Adrian, gritting his teeth, forced himself to focus. If they were stronger now, then brute force wouldn’t work. He needed to outthink them.
He feinted left, then twisted mid-step, slashing at the nearest puppet’s leg. His blade passed through the mist, but this ti, the puppet didn’t disperse completely. It began reforming slowly, leaving Adrian dumbfounded.
This realisation was like a punch to the gut. This ant that if he didn’t dispatch of them quickly enough, any injuries he dealt would eventually heal.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
The puppets advanced, their movents predatory. Adrian’s mind raced. If they were reflections of his own skills, then perhaps the key wasn’t to fight them, but to change the way he fought.
He needed to be unpredictable. It was the sa strategy he used in the previous battle, but this ti he took it up just for a fraction of a second, and it was enough.
He struck.
His sword moved erratically, slashing in wide, sweeping arcs rather than precise cuts. The puppets faltered, their synchronization breaking slightly as they struggled to adapt to his sudden shift in style.
Adrian didn’t let up. He pressed the advantage, driving one puppet back with a series of wild, uncontrolled strikes. His blade finally found its mark, plunging into the puppet’s chest.
The mist shuddered and for a mont, it held its form, then shattered, dispersing into the air. One down.
But the remaining two didn’t falter. They adjusted instantly, their movents becoming more fluid, more precise.
The puppets attacked in unison, their swords flashing like silver ghosts. Adrian blocked one, but the second slipped past his guard, its blade slicing across his ribs.
Agony. Pure agony.
He scread, sothing he hadn’t done in a long ti. He didn’t know if he was hallucinating, but his sea of consciousness seed to quake a little bit. The pain was so intense that his knees buckled. He caught himself at the last second, rolling away just as another strike ca down where his head had been.
I can’t keep this up.
His vision blurred. His body trembled. The injuries that his soul was experiencing were becoming too much, causing a creeping numbness to seep into his limbs.
But he couldn’t stop. The puppets circled him, their faceless visages sohow mocking. As if telling him how weak he was.
Adrian forced himself to stand. There had to be a way. He couldn’t give up just yet.
...
Adrian collapsed onto the ground after the grueling battle. He had sohow managed to kill the two remaining mist puppets. Though now he was tired. Both physically and ntally.
He simply lay there and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. He figured that he would be safe if he stayed where he currently was. There shouldn’t be any more danger where he was.
It was a gamble, but one that he was willing to take. He usually wouldn’t be as reckless as this, but he was too tired to think about anything. He fell asleep, leaving himself vulnerable to whatever was out there.
He woke up groggily after a while. rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had slept for. Luckily, nothing seed to attack him while he was sleeping.
It seems like his gamble was the right one. His stomach rumbled, bringing him out of his thoughts. He quickly retrieved so dried fruits and jerky from the Blood Star. That’s right, the Blood Star!
’Damn, I completely forgot about it. I should have just entered it if I was going to rest. Luckily, there was no danger here, or else I would have been in big trouble.’
He thought to himself, taking note of the blunder he had committed. He ate in silence for a few minutes, replenishing his energy levels.
He could feel the faint throbbing of his mind, as if he had a perpetual headache that would never go away. His soul was still injured, but it seed to be a little bit better after the night’s rest.
Of course, that was all in his head. There was no way an injury to the soul could be healed after a single night of rest. Soul injuries required expensive resources to treat, or rest for a long period of ti, A very long period of ti.
He tossed those thoughts to the back of his mind before deciding to continue on his journey. Adrian’s boots echoed against the cold stone as he advanced, his body still humming with the aftermath of the last battle. The mist had receded, but the air remained thick with tension, a silent promise of greater trials ahead.
When he had traversed about three-quarters of the length of the corridor, the sa thing happened again. He had barely taken another step when the mist surged once more.
This ti he wasn’t surprised, rely vigilant. However, the mist seed to have a surprise in store for him. This ti, it didn’t just form puppets.
It ford him.
Four figures materialized, each an exact replica of Adrian. Sa sharp features, sa dark eyes, sa black robes fluttering as if caught in an unseen wind. Even the way they held their swords was identical, the slight tilt of the wrist, the tension in their shoulders.
But these ones were different from the mist puppets from before. They had faces. His face.
Adrian’s grip on his sword tightened. The sight of his own expression, cold, calculating, staring back at him, sent a primal unease crawling down his spine.
Then, without a word, they attacked. However, Adrian wasn’t caught off guard. He had already vaguely expected this situation. Therefore, he didn’t hesitate.
The first copy lunged without hesitation, its blade flashing in a perfect slash. Adrian barely parried, but the force of the strike sent him skidding back, his arm trembling.
The force behind the attack surprised him. It was as if they had beco more powerful. However, their cultivation levels remained the sa as his own. Unless the mist sohow provided them with more power.
’No, it wasn’t that they were more powerful. It was the technique.’ He thought to himself as he quickly figured out the secret to their supposed power-up. While the mist didn’t increase their cultivation levels, it raised the difficulty by making the puppets attack with nearly perfect techniques.
The sword strike of the mist puppet was almost perfect. Adrian couldn’t see any flaws in it. If the sa were true for the others, then he was in for a tough battle.
The second and third copies attacked in unison, their movents synchronized to an inhuman degree. Adrian twisted away, but the fourth was already there, its sword aid at his ribs.
He barely dodged, but the tip still grazed him.
Pain.
"Damn it!" He muttered through gritted teeth.
The puppets had gotten faster. Stronger. More precise. It seed that he didn’t have the luxury of taking things slow. He changed his tactics. He decided to execute his plan.
Adrian knew he couldn’t win a battle of attrition. Every exchange, every clash, would only tire him out. He needed to break their rhythm, to do sothing they couldn’t predict.
He feinted left, then abruptly reversed his grip on his sword, slashing upward in a move he never used. It was a sloppy, reckless cut that left him wide open.
The copies hesitated. For the briefest mont, their flawless synchronization flickered. Adrian didn’t waste the opening.
"Scorching Sun Palm!"
Fire erupted from his free hand, engulfing the nearest copy. This was a Bronze rank martial skill. It conjured up a flaming palm made of Qi and sent it flying towards one’s opponents.
Normally, if Adrian were facing a normal cultivator, he would never use this move. This martial skill, to an opponent of his level, wasn’t that dangerous and could be blocked or countered easily.
However, he wasn’t facing normal cultivators. The mist puppets had little to no defence and were beings made purely for their attack power.
Even a Bronze rank martial skill would be able to cause significant damage or even kill one entirely, if tid right. And that was exactly what happened.
One of the mist puppets, puppet number one, was too close and couldn’t dodge in ti like the others. The scorching sun palm struck it squarely in the chest.
The flas faced no resistance and ultimately devoured the mist puppet in its entirety. The remaining three puppets could only watch as their comrade disappeared permanently into the mist.
However, their faces showed no change in expression. No traces of anger or sadness could be seen on their faces. However, the opposite was true for Adrian.
A faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched his plan get executed perfectly. For the two previous battles, he hadn’t used any martial skills.
Part of the reason was to use the mist puppets to train, but he was also worried about whether they would be able to replicate his martial skills as well.
After the second battle, he arrived at the conclusion that they would be unable to do so. They were rely puppets made by this strange mist. Even if they were made to be copies of him, they couldn’t mimic everything about him.
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