Chapter 96: The Veiled Woman


    Han Ming propped his chin with both hands, like a child eagerly awaiting a story from an elder, and asked expectantly, "So how did you manage to defeat that master back then?"


    Li Xiaotian smiled mysteriously and said, "The most dangerous thing in a fight is actually the most conventional approach. Imagine if we could create an exact copy of you, Han Ming, and have you fight against it. Do you think the battle would go on endlessly?"


    Han Ming immediately shook his head and denied, "Of course not. In a fight, the stakes are incredibly high. Even the smallest factor can lead to defeat. For example, accidentally stepping on a pebble or a momentary lapse in concentration could give your opponent the upper hand."


    Li Xiaotian chuckled, "Not a bad explanation, though not entirely complete. But you’ve got the gist of it. In a duel, you must win through unpredictability. Using an attack method that your opponent could never anticipate can momentarily disrupt their thinking. This significantly reduces the danger when two equally skilled opponents face off. One crucial point to emphasize is that everyone has their own instinctive reactions. These are innate."


    As Li Xiaotian spoke, he suddenly threw a punch, stopping it just a hair''s breadth from Han Ming''s face.


    Han Ming instinctively closed his eyes and then reopened them.


    Li Xiaotian continued, "That’s an instinctive reaction. Everyone is born with various instinctive responses. In a fight between masters, these instincts can be the most fatal flaw. When your opponent attacks a certain part of your body, the first thing that reacts isn’t your brain—it’s your instincts. If your opponent knows how to exploit your instincts, they can predict what you’ll do next based on those reactions. In other words, they’ll know your next move before you make it, and that’s how you lose. So, for the next period of time, what you need to learn is to forget your instincts."


    "But you still haven’t told me how you won back then," Han Ming said, feeling that Li Xiaotian had once again sidestepped his question. He was slightly annoyed.


    Li Xiaotian laughed affectionately and said, "I spat at him. That’s how I won."


    "What!? You spat at him?" Han Ming jumped up from the ground in shock, staring at Li Xiaotian in disbelief. "No way! It was that simple? A master like you used such a dirty trick? How is that any different from throwing sand or lime in someone’s eyes?"


    Li Xiaotian’s smile faded, and his expression turned serious. "On the battlefield, there’s no such thing as dirty or clean tactics. If you’re stronger than your opponent, is that dirty? If you’ve learned more than your opponent, is that dirty? If you’re physically stronger than your opponent, is that dirty? Han Ming, you need to understand that fighting to the death is no game. Every tactic is aimed at achieving victory. The magic you’re learning, the martial arts you’re practicing—it’s all the same."


    Han Ming suddenly realized that Li Xiaotian’s words made a lot of sense. His previous belief that certain tactics were "dirty" now seemed incredibly naive. After all, if you’re stronger than your opponent, does that mean you shouldn’t fight them? Does that make you dishonorable? In a fight, there’s only victory or defeat. Everything else is irrelevant. If you lose, you die. And dead men don’t get to argue their case.


    Han Ming and the four-stage snake clan expert continued to cautiously test each other. The scene before him was eerily similar to what Li Xiaotian had once taught him.


    That old man truly was a legend.


    Han Ming marveled at the thought. Old Man Li might not have been the most powerful person in the world, and his rank might not have been the highest—perhaps he was only at the fourth, fifth, or even third stage. Han Ming had no way of knowing for sure. But he was certain that Li Xiaotian’s profound understanding of martial arts, which seemed almost divine, could allow him to defeat opponents far above his own level.


    This wasn’t some far-fetched fantasy. It was the truth.


    A deep understanding of martial arts could elevate someone above the masses.


    Han Ming recalled a martial arts novel he had read in the past. He remembered that in Jin Yong’s *The Smiling, Proud Wanderer*, there was a sect called the Huashan Sect.


    The Huashan Sect had countless disciples, but Linghu Chong stood out among them.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Back then, Linghu Chong and his fellow disciples had all learned the same martial arts. Some had studied for a shorter time, while others had trained longer. One of his senior brothers, already advanced in age, was still no match for Linghu Chong.


    Why was it that, despite learning the same techniques, their abilities varied so greatly?


    Han Ming finally understood.


    *Spit!*


    Han Ming smirked and suddenly spat at the snake clansman.


    To his disappointment, the snake clansman didn’t even flinch, allowing Han Ming’s saliva to land on his face.


    Huh? Why didn’t he dodge?


    After a moment of thought, Han Ming realized, *Oh, right. He’s a snake clansman. They’re used to living with bugs and filth. Cleanliness is probably a human concept. It doesn’t apply to him.*


    That trick didn’t work. Time for another!


