Time passed.
The two figures moved at the same time.
**CLANG!**
Their swords collided.
Lían's small arms trembled violently from the impact, but he didn't retreat.
The copy twisted its wrist.
Lían immediately adjusted his grip.
Another slash came from the side.
He ducked.
The blade passed over his head.
Lían stepped forward and swung toward the copy's waist.
The copy blocked.
**CLANG!**
Their blades separated.
Then—
they clashed again.
And again.
The exchange became faster.
Lían's feet moved across the surface of the water without sinking.
Step.
Turn.
Block.
Dodge.
Counter.
He was no longer simply reacting to the sword in front of him.
He was beginning to anticipate the movements before they happened.
The copy thrust forward.
Lían shifted his body sideways.
The sword passed dangerously close to his ribs.
He immediately countered.
The copy tilted its body.
Lían's blade narrowly missed.
The two separated.
Lían breathed heavily.
*...Again.*
The copy lunged.
Lían raised his sword.
**CLANG!**
The impact forced him backward.
His feet slid across the surface of the water.
He quickly recovered his balance.
The copy was already there.
A horizontal slash.
Lían ducked.
A second strike followed immediately.
He twisted his body.
The blade cut through his sleeve.
A third strike descended from above.
Lían raised his sword.
**CLANG!**
His arms shook violently.
His teeth clenched.
He pushed the blade aside.
Then—
he stepped forward.
His sword flashed toward the copy's chest.
The copy moved aside.
Lían followed.
Their blades crossed once more.
For several breaths—
neither side gained an advantage.
Then—
the copy suddenly changed its rhythm.
Lían's eyes widened.
*...Too fast.*
The sword slipped past his guard.
**SHHK!**
Pain exploded across his chest.
Blood scattered across the surface of the water.
Lían's body froze.
The copy's sword continued through him.
Darkness swallowed his vision.
---
Lían reappeared.
He immediately drew in a sharp breath.
His small hands tightened around the sword.
The pain was already fading.
He looked at the copy.
It was waiting.
Lían didn't speak.
He simply raised his sword.
The copy's eyes narrowed slightly.
Then—
they moved again.
This time—
Lían didn't try to win immediately.
He watched.
He blocked.
He dodged.
He retreated only when necessary.
Each time he died—
he returned.
Each time he returned—
he remembered.
His movements gradually became sharper.
His reactions became faster.
His understanding deepened.
Yet the copy remained ahead.
Again—
Lían was cut down.
Again—
he returned.
Again—
he charged forward.
And again—
he died.
Time passed.
The endless white remained unchanged.
Only the sound of clashing swords continued to echo across the water.
**CLANG!**
**CLANG!**
**SHING!**
Lían's sword met the copy's again.
This time—
he managed to force the copy backward by a single step.
His eyes widened slightly.
*...I pushed it back.*
For the first time—
a faint smile appeared on his face.
Then—
the copy's sword suddenly reversed direction.
Lían's expression changed.
Too late.
**Slash.**
His vision went dark once again.
---
Lían appeared again.
His small body staggered slightly before he regained his balance.
He lowered the short sword.
Then—
he slowly exhaled.
"...Now I can say for sure."
The copy looked at him.
Lían glanced down at the sword in his hand.
"...It isn't just swinging."
His eyes narrowed.
"...I thought about it before."
"But now..."
"...I understand it."
The copy remained silent.
Lían continued.
"Every swing..."
"...Every step..."
"...Every movement..."
"They all connect."
His gaze became increasingly focused.
"...There's a flow to everything."
"...A sword technique..."
The copy finally spoke.
"...You noticed."
Lían looked up.
The copy continued.
"But it's not a technique."
Lían paused.
"...Not a technique?"
The copy shook its head.
"I attack to kill."
"That's all."
"My movements..."
"My swings..."
"Everything is simply the quickest way to kill you."
Silence.
The copy slowly raised its sword.
"Moving at the right moment..."
"...is the surest way to avoid death."
"Avoiding an attack."
"Blocking."
"Countering."
"Changing position."
"Every action has only one purpose."
"...To kill."
Lían stared at the copy.
The copy lowered its sword slightly.
"You could call it a technique."
"But only because..."
"...you need to learn how to do it."
Lían remained silent for several breaths.
Then—
"...So..."
He looked at the copy.
"You've been trying to teach me..."
"...by killing me?"
"Is that it?"
The copy nodded.
"Yes."
Lían's mouth twitched.
He looked away.
"...I've already lost count of how many times I've died."
He glanced down at his small hands.
"...But..."
His expression slowly changed.
"...I think I'm getting used to it."
