreat.
Too late.
The blade passed through his chest.
Darkness.
---
Lían appeared again.
He remained still for a moment.
Then—
he slowly exhaled.
"...Again."
The copy raised its sword.
"...Again."
Lían charged.
**CLANG!**
Their blades collided.
This time—
Lían immediately felt the difference.
He wasn't simply watching the copy anymore.
He was watching everything.
The shift of its weight.
The movement of its feet.
The rotation of its waist.
The tension gathering within its muscles.
And beneath all of it—
the flow of spiritual energy.
The copy's sword pressed against his.
Lían's wrists trembled.
He didn't force the blade away.
Instead—
he adjusted his grip.
His spiritual energy flowed through his arm.
He felt the movement.
He felt the change.
Then—
he redirected the force.
The copy's sword slid away from his blade.
Lían stepped forward.
His short sword swept toward its shoulder.
The copy twisted.
The blade cut through its robe.
A shallow wound appeared.
Lían's eyes sharpened.
He followed immediately.
A second slash.
The copy blocked.
**CLANG!**
A third.
The copy retreated.
For the first time—
Lían pursued.
Not recklessly.
Not blindly.
Every step carried purpose.
His feet touched the water.
A thin current formed beneath each step.
His spiritual energy flowed naturally through his body.
The movement of his body and the movement of his energy were no longer completely separate.
They were beginning to merge.
The copy suddenly lunged.
Lían's eyes narrowed.
He saw the energy gathering around its shoulder.
*Now.*
He moved before the sword was fully raised.
**CLANG!**
His blade intercepted the attack.
The impact still forced him backward—
but this time—
he was prepared for it.
His feet slid across the water.
He immediately regained his balance.
The copy's sword changed direction.
Lían followed the movement.
Their blades crossed again.
**CLANG!**
Lían twisted his wrist.
The copy adjusted.
Lían stepped sideways.
The sword passed beside his chest.
He rotated his waist.
His sword followed the movement.
**SHING!**
The blade cut across the copy's sleeve.
The copy retreated.
Lían remained standing.
His breathing was heavy.
His heart pounded against his chest.
Yet—
his eyes were brighter than before.
*I'm beginning to understand.*
Not the sword.
Not simply the movements.
Not even the spiritual energy alone.
Everything.
The body.
The energy.
The sword.
The opponent.
They were all connected.
One movement created another.
One shift led to another.
There was a flow.
A rhythm.
A chain of actions.
And if he could understand that chain—
he could predict what came next.
The copy stared at him.
For several breaths—
neither moved.
Then the copy smiled faintly.
"...You're finally starting to see it."
Lían tightened his grip around his sword.
"...Yeah."
He took a slow breath.
"...I can see it."
The copy raised its blade.
"But seeing it..."
"...still isn't enough."
Lían's eyes narrowed.
"I know."
The copy disappeared.
Lían immediately followed the shift in spiritual energy.
His body moved before his mind could fully process it.
**CLANG!**
The sword struck his blade.
Lían twisted.
The copy changed direction.
He followed.
Their blades collided again.
**CLANG!**
The copy stepped forward.
Lían stepped backward.
A thrust.
Lían shifted his body.
A slash.
He ducked.
Another strike.
He blocked.
**CLANG!**
His arms trembled.
But he didn't panic.
He didn't run.
He didn't close his eyes.
He watched.
The copy's energy shifted.
Lían reacted.
His sword moved.
The copy's blade was redirected.
Lían stepped inside.
His short sword thrust forward.
The copy twisted away.
Lían immediately changed the angle.
The blade followed.
The copy raised its sword.
**CLANG!**
The two blades locked.
Their faces were only a short distance apart.
Lían's breathing was ragged.
The copy's expression remained calm.
For a brief moment—
neither moved.
Then Lían's eyes narrowed.
He felt it.
A slight shift.
The spiritual energy within the copy was moving.
Not toward the arm.
Toward the leg.
*It's going to move.*
Lían released the pressure against the locked blades.
He stepped sideways.
The copy's foot swept through the space where he had been standing.
Lían's eyes widened.
*I predicted it.*
He immediately countered.
His sword swept upward.
The copy barely managed to block.
**CLANG!**
The impact sent both of them backward.
Lían landed firmly on the water.
His chest heaved.
He stared at the copy.
The copy lowered its sword slightly.
"...Better."
Lían's lips curled into a faint smile.
"...I'm getting closer."
The copy nodded.
"Then keep going."
Lían raised his sword.
His stance lowered.
His feet settled firmly against the surface of the water.
His spiritual energy circulated through his body.
This time—
he didn't force it.
He allowed it to move naturally with him.
The copy raised its sword.
Lían's gaze sharpened.
Neither spoke.
Neither moved.
Then—
both figures disappeared at the same time.
**CLANG!**
Their swords collided in the center of the endless sea.
Lían's arms trembled.
The copy pushed forward.
Lían twisted his wrist.
The blades slid apart.
He stepped forward.
The copy stepped sideways.
A slash.
A block.
A thrust.
A dodge.
A counter.
The battle accelerated.
Lían's body moved faster than before.
His feet danced across the surface of the water.
Every step created a tiny ripple.
Every movement carried spiritual energy.
Every shift of his body was connected to the next.
He still made mistakes.
He still missed openings.
He still died.
But—
he learned from every one.
And each time he returned—
he became slightly better.
Slightly faster.
Slightly sharper.
More importantly—
he became less afraid.
The sword flashed.
Lían twisted.
The blade passed beside his face.
He countered.
The copy blocked.
**CLANG!**
Lían changed his angle.
The copy followed.
He changed again.
The copy adjusted.
Lían's eyes narrowed.
*It's adapting to me.*
A faint smile appeared on his face.
*Good.*
He tightened his grip.
*Then I'll adapt faster.*
The two figures clashed again.
**CLANG!**
And again.
**CLANG!**
And again.
**CLANG!**
The endless white world remained silent beyond the battle.
Only the crossing of blades disturbed it.
Time continued to pass.
Lían died.
Returned.
Fought.
Died again.
Returned once more.
But—
he never stopped.
Each death became another lesson.
Each defeat became another piece of experience.
And with every repetition—
the distance between him and the copy slowly began to shrink.