The Saint descended, moving like a ripple of light and shadow. Each step she took seemed to shift the very landscape around her, adjusting the chaotic energy to her advantage.
Wu's body tensed. He knew that a direct fight would be suicide. Even his understanding of Chaos and Fallen Boundary was not enough to match the precision of a Saint.
Instead, he used the environment. Every fissure, every warped boulder, every pocket of chaotic energy became a tool, a weapon, a trap.
The first clash was swift—a blur of movement, a strike that would have crushed most cultivators. Wu rolled, allowing a spike of distorted energy to hit the rock behind him, sending debris flying toward her. She dodged, and for a moment, Wu caught the flash of surprise in her eyes.
They danced around each other, Wu using the irregularity of the Fallen Boundary to create opportunities. Every step he took was calculated, a chess move anticipating her next strike.
The Saint seemed impressed, her attacks becoming faster, more precise. Wu's mind raced: She's calculating me… but she doesn't know my full hand yet.
By nightfall, the two stood across from each other, silent, the wind carrying the residual chaos energy between them.
"Interesting," she said finally. "You are… unlike anyone I've met."
Wu's smile remained gray, unreadable. "And you are… persistent."