"Pff~" Yunli didn't feel the slightest thrill at Yanqing's challenge to a duel. Instead, the moment she saw the weapon in his hand, she burst out laughing.
"Haha, Yanqing, oh Yanqing. Just a few days apart, and you've finally figured it out? Realized that slippery, fancy fighting style of yours doesn't work, so you've given up your aerobics and decided to walk the path of strength like me?"
The match hadn't even begun, yet seeing Yanqing wielding a heavy sword against her already made Yunli feel as though she'd won without a fight.
Watching the same boy who had been arguing with her endlessly just days ago now abandon his own style to imitate hers—well, that was far more satisfying than victory.
She tried to suppress her grin and say something calm and wise, like an adult: "A promising child indeed."
And if she could ruffle Yanqing's hair while saying it, that would make it perfect.
But before she could restrain herself—
"Pff, hahaha!" Yunli doubled over on the gatehouse, clutching her stomach as she laughed heartily.
Playfulness overtook her. Mimicking her grandfather's manner, she clasped her hands behind her back and spoke in a deliberately old-fashioned tone with her childish voice.
"Ahem, Brother Yanqing. I'm an experienced one, you know. How about I teach you a few moves first? Wouldn't want you getting chased all over the Luofu like last time."
Hearing that, the veins on Yanqing's forehead practically popped.
He forced down his irritation and said each word through clenched teeth, "That's called strategy."
Then, in a rush, he added, "Using agile footwork to force you into making mistakes—that's not running away! If I hadn't worried about winning unfairly, I'd have just flown up high and bombarded you with sword energy until you dropped!"
"Hmph! So what?" Yunli crossed her arms and huffed, refusing to back down. "Even if you fly that high, one toss of Old Mettle would knock you right back down!"
Given Yanqing's usual temper, Yunli expected him to argue again. But to her surprise, he simply gave a sly, almost wicked smile and said mysteriously, "This time, you won't be knocking me down."
With that, Yanqing flung his heavy sword forward, then leapt lightly onto it. The sword shot skyward, whipping up a strong gust of wind.
In the blink of an eye, he skimmed past Yunli's side at incredible speed, the wind pressure forcing her to squint shut.
He circled once, then hovered at her height. "Enough talk—let's fight! If I win, you'll return my sword... and bow your head to apologize!"
"Hah, why not? I'm not afraid of that!" Yunli replied boldly, but the moment she opened her eyes, her expression grew serious.
So, he's got some skill after all… she muttered to herself.
Though she was reckless, she wasn't stupid. Controlling a flying sword consumed a great deal of Path energy—and the heavier the weapon, the greater the cost.
It wasn't that she couldn't fly her sword; she'd simply abandoned that method to use Old Mettle for longer battles.
For Yanqing to fight this way despite the immense drain, he must have something up his sleeve.
Could General Jing Yuan have guided him? Quite possible.
But whatever the reason, she wasn't about to show fear.
"Old Mettle, it's fighting time."
At her call, a massive greatsword taller than herself materialized in her hand. She lifted it horizontally in front of her—clearly waiting for Yanqing to make the first move.
She wanted to see just what tricks this boy had learned.
"Then I won't hold back!"
Yanqing understood her intention perfectly. He rose high into the air with the Massacre Ruler, soaring to the very limit of his control.
Channeling his Path power into the blade, the usual cyan glow shifted—violet energy began swirling around the sword.
"Yunli! You'd better be ready for this strike!" he shouted.
Then he dove—like a hawk stooping on its prey.
"Child's play. You think that just by adding a bit of momentum you can unleash the power of a heavy sword? Let me teach you what true heavy-sword technique is! Pure strength conquers all!"
Unfazed by his charge, Yunli scoffed inwardly. This tactic was as basic as they came—she'd practiced against it since her very first day of training. Beat me with this? Does he think mastering a heavy sword is that easy?
"Ha!" She swung both arms up, her small frame hoisting the enormous blade overhead.
Her Path energy erupted, forming a towering projection of her sword. In that moment, it was no longer just a weapon—it looked like a mountain of steel.
Yanqing's strike was nearly upon her. Yunli uttered her sword mantra, meeting his attack head-on without any pretense or trickery.
She would show him, directly and decisively, how a real heavy sword was meant to be used.
"Galespin Summersault! Haa!"
Yanqing felt the immense power bearing down on him—and instead of fear, excitement surged through him.
The Massacre Ruler's concept of cutting through all—this was exactly the kind of straightforward clash it was made for.
"Come on then!"
Violet sword energy met blazing orange light—impact!
Yunli was confident this blow would send Yanqing flying across the Luofu, a perfect lesson for his arrogance.
But before her satisfaction could bloom, Old Mettle shuddered violently in her hands—sending an emergency warning, the kind it only gave when facing a threat beyond its capacity!
Before she could react, the greatsword buzzed uncontrollably.
A moment later, Old Mettle twisted violently, spinning in a wide arc through the air before plummeting toward the ground.
Still gripping the hilt, Yunli was dragged along, the world spinning around her.
"Waaah! Old Mettle, what are you doing?!" she cried, flailing her legs helplessly in midair.
At this point, it didn't look like Yunli was controlling the sword—it looked like the sword was flying her!
She barely managed to stop herself from face-planting into the ground, stumbling into balance with great effort.
But she had no time to rest; her hands were already patting the blade anxiously. "Old Mettle, what's wrong?"
Losing control of a flying sword was a rookie mistake—but she was no rookie, and neither was her longtime partner.
Old Mettle trembled ceaselessly, transmitting its intent.
"What? You're… scared? You say we can't win? That if we keep fighting, your blade will break?!"
Yunli repeated the message in disbelief.
Impossible! How could she lose to a novice who'd only practiced heavy swordsmanship for a few days?
And with just one exchange? In such a ridiculous way?
Yet she had never once doubted Old Mettle's instincts.
For a moment, her mind went blank—then came a sour ache in her chest, a stifled lump in her throat, and a strange sting behind her eyes.
It felt like being whacked over the head by a mallet. Her thoughts stuck together like syrup—her heart heavy, bitter, and inexplicably wronged.
"My sword came from a Curio Trash Can—it's a purple Curio. You don't need to feel bad about losing."
Yanqing landed gracefully, walking over to her and speaking in a calm voice.
"Now then, time to give me back my sword, isn't it?"
"Hmph… using a Curio like that, it's hardly an honorable victory," Yunli muttered under her breath. She turned, pulled out a slender flying sword, and stepped forward to hand it over. "A bet's a bet… here."
"Heh, in the Luofu, you should really learn some manners, little sister."
Seeing Yunli relent, Yanqing's confidence soared. Planting the Massacre Ruler into the ground, he stood proudly, hands on hips, gazing down at her.
Then he took his long-lost flying sword in both hands, looking at it with warmth and respect. "Old partner, did you miss me?"
"Hey, what's your name? I'm telling you, as a heavy sword, you'll have a brighter future following me than that boy!"
The soft, lilting voice reached Yanqing's ears, sending a shiver down his spine.
He turned—only to see that troublesome girl holding his Massacre Ruler, shamelessly trying to recruit it away from him!
No! She's stealing my sword—again!