But opposing her was her dear brother, who always pushed each technique to the brink of difficulty, and each move he made was to point her out, teach her, and give her moves to learn from under pressure, allowing her to gain insights.
She gritted her teeth, striving to comprehend it fully.
The battlefield was a blur of fists exchanging; the shadows of a man and a woman were sometimes like swimming dragons, sometimes like flying eagles, and occasionally like fierce tigers, their forms entwined.
The sound of bones clashing was like waves crashing against a dam, relentless and powerful.
In the stands, everyone leaned forward unconsciously, eyes wide open, watching intently.
Their combat scenes were as elusive as the horns of antelopes, a work of art!
With each collision, Tiger Girl's eyes grew brighter, her punches, leg technique, and footwork became increasingly precise and balanced.
It was as if iron hammered countless times, undergoing a clear transformation.
Suddenly.
