死 — Die!
The blade crackled with Qi as Lian raised it high.
He could feel its will—
The blade yearned for battle.
Forged from black steel, its surface was layered with whirling folds, red and grey undertones rippling like blood trapped beneath stone.
Lian shifted his footing, drawing his first stance.
"Celestial Blade — Second Form."
A soft, white radiance flowed over the edge of the blade as he condensed his Qi for the first form.
Yang lowered his centre of gravity, his entire body trembling with violent Lightning Qi. His eyes sharpened—those of a beast locking onto prey.
"Lightning God — Second Form: Swirling Whirlwind."
Silence fell.
Dum. Da dum. Dum. Da dum.
Huǒ Yànhuā's heart thundered in her chest as she watched the two enter their stances.
DU—
Within less than half a heartbeat, they launched forward.
Yang charged in like a thunderstorm, destroying the ground beneath him with his great speed.
While Lian thought he was fast, his footsteps were light, leaving little to no grooves on the ground.
CLANG!
Their blades met.
"Hahaha!" Yang laughed wildly. "So, you really are skilled. I thought I'd end this in a single move—but I suppose not!"
"Make this entertaining for me." Yang had a large grin on his face.
White light and crackling blue lightning collided, the two energies grinding against one another in a brutal contest for dominance.
The pressure exploded.
Both were flung backwards, skidding across the ground to opposite ends of the battlefield.
In that fleeting instant—
Yang's fingers twisted into a hand seal.
A spiralling surge of energy shot forward, slamming into Lian's face.
"Got you!"
Yang surged in immediately, blade flashing.
Slash!
Blood sprayed from Lian's shoulder.
"Ugh!" Lian groaned, barely deflecting the follow-up strike.
"How do you like the poison of my clan?" Yang sneered. "It may not be lethal, but soon you won't even be able to s—"
His words cut off.
Lian was already moving.
Lian swung his blade.
The strike missed; only the very tip brushed against Yang's robes.
Yet—
BOOM!
The ground behind Yang shattered as if struck by a falling star. Shockwaves tore through the earth, and Yang was blasted backwards, skidding violently across the broken terrain.
Lian froze.
"…What the hell is wrong with this blade?"
The first attack had drained most of his strength; this one had been a casual swing.
And yet—
"A normal strike did this?"
He lowered his gaze to the weapon in his hand, studying it. He regripped it and faced Yang.
Thud!
Yang slammed into the ground, then forced himself upright. Blood streamed from his forehead, staining his face.
"What kind of attack was that?" he snarled. "And how are you still seeing? My poison should've taken effect by now!"
His eyes locked onto Lian—unease flickering beneath his fury.
"Tsk…No matter."
Yang steadied his breath and stopped retreating. He raised his blade vertically before him.
"Dragon Bone Blade—Unlock: Second State."
Crack!
Bone scales erupted from the sword, crawling onto Yang's shoulder, waist, and down his legs.
Thick skeletal armour formed like twisted vines wrapping around a ruined house.
As the bones fused, their colour deepened—dark crimson, like blood-soaked marrow.
"You may have a special blade," Yang sneered, "but so do I. This is the Drag—"
SHING!
A distant slash of energy tore across the battlefield, carving through the ground and slamming into Yang mid-sentence.
Dust exploded outward.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then—
Yang stepped out of the smoke.
Unscathed.
The bone armour gleamed, unscared.
"You should learn patience," Yang said coldly, his voice heavy with confidence.
He lunged.
Their blades clashed again—
and again.
Steel screamed as sparks flew. Each exchanged blows, strikes landing and narrowly dodged, neither giving ground. Power and technique collided in rapid succession, the battlefield cracking further with every impact.