One day later, by the azure sea, on the pristine snow, a man was practicing martial arts under the sun. His feet were in constant motion, shifting horse stances, sometimes leaping, sometimes advancing, sometimes retreating, sometimes stepping sideways, advancing and retreating with precision, with flexibility and balance. His hands were only attacking, not defending, forming claws that attacked continuously, tearing, grasping, twisting, or slashing. Each strike was as fast as lightning, creating a powerful gust of wind and an extraordinary aura.
Not far away, a person was crouching on the ice, staring at the sea with a long knife in hand, motionless, his gaze as sharp as a sword. His whole body slightly bent, tense like a bow, the long knife in his hand like an arrow ready to fly. Suddenly, this person moved, thrusting the long knife forward like an arrow, though not releasing it.
