The Sword Saint's study resonated with the hum of unsheathed anticipation. Li Lingfeng's invitation hung between them like a naked blade, its edge gleaming with promises Zhao Rui had chased since first grasping the Eight Desolations Immortal-Slaying Art.
"An exchange of pointers," Li amended, though his coal-black eyes betrayed celestial hunger. "My disciples grow complacent bathing in Shu's reflected glory. Let them witness true tempests."
Dun Che's teacup shattered as he surged forward. "Brother! You can't—"
Zhao Rui raised a hand, silencing the demon. His second元神's golden armor pulsed beneath mortal guise, its dragon-scale patterns writhing in recognition of a worthy adversary. "Where?"
Li's smile unveiled filed teeth. "The Hall of Severed Reflections. Its mirrors remember ten thousand duels."
Echoes of Vanquished Blades
The chamber breathed with petrified violence. Frost-limned mirrors stretched endlessly, each pane preserving the final moments of legendary swordsmen - a crimson spray here, a bisected daoist there. Li Lingfeng's shadow fragmented across crystalline surfaces, his bare feet leaving steaming prints on qi-hardened jade.
"Choose your truth, Storm-Caller." The Sword Saint gestured to racks groaning with cursed steel. "Bleeding Moon Saber? Thousand Ghost Spire? Or..." His nail traced a blackened longsword oozing primordial malice. "...the Bone of Yellow Dragon?"
Zhao Rui's fingers brushed the Ten Thousand Laws Tome at his waist. "My hands suffice."
A ripple disturbed the death-still air. The mirrors' captive warriors turned as one, hollow eyes tracking fresh prey.
First Movement: Celestial Gambit
Li struck without preamble - a fingertip thrust carrying the weight of collapsing stars. Zhao Rui's golden armor materialized mid-parry, dragon scales screaming against distilled sword intent. The impact cratered mirror-panels into glittering shrapnel.
"Five percent," Li mused, circling like a stalking tiger. "Your tome's protection weakens near Shu's geomantic veins."
Zhao Rui spat bloodied phoenix ash. "Ninety-five remains."
Their dance escalated - Li's attacks etching reality itself with lingering blade scars, Zhao Rui's counters painting golden sigils in defensive mandalas. The chamber's temperature seesawed between molten steel and absolute zero as opposing domains clashed.
Interlude: Whispering Glass
Dun Che's claws dug bloody furrows in obsidian pillars. "Why isn't he using the lance?!"
Xuanling's beard bristled with nervous energy. "The Nine Heavens Thunder Lance would shatter this chamber's balance. Your brother walks the razor's edge of—"
A concussive boom drowned his warning. Li's palm strike sent Zhao Rui skidding through three mirror dimensions, each fragmented reflection showing alternate deaths - beheaded, bisected, disemboweled.
"Twenty percent," Li intoned. "Will you draw steel now?"
Crescendo: Dragon's Answer
Zhao Rui rose amidst prismatic debris. The Tome fluttered open to an illustration of twin dragons devouring a sword-shaped mountain. Golden motes swirled from its pages, coalescing into a barbed gauntlet around his right fist.
"Still... my hands."
The counterstroke birthed a miniature supernova. Li's defensive array shattered like sugar glass, his retreating steps cracking the chamber's foundation. For three heartbeats, Shu Mountain's peaks trembled.
Silence and Aftermath
Dust settled on a tableau of mutual ruin. Li's left sleeve hung in tatters, smoking blood dripping from a fractal-patterned wound. Zhao Rui leaned against a half-melted pillar, golden armor flickering like dying embers.
"Thirty... percent," the Sword Saint gasped, laughter tinged with awe. "By the Nine Heavenly Tribulations..."
Mirrors reformed, their surfaces now preserving new ghosts - a golden phantom fist shattering celestial defenses, a dragon's tail bisecting sword intent.
Dun Che vaulted the barrier, catching Zhao Rui as his legs buckled. "You crazy son of a—"
"Enough." Li waved a hand, mending fractures in reality. "Today, Shu Mountain acknowledges two truths." His gaze burned into Zhao Rui's soul. "First - you'll surpass me within two centuries."
Xuanling choked. "Li! You can't—"
"Second..." The Sword Saint's smile turned feral. "...the Celestial Masters will move against you before next moonrise."
Epilogue: Storm's Harbinger
As twilight bled across Shu's peaks, Zhao Rui's entourage descended through gathering thunderheads. Far above, Li Lingfeng conversed with fractured reflections.
"Was the risk warranted?" asked the mirror holding Blood Sea Patriarch's essence.
The Sword Saint traced his oozing wound. "Better my hall than Jian Chenghuang's prison. Let Dragon-Tiger Mountain test the anvil before true hammers fall."
In Shanghai's neon glow, Shi Compound's defenses flared crimson - not recognizing the cataclysm their returning guest carried in bleeding knuckles and rewritten destiny.