"...Only once. And it was just a test dagger, nothing expensive."
They both laughed, and Han Yu took another look at the glaive in his hands. It wasn’t a top grade spirit weapon, but with its new form and solid design, it felt like a solid foundation. And maybe, one day, he could turn it into sothing more—sothing worthy of a hybrid class.
"Thanks," Han Yu said, sincerely this ti. "This is more than I expected."
Mu Zhi bead. "Just promise one thing."
"What?"
"If anyone asks who did it... tell them it was ."
Han Yu grinned. "Sure. I’ll make sure the whole sect knows Mu Zhi’s na. Especially if this glaive survives punching another salamander’s head off."
Mu Zhi paused. "...Please don’t test it on salamanders."
Having obtained the glaive, Han Yu made his way back to the courtyard to do so personal testing and a bit of rest.
The next morning though, Han Yu made his way to one of the outer sect sparring arenas, feeling the weight of the newly modified glaive on his back. The early morning mist hadn’t yet cleared, and the air was sharp and brisk—perfect for swinging weapons and bruising egos.
A few disciples were already gathered at the training grounds, stretching, ditating, or throwing out half-baked techniques at practice dummies. Most of them gave Han Yu curious glances. He wasn’t exactly famous... but thanks to the recent mission report—plus his past history—he had started gathering whispers.
Among them stood Zhou Heng, a wiry outer sect disciple known for his precision and speed. He was at the mid-Stage Qi Refining realm and always looking for opportunities to show off.
Zhou Heng raised an eyebrow as Han Yu approached. "Well, if it isn’t the loud guy with the loud fists. What’s on your back? A spear too heavy for you to swing?"
Han Yu grinned. "Want to find out?"
That was all it took.
Within minutes, a crowd gathered around the two as they stepped into the sparring circle. The senior supervising disciple, a sleepy-eyed man nad Fan, glanced up from his chair and lazily waved a hand. "No life-threatening moves. No pill-enhancers. If you bleed too much, clean it up yourselves."
Han Yu slid the glaive off his back, letting it glint slightly in the sunlight. The polearm had a clean edge, not overly long, but still elegant. Zhou Heng drew his dual short swords and slid into a low stance.
"Begin!"
Zhou Heng made the first move, darting forward with agile footwork and flashing blades. Han Yu raised the glaive defensively in Ironwood Stance, bracing the weapon across his body. Sparks flew as blades struck the reinforced shaft, the clang echoing across the circle. The reinforced crescent alloy held firm.
Han Yu swept his glaive wide, forcing Zhou Heng back, and then thrust the blade forward—more of a testing jab than a killing blow.
Zhou Heng ducked under it, grinning. "You’re too slow! That thing’s gonna get you killed."
"Am I?" Han Yu muttered.
He twisted his hand.
Click.
The glaive separated into two parts—one short-bladed sword in his right hand, and a staff-like half-shaft in his left. Zhou Heng blinked in confusion, but it was already too late.
Han Yu stepped in fast, swinging the sword in a diagonal arc, using the sudden shift in weapon range to bypass Zhou Heng’s parry. At the sa ti, he spun and smacked the staff half into Zhou Heng’s ribs with a resounding thud.
"—Gah!"
Zhou Heng staggered back, off balance.
Han Yu followed up imdiately, twirling the staff in his left hand like a baton while keeping the blade ready in his right. He advanced in a flurry of unexpected, broken-rhythm attacks. With the glaive split in two, he could feint, bait, and redirect his strikes in ways traditional sword or spear users couldn’t anticipate.
Zhou Heng tried to readjust, but every ti he stepped into range, Han Yu’s staff would sweep his legs or jab his ribs. When he backed off, the sword would harass him from the opposite angle.
"He’s using both parts like they’re extensions of his limbs!" soone whispered from the crowd. "That’s not a glaive anymore—it’s like dual-wielding, but weirdly coordinated."
The final blow ca as Zhou Heng went in for a desperate lunge. Han Yu locked the staff half behind his back, caught the incoming short sword on the flat of his own blade—and twisted.
Click.
In one fluid motion, he reconnected the glaive’s halves into full form and swung it in a wide arc, catching Zhou Heng’s blade and shoulder with enough force to send him spinning to the ground.
WHAM!
Zhou Heng groaned and flopped onto his back, one hand clutching his bruised ribs. "What... in the na of the Heavens... was that?"
Han Yu rested the glaive on his shoulder, smirking. "Told you I wasn’t slow."
The crowd broke into quiet applause, a few disciples exchanging impressed looks. Even Senior Disciple Fan looked mildly interested now, scribbling sothing down—possibly to recomnd Han Yu for a future duel match or perhaps so secretive bets.
After helping Zhou Heng up (and offering him a spirit qi recovery pill out of politeness), Han Yu stepped out of the circle, feeling a new kind of satisfaction. Not only had the glaive perford perfectly, but the modular use of the weapon had allowed him to disrupt, misdirect, and control the fight.
It wasn’t just strength now. It was style.
Later, as he walked back toward his quarters, Han Yu rubbed his chin.
"I should give this thing a na..." he muttered. "it was on clearance and didn’t have a na so its creator shouldn’t be mad about giving it a new one, right?"
"Hmm... How about—Split Fang? No... Crescent Claw? Thunder Stick?"
He paused, deadpan.
"...Definitely not Thunder Stick." Han Yu shook his head.
After an hour of thinking and one and a half sticks of jerky, he decided on a na.
"Dual Fury! Yes! That shall be it! Twice the fury from its two parts and double the impact when combined!" Han Yu nodded to himself, feeling rather proud of his naming sense.
Though if others were to hear his reasoning they would simply roll thier eyes.
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