I stood surrounded.
Men circled me from every side, their eyes sharp, hostile… like they were only waiting for a weapon to be placed in their hands before cutting me down.
At the edge of it all-
Qian.
He stood there as if none of this concerned him.
As if throwing me into this was nothing.
When our eyes met, he smirked.
A servant approached him, bowing low as she offered a wooden sword.
Qian took it… then tossed it toward me.
"Shall we begin?" he said.
The crowd erupted.
Not in encouragement,
but in anticipation.
The kind of noise people make when they expect to witness a death.
I caught the sword mid-air.
Light.
Too light.
I turned it in my hand, flipping it once… twice.
Then my fingers ran along its edge.
Blunt.
Completely useless.
My gaze lifted to Qian.
What am I supposed to kill with this?
He seemed to understand.
A faint smile touched his lips.
I can't exactly let you kill my men.
"Begin!"
His voice cut through everything.
The crowd roared.
Too loud.
Too chaotic.
I pressed my hands against my ears for a brief second and that was enough.
A figure broke from the crowd.
Fast.
A blade came down toward me.
My body moved before my thoughts could catch up.
Clack !
Wood met steel.
The impact ran through my arms like a shockwave, forcing my balance back.
My footing slipped.
The ground met me hard.
Laughter.
It spread instantly.
Sharp. Mocking.
"What is this kid even doing here?"
"Did Master bring him to entertain us?"
"A joke. He's a complete joke."
Their voices overlapped, careless and cruel.
I exhaled slowly.
"…Idiots."
My grip tightened around the wooden sword.
I lifted it again...
and swung.
Once.
Twice.
Cutting through the air.
Listening.
Feeling.
Testing its weight.
Its rhythm.
"…Not bad," I murmured.
They saw it.
And rushed in.
All at once.
I didn't move.
Didn't step back.
Didn't flinch.
Now…
This is my sword.
Their footsteps pounded against the ground as they closed in.
Weapons raised.
Intent clear.
But to me,
they were slow.
Too slow.
The first came from the left.
I stepped aside,
crack !
The wooden blade struck his wrist, forcing his weapon free before he even realized.
A turn,
the back of my blade drove into his ribs.
He dropped.
Another from behind,
I pivoted.
The sword cut low,
thud !
His legs gave out beneath him.
Two at once.
One high. One low.
I stepped between them.
The wooden blade moved like it had always belonged in my hand.
One strike.
Two.
Precise.
Effortless.
They fell.
The world slowed.
Or perhaps....
I became faster.
Each movement was clear.
Each strike deliberate.
I didn't rush.
Didn't waste motion.
Didn't hesitate.
One.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
Twenty.... That's it?
They fell like numbers being counted.
Like something already decided.
By the time the last one hit the ground,
silence had taken over.
The crowd froze.
Their voices gone.
Their eyes wide.
Confused.
"What… just happened?"
"Did you see that?"
"How did they fall?"
"Was that… him?"
I didn't look at them.
Didn't care.
My gaze went to Qian.
He was watching me.
Not surprised.
Not shocked.
Just…
interested.
Then,
he began to clap.
Slow.
Measured.
"Well done," he said, loud enough for all to hear.
The silence broke.
But this time,
it was different.
Not laughter.
Not mockery.
Applause.
They weren't laughing at me anymore.
They were cheering.
For me.
Qian stepped forward, his presence cutting through the noise.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Qian stopped a few steps away from me.
Close enough.
Too close.
His eyes met mine.
Sharp.
Interested.
Dangerous.
"…You held back," he said quietly.
I tilted my head slightly.
"And you didn't give me a real sword."
A pause.
Then...
that smirk returned.
"Good," Qian said.
Qian lifted the sword, resting it lightly against his shoulder.
The crowd went quite...Not that they forget to speak, maybe it just stuck in their throats...
His gaze never left mine.He calmly said,
"It's my turn."