The hum of voices filled the training yard long before Ye Tian arrived. The air carried the smell of sweat and oiled steel, and the sound of clashing weapons from nearby practice matches echoed faintly against the stone walls. But the noise in the center of the yard was different. It was sharper, expectant, like the collective breath before a storm.
Disciples pressed in close to the dueling platform. Robes of different colors and ranks mingled together, outer and inner sect members alike, each drawn here for the same reason. The upstart outer disciple who humiliated Su Jian was going to fight again.
Ye Tian's pace was unhurried as he walked toward the platform. The press of bodies shifted to let him through, though not all out of respect. He could feel the weight of their stares, some openly hostile, others measuring him like a puzzle they were not sure they could solve.
Every few steps, whispers followed him.
"That's him."
"He looks calm. Too calm."
"He won against Su Jian, but this is different."
The weapon racks stood at the edge of the platform. Sunlight flashed along polished blades. Rows of swords gleamed, their edges honed until they seemed to cut the light itself. Spears stood in disciplined lines, their points glinting cold and sharp. Axes rested heavy on their stands, and a few finely curved bows leaned in the far corner, their strings drawn taut.
Most duelists reached for a sword without thinking. It was tradition, it was safe, it was respected. Ye Tian passed them by without pause. His eyes slid over the racks as if weighing each one, until his hand stopped on a plain iron staff. Its surface was darkened with age, the steel caps on each end worn but solid.
He lifted it from the rack, feeling its weight settle evenly along his palms.
The reaction from the crowd was immediate.
Gasps broke through the murmurs, followed by laughter from a few corners.
"A staff? Is he joking?"
"He is mocking the duel. First Su Jian, now this."
"This will be quick."
Ye Tian let their words roll past him. The staff was heavier than it looked, and the balance felt honest in his grip. It was not meant to impress anyone with its shine. It was meant to be used.
His opponent stepped onto the platform from the far side. Luo Kai, an inner sect mid-ranked duelist, was known for his precision and speed with the spear. He was taller than Ye Tian, his frame lean but coiled with the kind of strength that came from years of disciplined training. The shaft of his spear gleamed as he twirled it once in greeting, the motion fluid enough to draw a few appreciative murmurs.
"You chose wrong," Luo Kai said, voice carrying just enough to reach Ye Tian over the crowd.
Ye Tian tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting. "We will see."
The dueling platform's boundary marks flared to life, a thin ring of light circling the stage. The air shifted, taking on the faint charge of the protective array. Above the noise, the sharp clang of the starting bell rang out.
Luo Kai moved first. His spear shot forward in a thrust aimed for Ye Tian's shoulder. Ye Tian's staff rose to meet it, the steel-capped end catching the blow with a dull, satisfying ring. The impact shivered through his arms, but he used it, letting the recoil roll through his body as he pivoted and brought the opposite end sweeping low toward Luo Kai's legs.
The spear slid back just in time, Luo Kai stepping away with a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
The exchange quickened. Spear and staff met again and again, each strike sending vibrations through the boards beneath their feet. The staff's reach and weight let Ye Tian press forward in sudden bursts, but Luo Kai's footwork was sharp, every step angled to keep him just beyond the decisive strike.
From the edge of the platform, voices rose.
"He is forcing Luo Kai to move."
"No, he is just getting lucky."
"Look at his hands. That is not luck."
Ye Tian's mind shifted inward, brushing against the quiet hum of the Origin System.
Target locked… Low Grade Weapon Mastery System detected. Extraction possible upon opening.
A spark of satisfaction lit his thoughts. He could take it now, but the timing was not right. A thief who reached too soon risked walking away with nothing. He wanted the perfect opening, the moment when his opponent's guard was open both physically and in the system's flow.
Luo Kai's spear flickered in a sudden flurry, forcing Ye Tian back two steps. The edge of the platform pressed against his heel. Luo Kai's eyes narrowed, seeing an opening, and his next thrust came fast enough to blur.
Ye Tian's staff spun in a tight arc, catching the spear and guiding it past his side. The motion pulled Luo Kai forward, just enough to close the distance. For a heartbeat, Ye Tian was inside the spear's reach.
The system's hum sharpened. Extraction window opening…
Not yet.
He let the moment pass, using it instead to plant a sharp strike to Luo Kai's shoulder. The blow forced the taller man back, his spear lowering slightly as he adjusted his stance.
The crowd was watching differently now. The early laughter had faded, replaced with a steady, focused silence. Even those who doubted him earlier now leaned forward, their eyes following the subtle shifts in Ye Tian's hands and footwork.
Luo Kai circled, looking for another weakness, but Ye Tian mirrored him step for step. The staff's length let him control the space between them, each swing and jab creating a wall the spear could not slip past easily.
"Your reach is shorter," Luo Kai said, voice tight.
"Only if I let it be," Ye Tian replied, stepping in with a sudden upward strike that forced Luo Kai to block high. The clash of metal rang like a bell across the yard.
The system stirred again. Opportunity building… 72 percent alignment.
Ye Tian pressed forward, his movements sharper now, forcing Luo Kai onto the back foot. A quick feint drew the spear aside, and he followed with a sweeping strike at knee level. Luo Kai jumped it cleanly, but the motion slowed his recovery.
The system's voice pulsed in his mind. Extraction window nearing full alignment… 93 percent.
The moment was close. He could feel it in his arms, in the steady rhythm of the fight, in the way the crowd's energy tightened as if they sensed something was about to happen.
When he struck, it would not just be to win.
It would be to take.