Chapter 12: A Duel for Survival

The sun barely peeked over the horizon when Zhang Ye arrived at the forge. His muscles still ached from yesterday's brutal training, but his mind was sharper than ever.

Last night's vision had confirmed it the Sky Piercing Sword was real.

And if he wanted to claim it, he needed to grow stronger. Fast.

Master He was already there, hammering away at a heated blade, the clang, clang, clang ringing through the morning air. He barely looked up when Zhang Ye stepped in.

"You're early."

Zhang Ye smirked. "You're getting predictable. I knew you'd be here first."

Master He snorted. "Cocky brat. Let's see if your body can keep up with your mouth."

He pointed to the training area behind the forge.

Zhang Ye expected another gruelling workout.

Instead, he found someone waiting for him.

A young man in brown martial robes, his arms crossed, a wooden sword strapped to his back. He looked calm, but serious.

Zhang Ye frowned. "Who's this?"

Master He leaned against the forge, arms crossed. "This is Wei Han. A wandering martial artist. He came looking for a challenge."

Zhang Ye raised a brow. "And?"

Master He smirked. "I told him you'd fight him."

Zhang Ye blinked. Wait, what?

Wei Han stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "I heard about you, Zhang Ye. The village boy who humiliated the Black Wolf Gang. I want to see if you're really worth talking about."

He reached for his sword.

Master He chuckled. "No backing out. If you want to get stronger, you need real combat experience."

Zhang Ye exhaled.

Fine. If it's a fight, then I'll win.

He rolled his shoulders, gripping his wooden sword. "Alright, Wei Han. Let's see what you've got."

Wei Han's eyes sharpened. "Prepare yourself."

Then he moved.

Fast. Too fast.

Zhang Ye's instincts screamed

The duel had begun.

Wei Han vanished.

Zhang Ye barely had time to react before the wooden sword came slicing through the air aimed straight at his ribs.

Too fast!

Zhang Ye twisted, his instincts screaming, barely dodging as the wooden blade grazed his side. He felt the rush of wind as it passed if that had been a real sword, he'd be bleeding.

Wei Han didn't stop. He flowed into his next move, his footwork sharp and precise. Another strike this time at Zhang Ye's shoulder.

Zhang Ye raised his own sword too slow.

THWACK!

Pain shot through his arm as the wooden blade slammed into his shoulder, forcing him to stagger back.

Wei Han's gaze remained calm, unreadable. "You're fast, but not fast enough."

Zhang Ye gritted his teeth. His shoulder throbbed, but he couldn't afford to think about the pain. This wasn't like fighting bandits or thugs. This was a martial artist.

A real opponent.

Good.

Zhang Ye exhaled.

Then, he attacked.

He closed the distance in an instant, bringing his sword down in a heavy, fast strike. But Wei Han's movements were effortless. He sidestepped smoothly, his own blade flicking toward Zhang Ye's side.

Zhang Ye spun his staff at the last second, using the momentum to redirect the attack.

CLACK!

The two wooden swords clashed, the force sending vibrations through Zhang Ye's arms.

Wei Han's eyes flashed with something mild surprise.

"Not bad," he admitted.

Zhang Ye smirked. "I learn fast."

Wei Han narrowed his eyes. "Then let's see if you can keep up."

He stepped forward, his strikes suddenly doubling in speed.

Zhang Ye's grin faded.

He blocked the first attack. Barely.

The second one slammed into his ribs.

The third nearly knocked his sword from his grip.

Zhang Ye staggered back, panting.

Wei Han wasn't just fast he was refining his technique mid-fight. Adjusting. Exploiting every weakness.

Damn. He's better than me.

Zhang Ye's hands trembled around his sword.

But then he smirked.

That just means I have to cheat.

Wei Han lunged for a finishing strike

And Zhang Ye let himself fall backward.

Wei Han's sword missed by a hair. Zhang Ye's back hit the ground but he used the momentum to kick upward.

His foot slammed into Wei Han's wrist.

Wei Han's grip broke his sword flipping from his hand.

Zhang Ye rolled backward, grabbed the fallen sword, and pointed it at Wei Han's throat.

Silence.

Wei Han stared at the blade inches from his neck.

Then he laughed.

"That was dirty," he admitted.

Zhang Ye grinned, still breathing hard. "You fight with skill. I fight to win."

Wei Han shook his head but smiled. "I see now why people talk about you."