    Han Ming’s eyes darted to the snake clansman’s legs. The snake clansman’s eyes flashed coldly, and he raised his hand to block his face, just in time to catch Han Ming’s incoming fist.


    Seeing that his attack had failed, Han Ming quickly retreated, pulling his fist back. He cursed himself for being too obvious—any fool could tell his feint was deliberate.


    The snake clansman, seeing Han Ming retreat, seized the opportunity. He lunged forward, aiming a kick at Han Ming’s retreating right leg.


    Han Ming, realizing the danger, planted his right foot firmly on the ground, bending his waist and using his right fist to strike at the snake clansman’s incoming foot. At the same time, anticipating an attack to his back, he bent his left arm and thrust his elbow upward.


    The snake clansman, however, had already predicted Han Ming’s move. He abandoned his attack on Han Ming’s back and instead drove his right knee upward, aiming for Han Ming’s face. Caught off guard, Han Ming had no choice but to block with his right hand. Seizing the opening, the snake clansman reached for Han Ming’s exposed neck, his claws poised to tear through flesh.


    Han Ming, realizing the danger, used the force of the snake clansman’s knee to push himself backward, leaning his upper body away.


    The snake clansman, however, extended his left leg, using its length to aim a kick at the back of Han Ming’s head as he leaned back.


    Han Ming continued to dodge, while the snake clansman pressed forward relentlessly.


    The two combatants moved like blurs, their fight so intense that even the surrounding snake clansmen watched with bated breath. Such a direct and thrilling display of martial prowess was a rare sight.


    Many of the snake clansmen, who had once been confident in their own martial skills, now felt humbled. Compared to the two combatants before them, their own abilities seemed childish and amateurish.


    Even the veiled woman watched with keen interest. "I never expected a human to possess such martial skill. Despite their frail bodies, this human has managed to hold his own against one of our snake clansmen for so long without faltering. Although he seems to be on the defensive now, he hasn’t shown any fatal weaknesses. Such a human cannot be allowed to live."


    *This isn’t good. If this keeps up, I’m done for,* Han Ming thought anxiously. He was now on the defensive, and the situation was growing increasingly dire.


    Moreover, the snake clansman’s attacks were infused with combat aura. If not for Han Ming’s exceptionally strong physique, a few more blows would have shattered his bones.


    *Wait! He has combat aura, but I have magic! I’m a mage!*


    Han Ming suddenly remembered. He had been so focused on winning through martial arts that he had completely forgotten he was a water mage.


    Having grown accustomed to the snake clansman’s aura-infused attacks, Han Ming realized that his unused magic could be a trump card. He also remembered that the snake clansman likely had a beast soul. He couldn’t afford to wait until the snake clansman unleashed it before taking action.


    When the snake clansman swung his hand at Han Ming’s neck again, Han Ming chose not to block this time. Instead, he took the hit and simultaneously struck at the snake clansman’s neck. At the same time, he quickly formed a thick layer of ice around his own neck.


    The snake clansman, caught off guard by Han Ming’s suicidal tactic, tried to pull back but was too late. The two were evenly matched in martial skill, and the snake clansman, driven by his desire to prove himself, had been relying solely on his physical prowess rather than his four-stage beast soul abilities.


    This overconfidence would cost him his life.


    As both Han Ming and the snake clansman struck each other’s necks, Han Ming’s blow landed with devastating force.


    The two were sent flying in opposite directions.


    Han Ming’s strength was monstrous. The snake clansman, who had focused all his energy on offense, had little defensive aura left to protect himself. Han Ming’s strike severed the snake clansman’s head from his body, sending both crashing into the far wall with a thunderous impact that shook the entire underground hall.


    Han Ming, too, was sent flying, crashing through two stone pillars before coming to a stop.


    The snake clansmen in the hall stared in stunned silence, struggling to process what had just happened.


    To them, the human had gone mad, willing to trade his life for the snake clansman’s.


    But to their astonishment, Han Ming staggered to his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. He cast a healing spell on his injured neck.


    The small ice shield he had conjured had absorbed most of the snake clansman’s attack, and his robust body had withstood the rest. Even so, the blow had nearly taken his head off.


    "Well done… You’ve certainly proven yourself," the veiled woman said, rising from her seat for the first time. She stepped down from the platform, her voice icy as she looked down at Han Ming.


    Han Ming grinned. "Are you planning to end the match now? Going to take care of me yourself?"


    The veiled woman nodded slightly. "You’re quite perceptive."


    Han Ming glanced around and saw that he had killed over fifty snake clansmen. Only about ten remained in the hall. He breathed a sigh of relief—this small number was no longer a threat.


    The real challenge was the veiled woman.