Chapter 90: The Hardest Fight

The saber came down hard enough to numb Lin Yuan’s hand. He twisted his wrist before the impact fully settled, letting the blade slide away from his artifact, but pain still shot from his swollen fingers to his elbow.

The masked man gave him no chance to recover. A second strike passed dangerously close to his chest, and another forced him farther west, away from the restricted site.

That part, at least, was useful.

Lin Yuan had spent the last several minutes trying to draw his opponent away from the excavation. If the saber wielder wanted to push him toward the open wasteland, there was no reason to object. He only needed to keep the man occupied long enough for the distance to matter.

Behind them, Qiao Ren remained near the exposed stone. The other raiders were withdrawing, and the caravan traders had wisely stayed beside their wagons rather than pursuing them into the darkness.

For the first time since the raid began, Lin Yuan didn’t have to worry about several fights happening at once. Unfortunately, that meant he could give his full attention to the man trying to kill him.

Another strike forced him to raise his artifact. His injured wrist almost gave out under the impact, and the masked cultivator immediately noticed his weakened grip.

"Your wrist is almost finished," the man said.

Lin Yuan backed away, supporting his weapon with his left hand. "Then you’d better stop wasting time talking about it."

The saber wielder advanced again, but Lin Yuan moved first. He struck toward the man’s injured right forearm, hoping to force another awkward defense. His opponent twisted aside and countered, just as Lin Yuan had expected. Ducking beneath the passing blade, Lin Yuan drove his shoulder into the man’s chest.

The impact pushed his opponent back two steps. Lin Yuan followed with another strike, only to have it blocked, and the resulting clash forced them apart.

He was already breathing heavily. Although the saber wielder had suffered several injuries of his own, he remained in better condition.

The man glanced at his wounded right arm.

"You’ve been aiming for the same place all night."

"It seemed to be working."

"Not well enough."

Instead of attacking again, the saber wielder transferred his weapon to his left hand.

Lin Yuan’s expression tightened. The movement was considerably smoother than he would have liked.

His opponent’s first left-handed strike was slightly slower, but the second came from an unfamiliar angle, forcing Lin Yuan to twist aside. A third cut caught his sleeve and tore the fabric from elbow to shoulder.

He retreated another step.

Apparently, injuring the man’s right arm hadn’t solved nearly as much as he’d hoped.

The masked cultivator followed, his saber held firmly in his left hand.

"Still think you can wear me down?"

Lin Yuan glanced at the man’s footwork. "I’m beginning to reconsider."

The answer earned him another attack. He stepped aside, and their fight continued west.

Qiao Ren watched from beside the restricted site, his short blade still in hand.

Twice, he had nearly gone after Lin Yuan. Both times, he stopped himself before taking more than a few steps.

His friend had told him to protect the excavation, and there were good reasons to obey. The other raiders had withdrawn, but Qiao Ren could still hear movement somewhere beyond the market. Whether it belonged to retreating attackers or people waiting for another chance, he couldn’t tell.

Leaving the restricted site unguarded now would make everything they had fought for pointless.

He glanced down at the stone fragment the raiders had abandoned. Most of its surface looked like ordinary gray stone, but one side was unnaturally smooth. It had clearly broken from the exposed edge of the buried structure.

Whatever lay beneath Blackstone was important enough for armed cultivators to attack the settlement twice in one night.

Qiao Ren crouched for a better look but resisted the temptation to touch it. The Association could deal with the thing later. That was what officials were for.

Assuming everyone survived long enough to complain about their handling of it.

Another metallic clash sounded from the west. Looking up, Qiao Ren saw two figures moving near the dark boundary, one steadily forcing the other backward.

He tightened his grip on his blade.

"Idiot," he muttered.

After a moment, he realized he wasn’t entirely sure which man he meant.

Lin Yuan had stopped trying to win quickly.

His opponent was better at direct combat, and pretending otherwise wouldn’t change the difference between them. Every prolonged clash punished his injured wrist, while every clean exchange favored the more experienced fighter.

So he stopped giving the man clean exchanges.

Instead of standing his ground, he interrupted attacks whenever possible, moved away when the saber wielder settled into a rhythm, and refused to let their weapons remain locked together.

It wasn’t elegant, but elegance hadn’t kept him alive tonight.

The masked man was becoming visibly irritated.

"Are you planning to run around until morning?"

"If necessary."

"You can’t avoid me forever."

"I don’t need forever."

The man’s response was to rush forward.

Lin Yuan stepped sideways, intending to circle a shallow depression in the ground, but his foot caught a loose stone. The dirt shifted beneath him, and he stumbled.

His opponent recognized the opening immediately.

The saber came down.

Rather than risk another block, Lin Yuan threw himself backward. The blade struck the ground where he had stood, sending dust into the air.

He rolled and pushed himself upright with his left hand, only to find the masked cultivator already closing in. A boot slammed into his injured ribs, knocking him down again.

For several seconds, breathing became difficult. Lin Yuan barely managed to roll aside before the saber struck the dirt beside his shoulder. Another cut followed, forcing him to scramble backward until he could get his feet beneath him.

Their weapons collided as soon as the masked man reached him again.

