Cold wind whipped sharply against Kai Feng's skin, stirring him awake. His eyes fluttered open, vision blurred at first, then sharpened as realization slowly dawned.
He knew this place.
He stood atop the same mountain peak from long ago, the place he had first been transported to when the Celestial Eclipse Manual activated that fateful night in the library. Memories flooded back vividly: three grueling years of isolated training, intense meditation, and relentless cultivation. This was the very realm where his path to cultivation had begun.
Yet, this time, something felt different.
Kai blinked, startled, as a swirl of silvery mist appeared beside him atop the familiar mountain peak. The air shimmered, twisted, and suddenly, Yin stood there, her face painted with confusion and surprise.
"You?" Kai breathed, eyes widening. "How…?"
Yin stared back at him, equally stunned. Her expression quickly shifted from surprise to suspicion, her eyes scanning their surroundings cautiously. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Where are we?"
"This is the same place that I was teleported to when I activated the Celestial Eclipse Manual in my world," Kai admitted, his gaze drifting over the endless clouds and vast, familiar sky. The crisp wind tugged at his robes, whispering across the peak. "One moment, I was in the hall, I was about to confront Wu Ming, and then… this."
Yin raised her hand slowly. As she did, a shimmering image flickered into existence in front of her—a ghostly hologram of her Peerless Sword, floating serenely, bathed in silvery-white Qi.
Kai instinctively reached forward as another hologram appeared before him, suspended in a gentle halo of golden radiance. His heart skipped—it was the Celestial Eclipse Manual, floating quietly on its own.
Both holograms hung suspended, gently resonating, pulsing faintly with synchronized rhythm.
"My Peerless Sword works the same way as your manual, it brought me to the sword's pocket realm where I trained and cultivated. When I returned to the real world, ony a few hours had elapsed but it felt like years had passed," Yin's eyes sharpened. She stepped closer, studying their artifacts with intense concentration. Gradually, realization dawned on her face. "Our artifacts musy have brought us here. They reacted together—somehow sensing our danger and merging their powers."
Kai nodded thoughtfully, piecing it together himself. "Your sword and my book brought us to this pocket world to shield us."
"A temporary sanctuary," Yin mused, fingers brushing through the intangible projection of her sword. "But it won't last long."
Kai took a slow, measured breath, feeling his chest ache beneath his injuries. "Time doesn't flow the same here," he recalled. "Perhaps we've bought ourselves some breathing room."
"Exactly," Yin agreed, her voice urgent. "If we use our time wisely, we could still alter our fate. Otherwise, Wu Ming will slaughter everyone before we return. Even now, the battle outside continues without us."
Kai's heart tightened at her words, the weight of their responsibility sinking heavily onto his shoulders. He nodded resolutely. "Then let's not waste a second. Do you have a plan?"
Yin's gaze was steady as she answered, "After taking three direct strikes from my master, you're already in no condition to fight. And judging from the way Wu Ming dismantled him…" Her voice turned grim. "Even at your peak, you wouldn't stand a chance."
Kai gave a dry, sardonic smile. "Tell me something I haven't figured out already."
Undeterred, Yin straightened, a spark igniting in her eyes. "Which is why we do it together."
He blinked. "Together?"
Yin nodded and drew herself up confidently. "I've been working on something. During my time training within the sword's realm, especially during long, sleepless nights, I began developing a technique—a dual sword style meant for two fighters. It's designed to bridge strengths, cover weaknesses, and flow like a single entity."
Kai raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "You created an entirely new technique? On your own?"
A faint flush crept across her cheeks, but she brushed it off with practiced composure. "There were gaps in the sword techniques I inherited—flaws that became apparent the deeper I delved. So I designed something that would reinforce them, something meant to be used in harmony with another practitioner. I call it… the Dual Swords Harmony Technique."
Kai smiled, admiration clear in his eyes. "Impressive. You're more of a genius than you let on."
Yin looked away quickly, but not before he caught the flicker of a reluctant smile. She waved his compliment away briskly, already shifting into the practical role of instructor. She lifted her hand, and immediately another sword materialized from thin air, floating gently towards Kai. "Take this. I'll teach you the basics quickly. We don't have much time."
Kai grasped the blade, feeling its unfamiliar weight in his hands. "I'm not a swordsman," he warned gently.
"Then you'll become one," Yin said firmly, stepping forward. "We have no choice."
Training began immediately. Yin wasted no breath on pleasantries, launching into rigorous explanations of stances, strikes, and blocks. She guided Kai swiftly through essential forms—Dragon's Tail Sweep, Mountain-Splitting Strike, River's Flow Block—patiently but urgently correcting his posture and movements.
Kai quickly discovered he possessed neither innate talent nor affinity for sword techniques. His movements were awkward, stiff, constantly out of sync with Yin's graceful fluidity. Her forms were precise, each strike elegant yet powerful, honed through countless hours of disciplined practice. Compared to her, Kai felt like a clumsy novice fumbling through basics.
"Again!" Yin ordered sharply, frustration bubbling beneath her controlled exterior. "Your footwork is sloppy. Precision is key."
Kai grit his teeth, perspiration dripping down his forehead as he reset into stance again, sword trembling from exhaustion. Despite his frustration, he forced himself forward, determination unyielding. Each repetition slowly improved, gradually smoothing his clumsy strikes into something passably competent.
After several hours—or perhaps days; it was difficult to gauge in this strange realm—Kai finally mastered the core forms. Yin allowed herself a brief nod of approval.
"Better. Now, we begin learning the techniques."
Despite mastering individual forms, Kai soon realized that was merely the beginning. Yin's Dual Swords Harmony Technique demanded absolute synchronization. It required them to fight as extensions of each other—anticipating movements, flowing in perfect harmony, moving as one.
This quickly proved nearly impossible.
Kai was unpredictable, instinctual, constantly improvising mid-strike. Yin, however, relied heavily on structured patterns, predetermined sequences honed to perfection. Their differences couldn't have been more stark. Yin expected Kai to adhere strictly to her rhythms; Kai rebelled instinctively against such rigidity.
Repeatedly, their blades tangled and clashed awkwardly, disrupting each other's momentum and creating dangerous openings.
"You need to match my timing exactly!" Yin snapped, frustration clear in her strained voice.