Master He's deep chuckle echoed across the training ground. "Not bad. You're still sloppy, but at least you know how to think."

Zhang Ye wiped sweat from his forehead, his entire body screaming in exhaustion.

This was only the beginning.

But he had taken his first real step.

Zhang Ye lowered the wooden sword, his breath still heavy. His entire body ached, but he felt something new a strange excitement.

This was real combat. Not fighting street thugs, not outsmarting bandits. A true battle of skill.

Wei Han rubbed his wrist, eyeing Zhang Ye with newfound respect. "You're unpredictable. That's dangerous."

Zhang Ye smirked. "And you're too refined. That's predictable."

Wei Han chuckled, shaking his head. "We'll see if you're still talking after your next fight."

Master He clapped his hands together. "Enough chatter. That was decent for a first match, but you're both far from good."

Zhang Ye exhaled, rolling his sore shoulder. "Then let's fix that."

Master He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He pointed at both of them. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be sparring every day. No more wooden swords we move to real weapons."

Zhang Ye and Wei Han froze.

Xiao Lan, who had been watching anxiously from the sidelines, gasped. "Brother, that's dangerous!"

Zhang Ye wiped the sweat from his brow. "Good. That means it'll be fun."

Wei Han's smirk returned. "Finally, something interesting."

Master He nodded. "If you want to survive in Murim, you have to face real blades. No more playing around."

Zhang Ye clenched his fists. This was exactly what he needed.

Because soon he wouldn't just be fighting other trainees.

The real battles were coming.

And he needed to be ready. No matter what.

Zhang Ye could feel the weight of Master He's words. No more wooden swords. No more playing around. Real weapons. Real fights.

Wei Han's smirk didn't fade. "I won't hold back."

Zhang Ye smirked right back. "I'd be insulted if you did."

Master He chuckled. "Good. But before you two start hacking at each other, you'll need control." He turned toward the forge and grabbed two practice blades.

Unlike the wooden swords, these were made of blunted steel. Heavy. Unforgiving. One mistake, and bones would break.

Master He tossed one to Zhang Ye.

Zhang Ye caught it, his arms trembling slightly from exhaustion. The sword was heavier than he expected. Thicker than a normal blade but still sharp enough to hurt.

Master He's gaze darkened. "You need to understand something."

His voice was low, steady.

"From this point forward, every fight you have could be your last. The moment you draw your sword, you should already be prepared to kill or be killed."

Xiao Lan fidgeted nervously. "Does Brother really have to do this?"

Master He didn't look away from Zhang Ye. "If he wants to survive in Murim, yes."

Zhang Ye exhaled.

He knew this already. But hearing it like this so direct, so final made it feel real.

Wei Han gripped his blade tightly. "I'm ready."

Zhang Ye adjusted his stance, steadying himself.

Master He nodded. "Then let's begin."

The air grew thick.

For the first time, Zhang Ye wasn't just training.

He was stepping onto the real battlefield.

Zhang Ye tightened his grip on the blunted steel sword. The weight felt foreign compared to the wooden weapons he had been using, but it wasn't overwhelming.

It just meant he had to adjust.

Wei Han stood opposite him, blade held at a perfect angle, his stance balanced and poised. Trained. Disciplined. This wasn't just another spar this was a real test.

Master He watched from the side, arms crossed. "No reckless slashing. No wild attacks. This isn't about strength. It's about control."

Wei Han nodded. Zhang Ye smirked. "Let's see if you can keep up, then."

Wei Han moved first.

A step forward clean, precise. His sword flashed toward Zhang Ye's ribs. A standard opening strike one meant to test defenses.

Zhang Ye sidestepped, his own sword tilting just enough to deflect the attack. CLANG! The impact sent vibrations up his arm. Heavier than wood, slower than a staff.

He had to adapt.

Wei Han's movements didn't stop. He followed up with a second attack, a downward slash toward Zhang Ye's shoulder.

Zhang Ye ducked. The blade whistled past.

Then he countered.

He twisted, using the momentum from the dodge to swing upward, aiming for Wei Han's ribs.

CLANG!

Wei Han blocked.

The force pushed both of them back slightly. They reset. The next move could go either way.

Wei Han smirked. "Better than I expected."

Zhang Ye grinned, rolling his shoulders. "I'm just getting started."

Master He watched silently.

This wasn't just a simple spar anymore.

It was the first step toward real swordsmanship.