It looked like Wi Mu-gyeol had come to his senses ever since his sword broke, but his younger brother Wi Jung-cheon kept throwing us foul looks now and then.
Having lived and moved through Jianghu myself...
That kind of look? Usually ends with one hit. This guy? Needs seventeen more. That’s a total of eighteen.
When our eyes met, I gave him a little smirk.
‘This bastard’s got the kind of look that earns him eighteen hits.’
Suddenly—BOOM—a loud noise snapped our heads toward the Lecher and Wi Mu-gyeol.
From the way they were slugging it out, it wasn’t going to be some quick, bloody-nose brawl like with village punks.
The Wi Clan’s palm techniques weren’t some shabby street martial art either. So the Lecher would wait until Wi Mu-gyeol went through his whole technique before striking back.
But to be honest, there was no chance of the Lecher losing to Wi Mu-gyeol.
Still, even this kind of fight should be stacked like wealth—stored up as experience.
The Lecher and Wi Mu-gyeol held their ground through each exchange of palm techniques, but even I began to see the repetition in the forms.
Usually, when blades or spears clash once, it’s called an exchange—ilhap.
But that term is a bit misleading.
When two generals ride out and face off one-on-one, they’ll often exchange blows multiple times before circling back or riding past. Then when they clash again, that’s actually the second exchange—ihap.
So when people go around saying “Let’s clash a hundred times,” they don’t literally mean hitting blades exactly a hundred times—it just means, let’s fight long and hard.
Every sect or martial artist probably has a different view on it, but in my opinion, the second exchange was just starting now.
Watching the Lecher’s expression, I predicted this round would end the duel. The first exchange had been the Lecher watching Wi Mu-gyeol’s technique from start to finish. It’s the smart thing to do when facing someone you might have to fight again—get familiar with their methods early.
Now that the Lecher had gotten used to Wi Mu-gyeol’s technique, his counterattacks were getting faster. He responded as if predicting Wi Mu-gyeol’s movements. And now he started incorporating footwork he hadn’t used during the first exchange.
I’ve fought the Lecher myself, but I’d never seen this kind of tricky movement from him before. Using ice energy, he glided across the floor like a stiff ghost with a bad back—he looked like some kind of Ice Spirit.
“Ice bastard fights damn well...”