The following day brought clear skies and the scent of ash drifting across the sect grounds. Yan Rui stood on the training field, surrounded by fellow outer disciples. The space was vast, dotted with wooden training dummies, sparring rings, and scorch marks from countless battles.
Today was the day Zhao Yi had promised to evaluate their combat skills further—this time through direct duels. Yan Rui's victory over the Flame Wyrm had earned him some respect, but among the disciples present, many still regarded him with scorn or indifference.
Lin Zhan, in particular, seemed eager to put him in his place. The burly disciple stood across the field, practicing strikes with a heavy iron saber. His movements were powerful, and the ground trembled slightly under his feet.
"He's going to challenge you," Fei Yue said quietly as she walked up to Yan Rui. She had her arms crossed and a faint smirk on her lips. "You've caught his attention after yesterday's task."
Yan Rui adjusted his grip on the simple wooden sword he had chosen for practice. "Let him. I'll handle it."
Fei Yue raised an eyebrow. "Confident, aren't you? I hope that confidence isn't misplaced. Lin Zhan isn't just strong—he's ruthless."
Yan Rui gave a small nod but said nothing. The Ember Vein Constitution within him had started to awaken, and he could feel its potential surging through his body. But he wasn't foolish enough to think that raw talent alone would carry him to victory.
---
Zhao Yi stepped into the center of the training field, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered disciples. "Today, you will spar to test your skills and refine your techniques. Remember—these duels are not just about winning. They are about survival and adaptation. If you cannot fight here, you will not survive in the outside world."
The disciples stood in silence, tension thick in the air. Zhao Yi pointed toward the sparring rings. "Step forward when called. Do not hold back, but do not kill your opponent. Injuries are to be expected, but deliberate crippling will be punished."
He began calling names, pairing disciples for their matches. Fei Yue was matched with a wiry young man known for his speed. The two moved with grace and precision, exchanging rapid strikes that drew murmurs of admiration from the spectators.
When Fei Yue claimed victory, she walked back to Yan Rui, barely winded. "Your turn is coming," she said, her tone light but her eyes watchful.
Finally, Zhao Yi called out, "Yan Rui versus Lin Zhan!"
A ripple of excitement swept through the crowd. Disciples whispered to one another, eager to see the outcome of this unlikely match.
Yan Rui stepped into the ring, gripping his wooden sword tightly. Across from him, Lin Zhan cracked his knuckles, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
"Don't think yesterday's task makes you my equal," Lin Zhan sneered. "You're still nothing more than a weakling pretending to be strong."
Yan Rui didn't respond. He simply raised his sword and settled into a defensive stance.
Zhao Yi's voice cut through the chatter. "Begin!"
Lin Zhan lunged forward, his iron saber cutting through the air with a heavy swing. Yan Rui sidestepped just in time, the blade grazing the edge of his robe. The crowd gasped at the speed of the attack.
"You won't dodge forever!" Lin Zhan roared, pressing his assault. His strikes were powerful, each blow forcing Yan Rui to retreat. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, the impact jarring Yan Rui's arms.
But as the fight progressed, Yan Rui began to notice a pattern. Lin Zhan's attacks were strong but predictable, each swing telegraphed by the movement of his shoulders and feet. Yan Rui's time spent chopping wood in Ember Village had given him a keen eye for such things.
He began to counter, stepping into Lin Zhan's strikes rather than away. Each time, he deflected the saber with his wooden sword, redirecting the force of the blow and creating openings.
Lin Zhan's frustration grew evident. "Stop dodging and fight me head-on!" he bellowed.
Yan Rui smirked faintly. "Why should I fight on your terms?"
The comment earned a few chuckles from the crowd, further angering Lin Zhan. With a roar, the burly disciple swung his saber in a wide arc, pouring all his strength into the attack.
This was the moment Yan Rui had been waiting for. He ducked under the swing and stepped in close, driving his shoulder into Lin Zhan's chest. The larger disciple staggered back, off-balance.
Seizing the opportunity, Yan Rui struck with his wooden sword, delivering a sharp blow to Lin Zhan's wrist. The iron saber fell from his grip, clattering to the ground. Before Lin Zhan could recover, Yan Rui's sword was at his throat.
The crowd fell silent, stunned by the outcome.
"Enough!" Zhao Yi's voice rang out. "Yan Rui wins."
Yan Rui lowered his sword and stepped back, breathing heavily. Lin Zhan glared at him, his pride clearly wounded, but he didn't dare make a move.
---
As the crowd dispersed, Fei Yue approached Yan Rui, her expression unreadable. "That was… impressive," she admitted. "But you've made an enemy today."
"I'm aware," Yan Rui replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But I can't afford to hold back, not if I want to survive here."
Fei Yue nodded. "Fair enough. Just watch your back. Lin Zhan isn't the type to let something like this go."
As Yan Rui walked away from the sparring grounds, he felt a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. He had taken another step forward, proving to himself and the sect that he wasn't as weak as they believed.
But deep down, he knew the path ahead would only grow more dangerous. If he was to rise within the Flameborne Sect, he would need to cultivate not just his strength but also his resolve.
For the fire within him was still growing, and he intended to fan its flames until it burned brighter than anyone else's.
---