Han's eyes lingered for a moment on Wu and Lin, his expression unreadable. These two aren't that bad, he thought, a rare flicker of respect surfacing. They weren't his equals yet, but there was something about their resolve—something worth acknowledging.
Across from him, Wu and Lin exchanged a glance, their eyes narrowing with determination. He's really strong, Lin thought, his grip tightening on his spear. More than I expected. Wu's face was unreadable, but his mind was clear—We'll need to be careful. This fight will push us further than we've ever gone.
The two nodded almost imperceptibly, the moment of mutual understanding passing between them like a breath held too long. Without a word, they lunged forward.
…
The ground beneath them seemed to hum with tension as the three combatants squared off.
Wu was the first to move, his fan snapping open with a sharp crack. He spun it with effortless grace, using it more as a shield than a weapon, its edges glowing faintly with a defensive aura. Fan Shield Defense, a technique that allowed him to block and redirect incoming attacks with precision. The fan was a barrier, both graceful and powerful, deflecting any strike that came his way.
Lin, his spear gleaming in the dim light, stepped forward with a swift, almost casual motion. He held his weapon like an extension of his body, the spear tip catching the light. He executed a basic yet highly effective technique: Piercing Vortex, where his spear spun in a wide arc, creating a whirlwind of sharp strikes designed to keep opponents at bay while maintaining offensive pressure. The spear moved like a snake, sharp and relentless, pushing Han back.
Han remained calm, his gaze unshaken. His hand raised slowly, palm open, as though welcoming the challenge. Wu's fan sliced through the air, but Han was already stepping to the side. The fan collided with his sleeve, the force of it sending a ripple through his robe, but he didn't flinch. He was already within striking range, and his hand surged forward.
"Crushing Wave Palm."
It wasn't a roar. It wasn't a battle cry. It was a statement of intent, cold and cutting.
Wu, anticipating the attack, quickly shifted his fan to intercept, his defense solidifying just in time. The Fan Shield Defense met the palm, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, the two forces clashed. The shield hummed with power, but Han's palm pressed on, pushing Wu back with the subtlety of a storm crashing against a wall.
Lin reacted instinctively, darting in with his spear to strike Han from the side. But Han was faster than either of them expected. His body twisted with fluid grace, sidestepping the spear's thrust, and with a flick of his wrist, he sent a wave of pressure that broke through Wu's fan shield, sending it flying back.
Lin's spear came down again, but Han met it with an open palm, using the force to send it skittering away. The crowd watched in stunned silence as the dust settled, leaving only the two standing in the center of the arena.
Wu and Lin paused, exchanging a quick look. Neither of them spoke, but both could feel it—the weight of Han's presence, the raw power behind his technique, and the unspoken challenge that lay between them.
They weren't done yet.
Wu and Lin moved as one, a synchronized force—each strike and maneuver designed to corner Han. The air around them seemed to crackle with energy, but Han remained unyielding, his palm techniques cutting through the chaos like a blade through fog.
Wu's fan snapped open with a sharp crack, unleashing a powerful gust of wind that whipped through the arena. He aimed for Han's right side, forcing him to sidestep. The fan cut through the air like a blade, but Han's movement was smooth—his palm deflected the strike, the fan's edge barely grazing his arm.
Lin moved in immediately, thrusting his spear forward with precision. The spear tip was aimed straight for Han's chest, but Han's reflexes were honed by years of combat. He pivoted at the last second, but the spear still found its mark—scraping his side with a swift, shallow cut. It wasn't deep, but the pain was sharp, and the blood that dripped down his robe was a reminder of his vulnerability.
Han's expression didn't change. The slight injury only fueled his determination.
"You're not bad," he muttered, his voice low, but the edge of admiration was clear. He pressed his palm forward again, his Crushing Wave Palm blasting toward Wu's fan. The wind pressure from the strike threw Wu off balance, but he recovered quickly, his fan raised in a defensive stance, still maintaining his ground.
But Lin was quick to capitalize on Wu's momentary weakness. He pressed forward with his spear, his attacks more aggressive now, pushing Han to backpedal. Yet Han didn't retreat. He slid back with calculated grace, his palm deflecting Lin's spear strike while still pushing forward, closing the distance between them.
Lin, with his spear now angled downward, prepared to thrust again—but Han's palm met the tip just as it came down, redirecting the force and sending Lin stumbling backward, his feet slipping in the dust.
For a brief moment, Lin's vision blurred—his left leg twisted as he lost his footing. It wasn't a deep wound, but the pain from the ankle's strain sent him crashing into the ground. His spear flew from his hand, skittering across the arena, leaving him exposed.
Wu moved quickly to intercept, fanning out with precision, his gaze flicking between Han and Lin. He launched another barrage of wind blades, hoping to cover Lin's recovery. But Han was already on the move, his foot sweeping through the dirt as he evaded the wind blades, his palm swinging with an almost eerie calm.
The impact of his palm against the ground cracked the floor beneath him, sending vibrations through the arena. Lin scrambled to his feet, but it was clear he wasn't at full strength. The pain from his injury slowed him down, and Han wasted no time in capitalizing on it.
"You're fast," Han said, his voice low, "but even speed has its limits."
Wu glanced at Lin, nodding in silent understanding. This fight had escalated beyond just strength—it was now about surviving, about pushing past limits. The injury had weakened their coordination, but it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.
With a shared nod, the two of them squared off against Han once more.