The valley was silent. Only the faint hum of spirit energy lingered in the air, like the echo of a battle long forgotten. After the confrontation in the Spirit Orchid Grove, Lin Yuan had secluded himself beneath the waterfall's hidden cave. The rhythmic pounding of the falling water masked his breath, while his body floated cross-legged above the pool's surface.
Streams of qi coiled around him — silver and azure — drawn from the essence of the surrounding mountains. The flow of his meridians pulsed in perfect rhythm, expanding and contracting with his heartbeat.
For seven days, he had neither eaten nor slept. Only cultivation — and the ghost of his master's final words — kept him tethered to the world.
"A blade's shadow is not its weakness… it is its other self. Learn to strike with both."
As dawn broke on the eighth day, Lin Yuan's eyes snapped open. A faint silver gleam flashed within — sharp as a sword's edge. The waterfall split around his body, forced away by his aura alone.
He exhaled slowly.
"Spirit Core… condensed."
The pool trembled. The qi around him compressed into a sphere before being absorbed into his dantian. The moment his breakthrough stabilized, the shadows within the cave twisted.
Something was watching him.
A faint laughter echoed — dry and serpentine.
"So… you finally cross the threshold."
Lin Yuan's pupils shrank. He rose slowly, his spiritual sense expanding outward.
The shadow peeled away from the stone wall, forming into the outline of a man clad in black robes — the Shadow Blade Sect emblem glimmering faintly at his chest.
"You're far from your sect," Lin Yuan said coldly. "What business does a shadow have here?"
The man's grin widened. "You carry the aura of the Spirit Orchid. The sect has long awaited someone who survived the Grove. Hand over what you found… and you may keep your life."
Lin Yuan's gaze hardened. His left hand moved — not toward his sword, but toward his reflection in the water.
The reflection moved first.
A silver streak flashed — the mirror image lunged from the water, blade drawn. The assassin barely had time to react before the sword carved through his sleeve, grazing his arm.
"What—"
"Dual Blade Art — Mirror Manifestation." Lin Yuan's voice was calm, but his aura surged, filling the cavern with blinding light. His reflection obeyed his movements — each slash mirrored perfectly, as if the cave itself were wielding another sword.
The assassin retreated, vanishing into shadows again. "You think illusions will save you?"
Lin Yuan smirked. "This is no illusion."
The shadow lunged, forming ten silhouettes that struck from every direction. Lin Yuan stood still, eyes closed — letting his spirit sense read the air. Then, both he and his reflection moved as one, their blades intersecting in a spiraling dance.
The sound of metal against metal rang like thunder.
When it ended, the assassin staggered backward — his shadows unraveling. Blood trickled from his lips as he fell to one knee.
"Impossible… The Mirror Art was lost centuries ago…"
"Not lost," Lin Yuan replied softly, lowering his sword. "Only hidden."
The man tried to rise, but Lin Yuan's reflection struck once more — clean and silent. The shadow shattered, fading into mist.
Silence returned to the cavern. Only the echo of his master's words lingered again.
Lin Yuan sheathed his sword, looking at his own reflection — which now moved perfectly in sync, no delay, no distortion.
He whispered to himself,
"The blade's shadow… is not its weakness. It's its other self."
A faint smile tugged at his lips. He stepped out into the rising dawn. The mist around the waterfall swirled like silver flames, parting before him.
Far to the north, a bell tolled — the sign of war.
The Heavenly Sky Sect and the Crimson Lotus Alliance had finally begun their long-awaited conflict.
Lin Yuan clenched his fist.
"The path ahead is steep… but this world will remember my blade."
He vanished into the forest mist, leaving behind only ripples on the water — where his reflection bowed once more before fading away.