Something was very, very wrong with this duel. He had noticed it almost instantly, but couldn't do anything to prevent the whole fight from going sideways. In fact, although it seemed as though he was holding his own and even advancing on the young swordsman, Sunny was actually scrambling to save his life every second.
It was horrifyingly reminiscent with his encounter against the Mirror Beast. But also completely different.
First of all, Yanqing had not only replicated Sunny's dark odachi, but he was even fighting exactly like him. Their blades danced in a dark flurry of deadly attacks, and yet, neither was able to overwhelm the other.
…Until Yanqing's weapon broke.
'Now!'
Without any hesitation, Sunny had tried to end the battle right there, his blade cleaving through the air.
Unfortunately, Serpent was blocked by another perfect replica of itself, leaving Sunny open as he rushed to defend himself from Yanqing's counter.
The second point was the copy of Serpent in Yanqing's hands was very fragile, and would break after a few skirmishes. This was would create an opening that Sunny would instinctively take, but would be countered when another weapon was summoned at lightning-fast speeds.
This combination of being able to copy both the skills and weapon of his opponents made Yanqing formidable. Luckily, Sunny kept improving as he learned to surpass himself with each clash…
…Which brought him to his third point.
'Damnation!'
With every movement of their blades in a harrowing cacophony of violence, Sunny's growth increased expeditiously. He began to find minor flaws in his own battle art, quickly rectifying them before converting them into strengths. His mind began to gain new insights — not into the skills of another, but his own.
His massive improvements were apparent as the battle grew in intensity. The intent of his blade became clearer, almost as if it was destined to destroy his opponent through nothing but his will. His shadow danced along with him, perfectly shadowing his movements.
And yet, it was never enough.
Every improvement Sunny made, Yanqing reflected. That was why their battle hadn't ended yet despite the fact that Sunny was gaining exponential growth.
It was maddening, honestly. Despite having both Shadow Dance and [The War], some talented guy was able to keep up with him! That wasn't even considering his abnormal speed and the masterful control of his Soul Essence, which far surpassed Sunny's… it was like he had trained for decades!
It was the only reason why Yanqing hadnt been completely overpowered by the strength of an Awakened Demon.
Sunny's thoughts were rapidly progressing as he tried to come up with a way to deal with Yanqing. He didn't want to use his Aspect, nor did he want to activate the passive effects of the Destruction or Preservation. He wanted to win with nothing but his skill.
So, Sunny changed Serpent's form into that of a spear, stepping around Yanqing's own inky odachi. As he sent out a devestating thrust, he was promptly parried as Yanqing's weapon shattered. Before Sunny could capitalize on this moment of weakness, he was instantly faced with a replicated spear.
Their battle shifted into a symphony of spinning and thrusting their polearms. Shafts slammed against eachother while stabs were quickly deflected and countered. At certain points, their weapons would pierce through their defenses to harmlessly scratch their armor. After all, not only were they using Dormant weapons, but they both had high-quality defensive Memories.
As such, it wasn't easy to break through their defenses to create an injury.
Everytime Sunny changed the shape of Serpent, Yanqing seemed to allow his copy to be destroyed in favor of a new one. This allowed Sunny to decipher the limitations to his Aspect.
'Could he only copy the enchantments of genuine Memories?'
Serpent was a Shadow Creature, and was alive. Thus, it was possible that Yanqing could only replicate it's form as a weapon, but not it's Attributes and Abilities. Which meant he had to sacrifice a weapon to make a new one whenever Sunny shifted the shape of his own Soul Serpent.
And when Sunny turned Serpent into a shield, Yanqing seemed to refuse to copy it.
'Only bladed weapons, huh?'
In response, Sunny changed his weapon back to an odachi, continuing the fight.
Although Sunny would have had an advantage if he stuck with the shield, that would have lessened the gains that Sunny could have achieved in this fight. As he saw it, as long as he kept fighting Yanqing, he would be able to grow infinitely!
And Sunny was not one to refuse abusing such a fated encounter!
'Come on! Keep getting better, blondie!'
The stage trembled under the clash of two monstrous forces; a shadow that kept advancing, and a blade that didn't break. The arena crowd had long fallen into stunned silence, the final match of the tournament turning into something far beyond their expectations. Not a duel. Not even a war.
This was a spiral.
Yanqing stepped forward, matching Sunny's swing with his own — perfect angle, perfect weight, perfect timing.
Sunny laughed, the grin behind the mask manic and wild. Due to the enchantments of Weaver's Mask, his sounded completely unfamiliar and unnatural, unrecognizable by human standards. The audience flinched as the supposedly emotionless, calm and collected Mongrel wannabe was drowning in a bloodthirsty elation.
Their blades collided again. Two odachis meeting at the midpoint, the force behind them enough to send ripples as the rose petals around them fluttered in a hurricane of disastrous force.
