He asked himself, his sword, and the cold sun between heaven and earth every day, how could he not understand that all his attacks, his ways of exerting force, had in fact been anticipated by his daughter? Every bit of his strength only pushed him further into the trap.
The more forcefully he used his strength, the quicker he was defeated.
It was as if...
It was as if his opponent were a worm inside his own gut, knowing and understanding everything.
"So, if I now find my strike ineffective and wish to retreat and launch another attack, would she have anticipated that too?"
This thought had just surfaced in his mind.
When suddenly, a vast torrent of sword waves appeared before his eyes.
The sword waves overlapped endlessly, omni-present.
They were like the moonlight in the sky, sinking into people's hearts, yet also like the boundless ocean suddenly roaring...
The weight of the sword's motion was almost unbelievable; it was hard to believe it could be wielded by a woman.
