“Splendid, just what I wanted!” Alice barked a laugh that shook the rafters. She surged forward, dinner-plate hand swinging down like an avalanche to meet the descending sword. Steel and flesh collided with a metallic scream.

Clang! The shock wave blossomed outward, splintering windows, toppling tables, and hurling weaker disciples against the fractured walls of Whispers Tower. Within that maelstrom, the two masters fused into a single blur, neither yielding an inch.

Corin’s sword art unfolded like living calligraphy. One moment, the blade danced light as sunlight on water, darting away before an eye could track it.

The next it struck with thunderous finality, raw power crashing through the air in unstoppable surges. Every stroke dripped with ages of sword force insight, and the gathered disciples of Sword Sect felt blood roar hot through their veins.

Alice answered with brute grandeur. Her style was an open gate, sweeping, battering, magnificent. Backed by the durability of an Earthly Immortal, met the sword head-on, each palm strike packed with enough force to make the very air tremble.

Blade light and palm shadows intertwined, turning day to storm-tossed night. Roars echoed without pause, tables exploded to sawdust, pillars split, and the ancient tower shuddered on its groaning beams.

Spectators scrambled into the courtyard, forced back by the violence, and wonder stamped across every face.