This time, his wrist couldn’t endure the impact. Pain shot through his right arm, and his fingers opened, dropping the artifact into the dirt.

The saber came toward him immediately. Lin Yuan threw himself sideways, narrowly avoiding the blade as it tore another strip from his robe. He landed beside his fallen weapon.

The masked cultivator stepped forward to finish the exchange.

Lin Yuan grabbed a handful of loose dirt and threw it into the man’s face.

His opponent jerked away, raising an arm to protect his eyes. Lin Yuan lunged for his artifact, but the saber wielder swung blindly before he could move clear.

The blade caught his shoulder.

A sharp pain burned across his skin, and blood immediately spread beneath the torn fabric. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was another injury he couldn’t afford.

Lin Yuan snatched up his weapon and rolled away. By the time the masked man cleared the dirt from his eyes, he was back on his feet, though barely.

The amusement had disappeared from his opponent’s expression.

Lin Yuan wasn’t smiling either.

His right wrist throbbed, his shoulder burned, and every deep breath sent pain through his ribs. He could no longer trust his injured hand to hold the artifact properly, so he transferred it to his left.

The unfamiliar grip felt awkward. He had practiced using that hand before, but there was an enormous difference between practice and fighting someone who was trying to remove his head.

The saber wielder noticed the change.

"You’re having trouble standing. Why not surrender while you still can?"

Lin Yuan adjusted his grip. "And what happens after I surrender? You promise not to rob my tavern again?"

The man said nothing.

"That’s what I thought."

Lin Yuan glanced past him toward Blackstone. They had moved far enough west that the tavern lights appeared smaller, and the market lay some distance behind his opponent.

Qiao Ren was still guarding the restricted site.

That was good, but Lin Yuan knew their positioning wasn’t entirely safe. If the masked man abandoned the duel and rushed back toward Blackstone, Lin Yuan might not be able to catch him with his injuries.

For now, however, the man’s attention remained fixed on him.

Lin Yuan intended to keep it that way.

"Are we going to continue?" he asked.

The saber wielder raised his weapon.

"You’ll regret asking."

He attacked before Lin Yuan could answer.

The first strike knocked Lin Yuan’s artifact aside. The second forced him backward, and the third opened a shallow cut along his outer thigh. His attempt to counter with his left hand missed badly, allowing the masked cultivator to strike him across the jaw with the back of his fist.

The impact left his ears ringing. He barely noticed the next saber strike until instinct made him duck beneath it.

With the blade passing overhead, Lin Yuan drove forward and jammed his shoulder against the masked man’s weapon arm. He kept his artifact tucked close in his left hand, using his body weight to trap the man’s arm against his chest.

The hold lasted only a moment.

A knee slammed into Lin Yuan’s stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. Another knee followed before he could recover, and he released his opponent rather than risk a third.

Both men separated, breathing hard.

Lin Yuan bent slightly as he fought to recover his breath. Across from him, the saber wielder was breathing harder too.

That was new.

Sweat had gathered along the masked man’s temple, and blood was beginning to soak through the sleeve covering his injured right forearm. His left-handed strikes remained dangerous, but they no longer came as smoothly as before.

Lin Yuan had been so focused on surviving that he had almost overlooked something important.

His opponent was exhausted too.

The man had fought for much of the night, suffered several injuries, and continued battling after the rest of his group retreated. His cultivation and experience still gave him an advantage, but neither could make his body ignore everything it had endured.

Lin Yuan straightened. He wasn’t suddenly stronger, and one mistake could still cost him his life. But perhaps the difference between them wasn’t as impossible to overcome as he’d believed.

The saber wielder advanced again.

This time, Lin Yuan watched the man’s shoulders rather than following every movement of the blade.

When the saber rose, he shifted left. His opponent changed the direction of the attack, just as Lin Yuan had expected, but instead of blocking, he struck toward the man’s left wrist.

The blow was weaker than it would have been with his right hand, yet it disrupted the cut enough for him to step inside the saber’s reach.

His opponent tried to create space, but Lin Yuan followed closely.

He had learned something useful while fighting the spearman earlier. A weapon’s reach meant little if its wielder couldn’t use it properly.

The saber was shorter and easier to maneuver than a spear, but its strongest cuts still required room. Lin Yuan intended to deny him that advantage.

An elbow came toward his face. He caught part of the impact on his forearm and pushed forward anyway, striking the man’s chest with his shoulder.

The masked cultivator staggered backward, but Lin Yuan stayed close. Another elbow followed, then a knee. Lin Yuan avoided the worst of both attacks and managed to land a short blow with his artifact near the man’s ribs.

Neither fighter had enough space for proper techniques anymore.

The saber wielder finally shoved him away, creating the distance needed for another powerful cut.

Lin Yuan had been waiting for that.

He shifted aside as the blade passed, then struck the man’s injured right forearm when it came forward to help him recover his balance.

The masked cultivator cursed and stumbled. Lin Yuan immediately kicked toward his knee, forcing him to move awkwardly to avoid the full impact, then followed with another strike before the man could recover his footing.

His opponent blocked, but the force drove him backward. A second attack made him retreat again.

Lin Yuan was still painfully aware of his injuries, but something had changed. His opponent was no longer controlling every exchange, and he seemed increasingly angry about it.