The moment the artifact left his skin, the atmosphere changed.
An entirely different pressure seeped into the air like smoke from a volcano, slow, heavy, suffocating.
It completely engulfed Noah's own aura, like a huge wave in the ocean swallowing another, smaller wave.
Noah took a step back involuntarily. The Duke, watching from the side, straightened, his expression darkening.
Boom!!!
A pulse of raw power radiated from Kyle, invisible but undeniable.
The aura that leaked out was clean and refined, steady like a flowing river, yet deep and potent like the heart of a mountain.
'Foundation Establishment. Mid-stage!!!'
"Impossible..." one of the watching cultivators whispered.
The realization hit them all like a hammer.
Noah's eyes went wide with disbelief, and even the Duke's composed expression cracked, his pupils constricting, breath catching for half a beat.
Kyle's power wrapped around the room like a slow dawn banishing the night, pushing against Noah's oppressive pressure and easily piercing through it.
"Who told you I have no cultivation?" Kyle said, his voice low and unhurried.
His gaze bored into Noah, who now looked less like a predator and more like a cornered animal.
"This… This can't be…" Noah muttered, sweat forming on his brow.
The Duke's voice was tight. "Impossible… You're—how did you—"
But Kyle didn't let them speak further. He took a single step forward, and the very ground beneath him cracked.
And in that moment, both Noah and the Duke knew...
The duel was already lost.
Noah flinched, taking another step back.
...
Kyle's aura surged for a moment longer, just enough to etch the truth into every soul present, before he exhaled, slow and steady.
The oppressive pressure around him faded like mist under sunlight, dissipating as he slipped the silver ring back onto his finger.
Noah's legs had only just stopped trembling when he exploded.
"You're cheating!" he snarled, voice cracking with fury. "Y-you were hiding your talent!? This whole thing was a trick!"
'Should I call off the duel?' The duke thought from the side.
Kyle raised a brow. "Cheating?" he echoed with mock curiosity, tilting his head. "And here I thought you were smart. I am simply just better."
Noah growled, taking a step forward, fists clenched.
Kyle drew his one-handed longsword with a whisper of steel, holding it easily in one hand. He rolled his shoulders once, loosening up.
"But don't worry," he said, "I won't use it."
Noah blinked. "What?"
"I won't use any Qi," Kyle said with a casual shrug. "You can use everything you've got. I'll just use my sword."
Gasps echoed through the room.
"Arrogant bastard...Since you are so stupid, I'll take you up on your offer." Noah hissed, a nervous smile appearing on his face.
But his hands trembled.
Kyle raised his blade in a loose, elegant stance.
"Come on, Noah. Show me what you've got."
Noah roared and charged, furious, humiliated, flaring every ounce of Qi he had.
He swung wildly, pouring power into each strike, bursting forward with Flaming Blade Arcs, enhanced speed, and spinning cleaves.
Kyle weaved between the strikes like water flowing between rocks.
Tap—parry—slice—sidestep.
He redirected Noah's swings with minimal effort, his blade dancing through the air with surgical precision.
Slash!
A line of red appeared across Noah's shoulder.
Feint. Parry. Slash.
A rip opened along Noah's sleeve, and another across his thigh.
He staggered, now panting.
Enraged, Noah bellowed and formed a fiery sigil with both hands.
"Burning Dragon Technique!"
A serpent of flame erupted toward Kyle, its maw open wide.
Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly. He took a step forward.
One. Clean. Cut.
The dragon was cleaved down the middle, its body flickering into flickering particles before it could even reach him.
The watching cultivators reeled.
"That's… that's no swordplay. That's art."
"Is he really not using any Qi?"
"The young lord is being humiliated..."
The Duke's expression had gone cold and stony, but he said nothing, deciding to believe there was no way Noah could lose while his opponent was not using Qi.
Noah tried once more, summoning a burst of flame around his blade and charging in desperation.
But Kyle danced around him again, striking with clinical accuracy.
His blade met flesh, armor, and steel, always in perfect rhythm.
Noah snarled like a cornered beast and lunged.
The air cracked with the force of his swing, Qi-infused and meant to tear flesh from bone, but Kyle sidestepped with the elegance of a dancer, the tip of his blade flicking up and slapping Noah's wrist just enough to throw his form off.
Noah stumbled, growled, and struck again, harder this time.
Kyle parried with barely a twitch of his wrist.
Again.
Deflect.
Again.
Redirect.
Steel rang against steel, sparks scattering with every clash, but Noah's movements grew increasingly wild while Kyle remained disturbingly composed.
Then came a feint.
Noah fell for it.
Kyle's blade kissed the edge of his ribs, drawing a shallow, humiliating line of crimson.
From the side of the room, nobles and sect cultivators watching gasped audibly.
"He was not lying, he's not using Qi…" someone whispered.
"He's dismantling him."
"Every strike is perfect."
Noah roared, raising his sword and forming a whip of fire that sizzled in the air. "Flaming sword Strike!"
A writhing serpent of fire burst forth, fangs open and heat distorting the air.
Kyle's eyes narrowed just slightly. He stepped into it, not away.
Slash.
One clean, horizontal cut.
The strike split down the middle, flames dissipating like smoke.
More gasps.
Murmurs turned to stunned silence.
Kyle advanced, step by step, his sword flashing in precise arcs.
Every swing was measured.
Every motion, efficient.
And every moment pushed Noah further into desperation.
Qi surged wildly from Noah, he unleashed technique after technique, from wind blades to stone spikes, each one met by nothing more than the cold edge of Kyle's steel.
Clang! A wind blade shattered.
Slice! A Qi shield split open.
Crack! A flaming kick was turned aside with a pommel strike to the chest.
Noah stumbled back, panting, red-faced, and drenched in sweat. His Qi was flickering, sputtering like a dying candle.
Kyle hadn't even broken a sweat.
In that moment, it became clear to all of them. This was not a fight; this was a one-sided fight.
If Kyle wanted to, he could end this duel instantly. It would be effortless for him.
But he did not. He wanted to overwhelm his opponent with nothing but skill.
'He is terrifying.'