"You!!!"
For the first time, Ling'er's voice carried the faintest trace of fluctuation.
It was so light, so shallow, like ripples stirred across a calm lake by a suddenly thrown stone.
She lowered her head and glanced at the scratch on her left arm, her silver-gray pupils shifting slightly.
"Your attention was focused on pinpointing where I condensed."
"You sealed off the place where I could reform and grazed my true body with the aftershock of your axe light."
She raised her eyes to Li Tian. The thin mist deep within her pupils churned, like an ice sheet wrinkled by the wind.
"You saw through my pattern of condensation after only three strikes."
"Your combat instincts are very sharp."
Li Tian let out a breath and brought his axe back in front of him.
Several frost marks formed from lingering white mist still remained on his left arm.
Those frost marks were slowly eating away at the surface of his skin, like a layer of crawling white ants gnawing through wood.
He shook his arm, flinging off several bits of frozen frost, then bared his white teeth in a grin.
"I've been in plenty of fights. Who's standing, who's crouching, who's fake, who's real—I can get the rough idea after a few exchanges."
"Your condensation point is always half a foot to the left of the original spot. That's not a good habit."
"When you're fighting, you can't have habits that are too obvious. They'll be seized on."
Ling'er looked at him, and the corner of her lips curved slightly.
That curve was shallow, so very shallow, like a trace of warmth surfacing on ice, but it was truly there.
"You're right."
"This is a bad habit of mine."
"But just because you've caught one of my habits doesn't mean