The panel's reappearance only strengthens my resolve to win. And so, the first match begins—fate would have it that my opponent is Haoyu. The outcome may seem predetermined, yet the crowd watches with bated breath. Some anticipate my humiliation, while others hold onto the faint hope of an upset. Their expectations, however, mean nothing to me.

"You seem pleased that I'm your opponent, Chen." Haoyu steps into the center first, his sword catching the sunlight, its edge flashing like a deliberate challenge.

"Maybe I just wanted to spar with you again." I follow seconds later, my lips curling into a grim smile. My gaze is lowered—shadowed by past defeat—yet within it burns the confidence of a long-awaited rematch.

Murmurs ripple through the audience as I step onto the platform. Some whisper that this match is already decided. Others smirk, eager to see me humiliated.

"I bet Haoyu will cut him down before the second exchange."

"I wouldn't be so sure. There's something different about Chen today."

"It just means when someone loses it'll be more entertaining."

Our blades cross, the air between us charged with unspoken determination.

Elder Jung-hi seems to smile at our interaction. "Begin!" Instructor Yuan declares, his arm slicing through the air.

The moment the match begins, Haoyu surges forward, intent on ending it swiftly.

"Young Jiang, show me proof that you are truly my disciple." Juan Lei's voice echoes in my mind, steady and proud.

"Sloppy." I deflect Haoyu's blade the instant it nears me, redirecting his momentum and sliding him past my stance.

"Did… Did he just evade Haoyu's first strike?"

"Probably just luck."

"What the—?!" His words cut off as I pivot, my blade flashing toward his neck to end the match.

But he isn't that easy to defeat.

"Don't underestimate me, you third-rate martial artist!" He twists, parrying my strike with ease. As expected.

"I was going to take it easy on you, but it looks like you need another lesson." His stance shifts—fluid, balanced, honed to perfection. He's done holding back.

"Flowing Water Steps!" Haoyu grins as he vanishes into motion, his movements erratic, unpredictable—like a river's ever-changing current.

Murmurs stir in the crowd.

A heartbeat later, he reappears behind me.

"Rising Cloud Slash!" His sword arcs upward, clashing against mine. The force staggers me, and before I can fully regain my footing, he sweeps my legs from beneath me.

I'm airborne.

"Crescent Moon Thrust!" He declares, his sword lunging toward me—ready to finish it.

But I refuse to fall.

In the split second before impact, I tighten my grip and recall my teachings. Twisting midair, I angle my sword with precision, deflecting his blade toward the ground. The momentum carries me upward, poised for the next strike.

"Echoing Steel!"

The crowd around us gasps at the situation.

"How—" Instructor Yuan starts, but Yujin beside him cuts in, voice booming.

"BEAT HIS ASS, CHEN!"

With that, I raise my sword high.

"Cloud Piercing Slash!"

Pushing my body to its limits, I unleash a strike as fast as sound.

Beside Instructor Yuan, Elder Jung-hi scoffs, drawing my attention. "These kids think shouting out techniques and throwing more moves makes them stronger," he says with disdain. "They have yet to grasp the true essence of Wudang." His sharp tone carries an unspoken critique of Instructor Yuan's methods.

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Then—

The air thickens. A low hum resonates through the arena as flickers of blue qi coil around Haoyu's form, crackling like lightning. My blade is inches away from striking—but before it can land, a force like a crashing wave slams into me. My body is sent flying before I even register what happened.

"How the—?" I stagger but quickly regain my footing. As I lift my gaze, Haoyu stands before me, his form glowing with crackling blue qi.

"You bastard, I'll show you—!" I move to strike, but he doesn't attack. Instead, he shifts his stance.

"Seven Stars Sword"—a formidable Wudang technique that unleashes seven strikes, mirroring the pattern of the constellations.

Elder Jung-hi scoffs. "This fight is turning into a theater show—no efficiency, just pure flash."

"He's using qi already? In a mere disciple's match?" Instructor Yuan shouts, already preparing to intervene."

But Elder Jung-hi raises a hand.

"No, let them be. I want to see if he has truly changed. And if he hasn't… then he's better off this way." His gaze remains locked on the two outer disciples before him, intrigued by the unfolding battle. "And to confirm a suspicion of mine."