The copy stared at him.
Lían tightened his grip around the short sword.
"The first few times..."
"...I couldn't think."
"After that..."
"...I only wanted to run."
"But now..."
He looked directly at the copy.
"...I can at least think while I'm afraid."
Silence.
The copy's eyes narrowed slightly.
Lían slowly raised his sword.
"...So this..."
"...wasn't a mistake."
His stance lowered.
His feet settled firmly against the surface of the water.
"...If dying here can teach me how to fight..."
"...then I'll learn."
The copy stared at him for a moment.
Then—
it raised its sword.
"...Good."
Its body suddenly disappeared.
Lían's pupils contracted.
He moved.
Not backward.
Not away.
His short sword swept upward.
**CLANG!**
The two blades collided.
Lían's small body slid several meters across the water.
His arms trembled from the impact.
But—
he remained standing.
His eyes widened slightly.
*I blocked it.*
The copy disappeared again.
Lían's expression sharpened.
This time—
he didn't wait.
He stepped forward.
Their swords collided again.
**CLANG!**
Then—
another exchange.
And another.
The two figures moved rapidly across the endless water.
Lían was still far weaker.
His movements were rough.
His reactions were slower.
And mistakes still came frequently.
But—
he was no longer simply being killed.
He was beginning to understand.
Each time he died—
he remembered.
Each time he returned—
he corrected something.
A footstep.
A grip.
A movement of the wrist.
The timing of a block.
The angle of a dodge.
The copy's sword pierced his chest.
Lían disappeared.
Then—
he returned.
He immediately raised his sword.
"...Again."
The copy smiled faintly.
"...Again."
They charged at each other.
**CLANG!**
**CLANG!**
**CLANG!**
The endless white world continued to echo with the sound of crossing blades.
Time flowed onward.
The endless white remained unchanged.
Again—
Lían charged.
The copy stepped forward.
Their swords collided.
**CLANG!**
Lían's wrist twisted.
He redirected the blade.
The copy immediately changed its angle.
Lían lowered his body.
The sword passed above his head.
He stepped forward.
A thrust.
The copy tilted its body.
The blade missed.
Its elbow struck Lían directly in the chest.
His body flew backward.
Before he could recover—
the sword flashed.
Darkness.
---
Lían appeared again.
He didn't hesitate.
He moved.
This time—
he didn't attack immediately.
He watched.
The copy's shoulder moved.
Lían reacted before the sword even appeared.
**CLANG!**
He blocked.
The impact forced him backward.
His feet slid across the water.
He steadied himself.
*...I saw it.*
The copy attacked again.
Lían moved sideways.
The blade passed beside him.
He swung.
The copy blocked.
**CLANG!**
Their swords crossed.
For a brief moment—
neither moved.
Then—
the copy's foot shifted.
Lían immediately recognized the movement.
*It's going to—*
The sword came.
Lían twisted.
The blade grazed his shoulder.
Blood appeared.
He ignored it.
His sword followed immediately.
The copy leaned backward.
The blade passed just before its throat.
Lían's eyes widened.
*I almost got it.*
The copy smiled.
"...Hmm."
Lían's breathing became heavier.
He didn't answer.
He simply tightened his grip.
---
Again.
And again.
And again.
Lían died.
Returned.
Fought.
Died again.
Each time—
the fear became slightly less overwhelming.
The pain never disappeared.
He still hated it.
His body still trembled whenever the blade approached.
But—
he no longer ran.
He began recognizing movements before they happened.
He learned when to block.
When to dodge.
When to retreat.
When to attack.
And, more importantly—
when **not** to move.
---
Another clash.
**CLANG!**
Lían's sword was knocked aside.
The copy's blade came toward his chest.
Instead of retreating—
Lían stepped forward.
The blade passed beside his body.
His shoulder slammed into the copy.
The copy staggered.
Lían immediately turned.
His sword swung upward.
The copy raised its blade.
**CLANG!**
Both were forced backward.
Lían landed on the water.
His feet remained firmly planted.
He stared at the copy.
The copy stared back.
Neither moved.
Then—
the copy slowly lowered its sword.
"...You've changed."
Lían breathed heavily.
"...Have I?"
"You're no longer fighting because you don't want to die."
A pause.
"You're fighting to kill."
Lían remained silent.
The copy raised its sword again.
"...There's a difference."
Lían tightened his grip.
His eyes became focused.
"...Then let's continue until I kill you."
The copy smiled.
"Good."
It disappeared.
Lían's pupils contracted.
His body moved before his thoughts could catch up.
**CLANG!**
Their swords collided again.