Wuji stood in the center of the dimly lit hall, his breathing calm but focused. He stared ahead at the figure that had materialized before him, a perfect copy of himself. From the curve of its body to the clothes it wore, everything was an exact replica, except for one key difference—its eyes. Unlike Wuji's eyes, which flickered with curiosity and the flickering uncertainty of the unknown, the replica's eyes were cold and emotionless. They held no trace of the thoughts or anxieties that swirled in Wuji's mind. It was as if the being in front of him were a lifeless reflection of his physical form, devoid of the internal turmoil that drove Wuji forward.

For a moment, Wuji hesitated, watching the replica closely. 'It's me... yet not me,' he thought, feeling an odd discomfort at facing his own reflection. But there was no time for hesitation in the pagoda. This was a combat trial, and Wuji knew he had to make the first move.

Without drawing his sword, Wuji clenched his fist and charged forward, intending to gauge the replica's strength. His punch flew toward the replica's chest, a clean, calculated strike. At the same moment, the replica made the exact same move. Their fists collided with a sharp, hollow sound, the force of the impact sending a small ripple through the air. Wuji blinked, surprised by how identical the replica's movements were to his own. Every subtlety, every angle of his strike had been mirrored.

'It really is me,' Wuji thought as he quickly stepped back, taking stock of the situation. He charged again, using a combination of punches and strikes to test the replica further. For twenty rounds, they exchanged blows. Every time Wuji moved, the replica mimicked him perfectly, like a reflection in a mirror, neither gaining an advantage.

But something about the fight felt off. The replica wasn't just copying his movements—it was too mechanical, too predictable. Wuji decided it was time to change the game.

He reached his waist, drawing his sword. The cold steel gleamed under the soft lantern light. Without missing a beat, a sword materialized in the replica's hand as well. They locked eyes for a brief moment, and Wuji's heart pounded with the thrill of the challenge ahead.

Steel clashed against steel as their blades met. For the first few exchanges, the battle felt the same as before—identical moves, identical techniques. Wuji would attack with a sweeping arc, and the replica would counter with the exact same move. It was as if he were fighting against his reflection in a mirror, every swing perfectly mirrored.

However, after several rounds of swordplay, something shifted. The replica no longer mirrored his moves. Instead, it started to counter Wuji's attacks with new variations—moves that Wuji himself had used before but wasn't currently employing. A thrust from Wuji was met with a flawless parry, and then the replica would counter with a move Wuji hadn't expected.

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'It's learning,' Wuji realized, his eyes narrowing. 'It's not just copying me anymore. It's improving.'

He was now fighting against himself—but a version of himself that was better. Each strike from the replica was perfectly timed, the blade cutting through the air with precision. Wuji was forced on the defensive, his mind racing as he tried to keep up. His replica had taken the moves he had used earlier and optimized them, using perfect timing and execution. Now, Wuji was struggling to keep pace.

'How do I beat something that knows all of my strengths?' he thought, his breath growing heavier. The replica wasn't just faster and more precise—it was using Wuji's techniques better than he ever had. Every flaw in his own movements was being exploited, every hesitation punished.

But then a realization dawned on him—'If it's learning from me, then I can learn from it.'

The moment that thought clicked into place, Wuji's mind sharpened with a new focus. He stopped thinking of the replica as merely a foe to be defeated, and instead, he began to observe it carefully. Each time it made a perfect counter or used flawless timing, Wuji analyzed the movement. He studied the way it moved, the way it anticipated his attacks, and the precision with which it delivered its strikes.

'If it's copying me... then I'll copy it. I'll learn from it, just as it's learning from me.'

The next time the replica executed a perfectly timed block, Wuji mirrored the movement, copying its speed and form. When it used a swift counterattack, Wuji adapted, using the same technique in his own defense. Soon, he was no longer just reacting to the replica's moves—he was integrating its precision and efficiency into his own style. Each clash of their swords became a lesson, each exchange an opportunity to grow.

Wuji's analytical mind took over, dissecting every move the replica made and incorporating it into his own combat strategy. Slowly, but surely, he began to close the gap between them. His footwork became sharper, his strikes more precise. He no longer saw the replica as a threat, but as a mirror—a tool for self-improvement.

The battle intensified. Wuji's sword flashed through the air, meeting the replica's blade again and again. Each clash of steel brought with it a deeper understanding of his own strengths and weaknesses. The replica's flawless execution, once overwhelming, now became something Wuji could use to refine his own techniques. His movements grew smoother, his strikes more decisive.

Finally, in a swift exchange, Wuji saw an opening. The replica swung its sword in a wide arc, a move that Wuji had once used but now recognized as flawed—too wide, too slow. Wuji stepped inside the swing, his sword cutting through the air with precision. His blade met the replica's neck, and in a flash, the figure dissolved into mist.

Wuji stood in the center of the hall, his chest rising and falling with exertion. The silence of the hall returned, broken only by the faint flicker of the lanterns.

'I did it,' he thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He hadn't just defeated the replica—he had learned from it, grown from it. The trial had pushed him to his limits, forcing him to analyze, adapt, and evolve.

And that, Wuji realized, was the true nature of the combat test. It wasn't just about physical strength or martial skill—it was about understanding oneself, confronting one's weaknesses, and emerging stronger.

As the hall grew quiet, Wuji sheathed his sword and stood tall, ready for whatever the next challenge would be.