Haoyu moves—lightning-fast.

In that instant, time seems to freeze. My instincts scream, seven key points across my body warning me to move. But I can't dodge.

"Let me borrow your body for a moment, young Jiang."

Suddenly, my qi spirals out of control, surging through me like a raging current. It feels just like when Juan Lei guides my qi—but this time, it's different. He's not merely guiding it; he's seizing control. The surge he's using to command my body won't last long—at most, five seconds before I completely give out.

With those words, my consciousness is yanked away, as if I'm watching myself from a third-person perspective. Though I have no control over my body, I can still feel the strain as he moves—like someone wielding a powerful technique without the conditioning needed to endure its toll.

"You have talent, but you're far too reckless." He remarks, but not at me, but at Haoyu.

My body surges with qi—enough to rival Haoyu's.

"Taiji Sword." He wasn't using a technique—he intended to rely solely on swordplay to overcome Haoyu's onslaught.

Instructor Yuan and Elder Jung-hi gasp in unison. "What—?" Yujin, off to the side, looks just as stunned, witnessing two masters caught off guard at the same time.

Before Haoyu's first strike lands, it's already deflected. Juan Lei moves with quiet precision—fewer motions, yet no less effective. Flowing with the momentum of the attack, I—no, my master—twist a heel, seamlessly redirecting the force. The blade arcs in a smooth, circular motion, now carrying both my qi and Haoyu's, flowing like a river through steel.

"That isn't the skill of a mere outer disciple," Instructor Yuan observes.

Elder Jung-hi nods in agreement. "It seems Zhang was right after all," he says to Instructor Yuan.

"You have fought well, disciple." Juan Lei's voice echoes through my skull, magnified by the searing pain, as if my suffering amplifies his presence.

As Master's blade descends, agony surges through me—like my very being is being torn apart. The river of qi coursing along the blade erupts outward, unfurling like a tidal wave before blooming into the shape of a majestic tree. The force crashes into Haoyu, his body trembling beneath its weight.

"Is this even still him?" The thought claws at Haoyu's mind as Juan Lei, now in my body, effortlessly dismantles a technique that outer disciples struggle to perform. Meanwhile, Haoyu writhes, overwhelmed by the sheer surge of qi.

The blade halts just short of his abdomen, its edge momentarily gleaming—like the legendary sword once wielded by Wudang's greatest master.

"So he inherited his will…" Elder Jung-hi murmurs, while Instructor Yuan presses a hand to his forehead, the sheer weight of the implications sinking in.

As for Haoyu—

"This isn't… Chen. This is… someone else." The words barely escape his lips, his body paralyzed by the overwhelming surge of qi.

A breath later, Haoyu collapses—unconscious.

"Jiang Chen wins!" Instructor Yuan declares. Though the stress of the situation lingers in his voice, buried beneath it is something else—pride. Pride for the disciple who once gave up, yet now stands tall once more.

With that, the instructors and disciples all rushed into the training grounds—not just because I won or Haoyu lost, but because they had just witnessed a battle far beyond their ranks. As control returns to my body, I feel Yujin behind me, lifting me up in sheer excitement. But as the last traces of adrenaline fade, so does my strength. Darkness creeps at the edges of my vision, and before I can steady myself, my body gives in.

Just before everything fades, I catch one last sight—Elder Jung-hi's gaze. But this time, there is respect in his eyes, as if, at last, he sees me in a new light.

Within my mind, the panel reappears—this time, transformed once again. No longer a rigid slab of calligraphy, it unfurls like an ancient scroll, its surface adorned with elegant script.

.

"You have proven yourself worthy."

[Mission Completed: Surpass Your Limits]

"Your sword has finally been sharpened and honed."

Objective: Pass your next sparring match in the pract—

.

.

The message flickers. A moment later, it reappears with a slight change.

.

.

Objective: Pass your next sparring match.

Reward: The first stance of 'Flowing River Sword Art'.

.

.

Once more, the text shimmers and shifts.

.

.

.

"The legacy of a legend now flows through you."

[Mission Unlocked: Legacy of Juan Lei]

[System Feature Unlocked—Legacy of Murim.]

"May the light of Wudang grace your next move."

Objective: ???

Reward: ???