Reincarnated With The Degenerate System

His eyes remained shut. Fan still raised, coat barely shifting despite the overwhelming pressure I was forcing into the air.

Part of me was irritated. Another part was wary—he was too calm.

'Shadow Haze.'

My speed shattered the air in an instant. He reacted, flicking his fan to summon a wall of wind—just like last time.

"That won't work anymore!" I roared.

The tip of my spear pierce through it effortlessly, tearing the wind part as if his defense had never existed. Sparks of displaced air fizzled harmlessly, and the space between us collapsed in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, I was inside his range—my weapon hovering just millimeters from his neck.

"Your head's mine!" I snapped my spear straight forward.

Before my spear could reach him, his fan flared white, thickening the air around me. My strike faltered just enough for him to spring back ten steps, the wind carried him with ease.

A bead of sweat slid down his forehead as he tried to recomposed himself.

How was that possible? I was sure he didn't have time to react to my attack. Hell—not even I could have reacted that fast, and my senses were second to none because of my cultivation.

On top of that, I realized his body wasn't particularly strong. His reaction time should have been far slower than mine—especially since I specialized in dynamic, hyper-speed attacks.

"Could it be… your weapon is sentient?" I muttered, just saying what was on my mind.

Unexpectedly, the crease in his eyebrow answered the question for him.

"Oh, can't believe I hit the mark," I chuckled, keeping my cool despite this surprising revelation.

There were a lot of rumors about celestial weapons, but in the end, they were just that—rumors. So it wasn't surprising if one of them had a feature like that.

"Who are you, and who do you answer to?" he asked, the first hint of seriousness in his tone acknowledging I was a real threat.

"Why tell you anything?" I sneered. "You attacked my people, tried to rob me, and now you're asking for introductions? What—getting cold feet now?"

He raised the fan to his face, covering everything below the bridge of his nose

"Don't get too arrogant just because you caught me off guard," he shot back. "I was only asking because I wanted to know if someone would be upset if I kill you."

"I wouldn't stress about that," I said, rolling my shoulders as the spear hummed in my grip. "Because you're the one dying today."

"Let's see about that." His eyes snapped open—revealing an irisless void, a pure black pit that didn't shine or reflect, just swallowed whatever light dared to touch it.

thud!

My knee hit the ground before I even realized I was falling.

Confused, I blinked hard, trying composed myself. He was still standing exactly where he'd been, but his outline wavered, like someone had smeared his entire shape across the air.

Every time I moved even slightly, it felt like I was on a ship tossed in the middle of a storm—my stomach twisted, my head spun, and I felt like vomiting my prior meal.

"Fuck!"

My fingers dug into the cracked stone, desperate for something solid, but even the ground felt like it was tilting under me, sliding sideways when I knew damn well it wasn't.

Before I could even get my bearings, I felt concentrated wind gathering in front of me—sharp, focused, like an arrow aimed at my face. I thrust my own spear forward to intercept it.

But the hit came from my side.

The hit slammed me sideways, folding me like a ragdoll and hurling me across the room. I smashed into the wall, the impact rattling my bones and ripping the air from my lungs.

I staggered to my feet, dazed. The wind had come from the front—or at least, that's what I thought. So how the hell did I get blindsided?

Even if he shifted the attack's direction in the last second, I should have reacted in time.

On top of that, my body should have withstood it—shadow armor and all. Yet somehow, I'd been hurled like a ragdoll.

The wind howled again. This time I centered myself, absolutely certain—it was coming straight at me.

BOOOM!

The wind hit me from behind, hurling me across the room once more. Without my shadow armor and my body's durability, two strikes like that would've ended me for good.

"Regretting it now?" Even though he was in front of me, his voice reverberated from every direction.

"Moon Cycle—Extending Strike!" I hurled my spear toward where I thought he stood.

The spear tore through the air, missing by inches, passing cleanly through empty space.

"Shit… how is this even possible?" I muttered.

His voice echoed again, bouncing around me.

"Don't be surprised. This is my real ability. What you've experienced so far was just the power of my celestial weapon."

I'd half-expected as much, but hearing it from his mouth made my blood boil.

"Do you even know why you're getting crushed right now?" His tone oozed condescension, each word meant to mocked me.

I didn't want to talk to him—not even a little—but if running my mouth bought me a second to figure this mess out, so be it. Let him brag. I'd make him regret every word later.

"Do tell," I said, bitterness dripping from every word.

"Oh, so you don't know?" He let out a slow, exaggerated sigh. "It's really quite obvious. You've got explosive power—but that's meaningless. A weapon like mine can compensate for that. What you're missing is uniqueness. Your power, your style… it's too straightforward and predictable "

"Predictable?" I repeated, barely keeping my anger in check.

"That's right...I've faced plenty like you before. Sure, you're leagues above most—but when against power like mine, you are left vulnerable. You can't think, can't react… because you're only used to facing direct attacks like your own."

I hated to admit it, yet he was right. I had grown stronger at an astonishing pace, but I still lacked the experience to handle different types of opponents. And that weakness was very clear right now.

However, that didn't mean I was completely hopeless. All that time spent talking had given me a chance to adjust to the disorienting sensation.

I was still a cultivator, with sense of balance far stronger than normal—something he probably hadn't taken into consideration.

He would regret underestimating me soon enough. For now, I let myself sway, acting like the disorientation had me half‑broken.

Let him think I was struggling. I just needed the perfect moment to take his head off.