A cold wind swept across the clearing. Though the time was noon, here in this snowy place it felt as if evening had already fallen.
Julius, Yu Zhen, Anna Weber, Heinrich Vogel, and the others stood just beyond a wooden fence, all of them visibly excited to witness the battle between Zhou Rui and Friedrich Bauer.
Julius had both hands resting on the brown fence as he leaned forward, watching intently. Anna gripped her slender staff, her expression focused. Yu Zhen stood calmly with both hands hidden in the wide sleeves of his robe, while Heinrich stood nearby with his arms folded across his chest.
Zhou Rui faced Friedrich empty-handed, while Friedrich held his gleaming silver sword at the ready.
Friedrich frowned, his voice edged with irritation.
"Where is your sword?"
Zhou Rui replied coolly.
"It's right here. Maybe you just can't see it."
Friedrich's brows knitted together in anger.
"What nonsense is this!? This isn't a joke, Zhou Rui. Take this duel seriously—or it's going to end badly for you."
With that, Friedrich charged straight at him. He closed the distance in an instant, leaping high into the air before swinging his sword down in a vicious vertical arc aimed to split Zhou Rui's skull.
Zhou Rui calmly extended his right hand forward. His fingers curled into a tight grip, as if holding the hilt of something long and unseen.
CLASH!
Metal shrieked against something invisible. The strike connected, but not with flesh. It struck an unseen force—an invisible weapon that Zhou Rui was gripping firmly. Its length, width, sharpness, and nature were all a complete mystery.
Friedrich's eyes widened in shock.
"What kind of magic is this?"
Heinrich stood frozen, his expression bewildered. Anna clutched her staff tighter, eyes fixed on the clash. Even Yu Zhen looked intrigued, studying Zhou Rui with a thoughtful gaze.
But Julius—he was smiling, as if he'd expected this all along.
Zhou Rui suddenly shoved Friedrich back with a surge of strength from the unseen blade. Without giving him time to recover, he dashed forward. He leaned low and swept his invisible weapon upward in a sharp arc.
Friedrich's instincts reacted just in time—he twisted his sword down and blocked the rising strike. Sparks burst from the impact point, though no one could see what exactly clashed against Friedrich's blade.
The force of the collision sent them both skidding backward across the snowy ground, sliding several meters apart before coming to a halt, eyes locked on each other.
They skidded backward across the snowy ground, boots carving two long tracks in the frost. The cold wind whipped between them as they came to a stop, breathing hard, eyes locked on each other.
For a heartbeat, neither moved.
Then Friedrich let out a low growl, gripping his silver sword in both hands.
"You… you think this trick will save you?"
He lunged again, closing the distance in two powerful strides. He swung down in a diagonal arc, forcing Zhou Rui to twist aside.
The invisible blade clashed against the sword again—
CLANG!
Friedrich pressed forward, slashing rapidly, each strike faster and more desperate. Sparks flickered with every impact. Zhou Rui caught every blow on that unseen weapon, his expression as calm as ever.
Julius leaned over the fence, smiling broadly.
"Look at him—he hasn't even broken a sweat."
Friedrich pivoted and kicked out hard, trying to throw Zhou Rui off balance. Zhou Rui slid back a single step, then pivoted to the side, invisible weapon raised in a low guard.
Friedrich snarled and spun, using the momentum to swing horizontally at Zhou Rui's ribs. This time, Zhou Rui didn't just block—he struck back.
There was a flash of impact as Zhou Rui parried the blade aside and thrust forward. The invisible point of his weapon rammed into Friedrich's chestplate—not with enough force to pierce, but enough to stagger him. Friedrich grunted, skidding backward again. His breath steamed in the cold.
Yu Zhen's eyes glimmered with curiosity.
"Remarkable," he murmured under his breath.
Anna looked between them, her staff trembling slightly in her grip.
Friedrich steadied himself and raised his sword in front of his face, blade vertical.
"Fine," he growled.
"If you won't take me seriously, then I'll end this in one strike."
He shifted his stance, legs braced wide. The air around him seemed to ripple as a faint aura of silver energy crawled up the blade—his hidden magic awakening.
Julius muttered, "Uh-oh… here comes the show."
Friedrich drew a deep breath and charged, faster than before. His sword ignited in a flare of silver light as he brought it down in a devastating overhead slash.
But Zhou Rui didn't retreat. Instead, he stepped directly into the arc of the attack.
For a heartbeat, everyone watching thought he'd made a fatal mistake.
Then—
CRACK!
The invisible weapon met the glowing sword. The air shook from the impact. A shockwave blasted snow outward in a ring around them.
Friedrich strained, pouring all his strength into pressing the blade down—but the sword refused to move. Zhou Rui held it in place with one hand.
Friedrich's eyes widened in disbelief.
"…Impossible."
Zhou Rui's voice was soft, but it carried across the silent yard.
"I told you—it was here all along."
With a smooth twist of his wrist, he slid the invisible weapon free, spun it once, and tapped the flat against Friedrich's gauntlet. The force was like being struck with a battering ram—Friedrich staggered back several steps, gasping for breath, sword lowered.
He tried to lift it again, but his arms were trembling too hard to obey.
Zhou Rui took a calm step forward, invisible weapon resting against his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
"Yield," he said simply.
For a moment, Friedrich's pride fought to speak. But then he exhaled, chest heaving, and lowered his blade to the snow.
"…I yield."
Around them, the gathered villagers erupted into murmurs and applause. Anna let out a relieved sigh, and Heinrich gave a low whistle.
Julius smirked, crossing his arms.
"Told you so."
Yu Zhen stepped forward, hands still folded calmly in his sleeves, and nodded in approval.
"Well done. Both of you."
And just like that, the clearing fell silent again—only the cold wind moving through the snow, carrying the quiet proof of who stood stronger.