Dark Trials VI - The Duel Begins

The morning sun bathed the Dark Clan's courtyard in a pale light, casting long shadows over the stone platform where the duel would take place. The tension was palpable, electrifying the air as the entire clan gathered to witness the match they had all been waiting for—Jin Ma, the bastard son who had defied expectations, against Seon Ma, the prodigy of the Dark Clan, whose icy precision had broken countless challengers.

Jin stood at the edge of the platform, his body relaxed but his mind sharp. Every muscle in his body, honed through endless nights of preparation, was ready. Across from him, Seon Ma stood with his arms crossed, a faint smirk curling his lips. The sun caught the sheen of Seon's dark robes, accentuating his cold, imposing aura. His eyes, sharp as blades, locked onto Jin with a gaze filled with disdain.

"You've lasted longer than I expected," Seon said, his voice calm but laced with contempt. "But you're still nothing more than a bastard playing at being a warrior."

Jin didn't respond. He had learned long ago that words held no weight in the Dark Clan, only power. He kept his breathing steady, feeling the earth beneath his feet as he sank slightly into the Shadow Stance. His body was coiled, ready to spring, every movement deliberate and controlled. His strategy was clear: disrupt Seon's rhythm, break his cold calculation, and strike before he could seize control of the battle.

The elder overseeing the match raised his hand, signaling for silence. The crowd, filled with disciples and clan elders, grew quiet, their eyes fixed on the two fighters.

"Let the duel begin!"

Seon moved first, his body blurring as he dashed forward with incredible speed. Jin braced himself, dropping lower into the Shadow Stance, but Seon was faster than anyone Jin had faced before. A palm strike laced with dark Qi shot toward Jin's chest, the force behind it enough to crack stone.

Jin twisted his body, narrowly dodging the blow, but he felt the shockwave of energy pass by him, sending a ripple of pain through his ribs. He gritted his teeth, using the momentum to sidestep, his eyes never leaving Seon's form.

Seon's movements were fluid, seamless. He pivoted, launching a series of rapid strikes aimed at Jin's head and torso, each blow faster and more precise than the last. Jin dodged and parried, his muscles burning from the effort, but he couldn't find an opening. Seon was pressing him, driving him back with relentless force.

"You can't keep running," Seon sneered, his voice barely above a whisper as he delivered another lightning-fast kick aimed at Jin's ribs.

Jin ducked under the kick, his body dropping into a low crouch as he activated the Serpent's Strike. His fist lashed out, aiming for Seon's exposed midsection. The blow was sharp, precise, and perfectly timed.

But Seon was faster.

With a fluid motion, Seon twisted his body, avoiding the strike by mere inches. His hand snapped out like a whip, catching Jin's wrist in mid-air. Before Jin could react, Seon pulled him forward, driving his knee into Jin's abdomen with brutal force.

Pain exploded in Jin's gut, and for a moment, his vision blurred. He staggered back, gasping for breath as Seon released his wrist. The crowd murmured, sensing that the fight was already tilting in Seon's favor.

"You're predictable," Seon said, his voice cold and detached. "I've studied you, Jin. You rely too much on brute force, thinking you can overpower your opponents. But this is where your luck ends."

Jin wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, his mind racing. Seon was right—he had studied Jin. But what Seon didn't know was that Jin had spent the past week studying him just as closely. Seon's greatest strength was his ability to predict his opponents' moves, to control the flow of the battle with his precise strikes and unshakable calm.

But Jin had a plan to break that calm.

He steadied his breathing, focusing on the rhythm of the fight. Seon was fast—faster than anyone Jin had ever faced—but speed wasn't everything. Seon's reliance on control, on maintaining the upper hand, made him vulnerable to unpredictability. If Jin could throw him off balance, just for a moment, he would find his opening.

Seon moved in again, his body a blur of motion as he aimed a powerful palm strike at Jin's chest. Jin didn't dodge this time. Instead, he braced himself, absorbing the impact as Seon's palm slammed into his shoulder. Pain lanced through his arm, but Jin's feet remained planted.

Seon's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and that was all Jin needed.

In one fluid motion, Jin dropped into the Nightfall Form, his body merging with the shadows cast by the midday sun. For a brief moment, he disappeared from sight, slipping behind Seon with the speed of a whisper.

Before Seon could react, Jin's fist shot out, aimed directly at the back of Seon's neck. The Serpent's Strike connected with a sickening thud, and Seon staggered forward, his body jerking from the unexpected blow.

The crowd gasped in shock.

Jin pressed his advantage, launching a series of rapid strikes at Seon's exposed back and ribs. Each blow was calculated, precise, aiming for Seon's vital points. Seon twisted and turned, his arms moving in a blur as he blocked and parried, but Jin's speed and ferocity were overwhelming.

For the first time in the duel, Seon was on the defensive.

"You think you've caught me off guard?" Seon growled, his voice strained but still steady. He leaped backward, putting distance between them, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Dark Qi began to coil around Seon's arms, swirling like black smoke as his aura intensified. The temperature in the courtyard seemed to drop, a palpable sense of dread filling the air. The crowd fell silent, sensing the shift in power.

Seon's eyes glowed with a cold, malevolent light as he activated one of his most feared techniques—Black Fang Claw. His hands, now wreathed in dark energy, transformed into lethal weapons, each finger tipped with razor-sharp Qi that hummed with deadly intent.

Jin's heart raced. He had seen Seon use this technique before, tearing through opponents with ease. One misstep, and those claws would rip him apart.

But Jin didn't falter. He tightened his stance, his muscles coiling with anticipation. This was the moment he had been waiting for—the moment when Seon would unleash his full power.

And Jin was ready.

Seon dashed forward, his hands slashing through the air with terrifying speed. Jin dodged the first swipe, but the second caught him across the shoulder, tearing through his robes and drawing blood. Pain flared in his arm, but he didn't retreat.

Instead, Jin lunged forward, using the momentum of the attack to close the distance between them. His body moved like a shadow, fluid and elusive, as he ducked under Seon's next strike and launched a Serpent's Strike aimed at Seon's ribs.

The blow connected, driving the air from Seon's lungs, but Jin didn't stop. He followed up with a series of rapid punches, each one faster and more precise than the last. Seon's defenses crumbled as Jin's fists rained down on him, pushing him back step by step.

Jin could see the cracks forming in Seon's calm exterior. His brother's movements were growing more frantic, his attacks less coordinated. Seon was losing control, and Jin was relentless in his assault.

With one final burst of speed, Jin slipped behind Seon again, his fist coiling back for the finishing blow. But before he could strike, Seon twisted, his eyes blazing with fury. Dark Qi exploded from his body, sending a shockwave that knocked Jin off his feet and sent him skidding across the platform.

Jin gasped for breath, his body aching from the impact. He struggled to his feet, blood trickling down his arm, but his eyes remained locked on Seon.

The fight was far from over.

Seon stood at the center of the platform, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with a cold, burning rage. "You're more of a challenge than I expected," Seon admitted, his voice low and dangerous. "But this is where it ends."

Jin wiped the blood from his mouth, his fists clenching at his sides. "You're wrong," he said, his voice steady. "This is just the beginning."