Yanqing's eyes burned with golden focus, his body poised like an artist mid-stroke.
Then Sunny feinted low — an old habit, a weakness in his pattern.
Yanqing mirrored it.
But Sunny had already shifted mid-movement, correcting the flaw before it even completed.
His odachi came from above in a descending arc — flawless, silent, inevitable.
Yanqing blocked, but only barely. He staggered a half-step back in the face of Sunny's superior strength.
Sunny's heart would have leapt if he still had one.
But the elation lasted a mere heartbeat.
The next moment, Yanqing's stance changed — he had absorbed the correction and made it his own. His next strike almost sent Sunny reeling.
The sword was no longer just Sunny's.
They were transforming. Becoming something cleaner, sharper, and deadlier.
Superior.
Serpent dissolved into smoke — no, into liquid shadow — and reformed in an instant. A glaive this time, long and graceful, like the spine of some ancient serpent god.
Yanqing's odachi shattered again.
And again, a moment later, a mirror image of the glaive rose in his hands.
Their weapons arced through the air in sweeping cuts, circling, curving, creating walls of steel and wind that threatened to cleave the entire arena in two.
But no hits landed. It was simply an endless cycle, a perpetual motion machine.
Sunny spun, dragging the glaive's butt across the floor, kicking up dust. In a blur, he changed it again — this time into twin daggers — and closed the distance.
Yanqing's glaive shattered.
For just a flicker of time, he had no weapon.
Sunny pounced.
One dagger slashed forward, another reversed in a rising arc…
Twin blades met twin blades. Yanqing had adapted in mid-motion, snapping into the new stance as though he had predicted it.
They locked, face to face, so close they could hear each other's breath.
They launched into the next exchange — rapid, unpredictable, vicious. Their weapons changed faster now — halberd to saber, saber to scythe, scythe to longsword.
The sound of breaking metal became a rhythm in itself.
A melody of growth.
A hymn of escalation.
Somewhere in the stands, people were gasping.
In their eyes, two fighters were improving at rates that had never been seen before. It wasn't even talent anymore. Just pure, unadulterated evolution.
Sunny's body moved before his thoughts could catch up. His technique was evolving faster than logic could explain. An elbow strike here. A pivot there. The curve of a parry became a thrust. A failed swing became a trap.
And all of it…
All of it was mirrored.
He ducked under a crescent blade, swept out with a foot, then stopped mid-movement.
Yanqing had already reacted to the kick that never came, leaving his balance slightly off.
Sunny's eye twitched.
He was copying feints he hadn't even done yet.
'This bastard is copying intention?!'
And still, he didn't stop. He couldn't.
Because if he did — if he even hesitated — Yanqing would overtake him.
And that wasn't allowed.
So Sunny pushed harder.
Faster.
Sharper.
A dozen blows in a blink. Yanqing met each one.
Then added one more.
Sunny's shadow screamed against the stone, locked into an endless cyclic dance. It mimicked him perfectly, throwing strikes with impossible synchronization.
Yanqing's blade clashed with both man and shade, adapting — adapting faster than should be possible.
The crowd began to stand. A tide of tension rolling through the arena. No cheers. Just breathless awe. The Saints themselves — forces of nature in human skin — began to stare with widened eyes, witnessing levels of skill that they have never even achieved.
Two humans.
No, not humans.
Two storms, coiled into each other, devouring everything in their wake.
Perpetual motion.
Perpetual growth.
And somewhere, buried in the chaos, a single thought burned in Sunny's mind:
'If I fight him long enough… will I become a god?'
That thought, however, would never become actualized.
Because in the end, the battle was between an Awakened human… and a Demon.
Although Yanqing matched him, and even surpassed him at moments, there was a very clear limitation.
His Soul Core went dry. Sunny still had plenty of Essence to spare.
The moment Yanqing's skill plummeted, the moment his weapon shattered and he couldn't create another, Sunny had already won.
The dark odachi hissed as it cut the air, and the figure in black armor moved past the young man, stopping a few steps behind him.
Sunny sighed and lowered the Soul Serpent.
Behind him, Yanqing swayed lightly, and then fell into a torrent of white sparks.
For a couple of seconds, the magnificent courtyard was silent.
And then, it became filled with deafening cheers from the crowd.
Sunny looked at the celebrating spectators, breathing heavily.
'Did I… did I really do it? Did I win?'
As if to answer his thought, the voice of the Dreascape announced:
"Challenger Yanqing was eliminated. Glory to the victor! The champion of the annual Dream Tournament is…"
However, the pleasant voice was drowned by the chanting of the crowd:
"...Mongrel! Mongrel! Mongrel!"
The first attack that drew blood… was also the last.
Behind Weaver's Mask, Sunny grinned as the adrenaline died out.
'You were a magnificent opponent, Yanqing. I'll never forget you for as long as I live…'
He paused.
'Why am I acting like he's dead? I'll just find him later for round two.'