Wuji stood in the center of the dimly lit hall, his breathing heavy but controlled. Before him, seven replicas materialized, each wielding a sword in their hands, their eyes cold and emotionless as always. The replicas stood in perfect formation, their stances mirroring his own, and without a moment's hesitation, they attacked.

The seven figures moved as one, coming at Wuji from all sides with deadly precision. Their swords cut through the air, their movements fast and coordinated. Wuji's eyes darted from one replica to another, his mind working at a fevered pitch as he calculated the angles of their strikes, trying to predict their next moves.

He had gained much from his previous battles with the replicas. Each round had been a lesson in combat, teaching him not only how to fight but also how to think under pressure, how to adapt, and how to survive. But this—seven opponents attacking simultaneously—was something else entirely.

Wuji's sword flashed as he deflected a blow from one replica, the ringing sound of clashing steel echoing through the hall. He pivoted quickly, dodging a thrust from another, but before he could fully recover, a third replica's blade came slashing toward his back. Wuji twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike, but it left him open to another attack.

He barely managed to parry the next blow, his mind racing to keep up with the relentless onslaught. The replicas moved with such speed and precision that it was impossible to fight them head-on. Wuji's analytical mind was his only saving grace. He didn't have the luxury of brute strength or overwhelming power. He had to rely on his instincts, intuition, and calculation.

'I can't take them all at once. I need to divide them,' Wuji thought as he deflected another strike.

He focused on the rhythm of their movements, the subtle pauses between their attacks. Though they moved in perfect unison, there was still a pattern to their coordination—a brief moment where their strikes would fall out of sync. Wuji honed in on this, using his keen observation to predict their next moves.

He dodged and parried with precision, always staying one step ahead, but the pressure was immense. The replicas were relentless, giving him no room to breathe. Wuji's body moved instinctively, his sword flashing as he deflected blows from all sides, but he knew he couldn't keep this up forever.

'Their strength lies in their coordination,' he realized. 'If I can disrupt that…'

He feinted a strike toward the replica on his left, causing it to step forward, its sword raised to block. In that instant, Wuji spun on his heel and drove his sword into the side of the replica on his right, catching it off-guard. His blade pierced through the replica's torso, and it dissolved into mist, vanishing before it could hit the ground.

Six left.

The remaining six replicas didn't falter. As soon as one fell, they adjusted, their formation tightening. Wuji's victory was short-lived as the remaining replicas intensified their assault, their strikes coming faster and harder than before. He dodged another blow, but the tip of a sword grazed his arm, drawing a thin line of blood.

'I can't keep this up for long,' Wuji thought, gritting his teeth. His mind was still sharp, but his body was beginning to tire.

He blocked another strike and immediately countered, swinging his sword in a wide arc. One of the replicas tried to parry, but Wuji's blow was too strong, and the force of his attack knocked the sword from its hand. Without hesitating, Wuji thrust his blade into its chest, and the replica dissolved into mist.

Five left.

The fight continued, the air around Wuji crackling with tension. His body ached from the exertion, his muscles burning as he dodged and parried, always staying just one step ahead of the remaining replicas. He couldn't afford to make a single mistake. One wrong move, and it would be over.

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But Wuji's mind was as sharp as ever. He had fought countless battles in his previous life as an engineer, though not with swords, but with problems, equations, and calculations. This was just another challenge—another problem to solve. And solve it, he would.

He feinted again, drawing two of the replicas toward him, their swords raised to strike. At the last moment, Wuji ducked low and swept his leg out, knocking one of the replicas off balance. As it stumbled, Wuji drove his sword into its chest, and it dissolved into mist.

Four left.

The remaining four replicas pressed their advantage, attacking Wuji with even greater intensity. Their movements were faster now, more precise, but Wuji had learned their patterns. He dodged and weaved through their strikes, using his analytical mind to predict their attacks.

He parried a blow from one replica and immediately countered, slashing across its chest. It dissolved into mist, leaving only three.

With renewed determination, Wuji fought on, his sword flashing as he deflected blow after blow. The remaining three replicas were relentless, but Wuji had the upper hand now. He had learned from each of them, adapting his strategy with every exchange.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Wuji found an opening. He parried the strike of one replica, disarmed it with a quick twist of his wrist, and drove his sword through its chest. It dissolved into mist, leaving only two.

The last two replicas attacked simultaneously, but Wuji was ready. He blocked one strike and dodged the other, his movements fluid and precise. With a final, powerful swing, he severed the head of one replica, and as it dissolved, he turned and finished the last one with a swift thrust to its heart.

The hall fell silent once more. Wuji stood alone, his sword dripping with mist. He was breathing heavily, his body drenched in sweat, but he had done it. He had defeated all seven replicas.

Before he could even catch his breath, that same mysterious energy surged through his body, restoring his stamina and washing away his fatigue. The warmth spread through him, erasing the pain and exhaustion from the battle. In seconds, he was back to his peak form, as if the grueling fight had never taken place.

But there was no time to rest.

As Wuji's strength returned, eight new replicas materialized in front of him, their cold, emotionless eyes locking onto him.

Eight.

Wuji felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. Seven had been difficult enough, but now there were eight. Could he really defeat them all? He wasn't sure. But before he could think too much about it, the battle began again.

The eight replicas attacked without hesitation, their movements perfectly coordinated. Wuji's sword flashed as he parried and dodged, his body moving on instinct. But this time, the pressure was even greater. There were more swords, more angles to cover, and more attacks to defend against.

'This is too much…' Wuji thought as he deflected another strike. His mind was racing, trying to keep up with the relentless assault.

But even as he fought, another thought occurred to him.

'One-handed sword style is too inefficient.'

He had been using a single sword throughout his life, relying on his right hand for every attack and defense. But now, against eight opponents, he realized that wasn't enough. His left hand was underutilized, and he was leaving openings in his defense because of it.

'When I get selected into the sect, I'll practice with my left hand as well,' Wuji thought as he parried another blow. *I'll learn to use two swords.*

The idea filled him with a new sense of purpose. He couldn't focus on it fully right now, but he made a mental note. When he had time, he would train in dual-wielding swords. It would make him far more efficient in battle.

His thoughts were interrupted by another realization.

'This artifact… it's incredible for combat practice.'

The trial wasn't just testing his strength—it was helping him improve. Every battle, every replica, had taught him something new. This pagoda was like a training ground designed to push him to his limits. Wuji knew that when this was over, he would need to find out if there were other artifacts like this. A place where one could practice combat endlessly, always improving.

But now, he had to focus on the fight.

Despite his newfound resolve, Wuji was struggling. The eight replicas were overwhelming him. He was forced to dodge and defend, unable to find an opening to attack. His movements were becoming sluggish, his mind struggling to keep up with the speed of their strikes.

And then, it happened.

Before Wuji even realized it, one of the replicas had moved faster than he anticipated. Its sword was at his neck, the cold steel pressing against his skin.

Wuji froze, his breath catching in his throat. He had been defeated.

A sense of frustration washed over him, but before he could dwell on it, the same force that had enveloped him when he first entered the pagoda wrapped around him again. The world blurred, and Wuji felt himself being pulled away from the battle.