Facing each other on the platform stood Mo Lin and Lin Fan — both radiating that unmistakable protagonist aura.
From the disciples benches, Yu Xuan stared with wide eyes.
He wasn't sure what was happening… but he felt it deep in his bones.
"These two…" he whispered. "They both feel like main characters."
He paused, deep in thought.
"…Whose plot is this?! It's not mine, right?!"
He leaned forward nervously.
Down below, on the dueling platform, the two boys prepared for battle.
Mo Lin held what appeared to be a simple sword — though it was anything but ordinary.
'Tch. Another brat with delusions of glory,' a grumpy voice muttered in his head.
Lin Fan stood calmly, wielding a short blade with practiced ease.
His stance was solid, his grip confident — the kind only gained through years of painful training.
From the side of the platform, Disciple Lu raised his hand.
"Are both participants ready?"
Both nodded silently.
"Then… LET THE FIRST MATCH BEGIN!"
