I didn’t use fists a lot, but I did rely solely on them in my last childhood. They protected me from bandits, wolves, and my bullies. Even when the blade was in my hands, I still carried these fists with power.

Yun An's fingers hooked onto the collar of an image. When she intended to make a throw, the image tore away the fabric that she grabbed.

Truly…

Shard of frustration gritted her teeth.

At least, I can be comforted to know that their perception isn’t anywhere near my level.

The mechanism appeared to have only analyzed Dong Yun An’s qi and body, then filled up the rest using a rule of thumb.

The images, therefore, could do many things except being able to perceive more than they can react unlike Yun An could.

Her punch moved forth, breaking an image’s guard. As she knocked the image back, the backlash in the form of pain vibrated through her hand.

My hands still hurt.

Amidst the pain, another feeling, one that used to be so familiar, resurfaced.

It is returning.

The memory of it that once pulsed in the body of her previous existence was finally installed into Dong Yun An’s body as she had hoped.

Yun An's next uppercut was a miss, but its power was immensely visible through the disturbance of the surrounding air.

She, the existence before Dong Yun An, had polished her fists. As she came closer to the end of her family quest, the pinnacle of fist came into view for her. The peak that any practitioners of the fist dreamed day and night of getting a glimpse. The peak that many trained till they self-destroyed their body but couldn't reach. The peak that was said that only reveals to those that were fated to meet.

Just as kick users coveted the pinnacle of kick, swordsman to their own pinnacle, and so for the spear masters, the savants of the palm, the seekers of the sabre, the lord fighters that held their halberds and countless more, those who carries their fists with pride were also desperate for the highest authority in their field of expertise.

That peak was visible to her once before even though she didn't even have it in her aim back then.

That peak. The trail to that peak, she had walked into it in the body of Dong Yun An during the battle against these images.

Dong Yun An crashed a fist into another image’s guard.

The qi structure was too late in its evasion.

If the image has bones, Yun An surmised the punch would break at least one.

Pain transmitted through her knuckles across her entire arm again.

This, I understand. Yun An suppressed her pain with an understanding thought. The pinnacle of fist to me are movement with the most efficiency and form that allows the best use of my strength. I haven’t been able to reproduce them reliably, but whenever I did I caused enough damage to hurt my injured body.

Geniuses of the fist can teach others the pinnacle with words. I am not a genius. I can’t even tell my own body how to do it. I had to resolve to a feeling, like a wanderer stumbled into the road to the peak but rejected, then had to recall the path again by piecing together the clues along the way. This feeling is the path to the summit. This path that I was not interested in the past. This time, I will have to intrude, may be going even further into the high abode then I used to if I want to deal with this world with qi before I got my "blade".

Pressure from another attack of Yun An slammed the image against the wall.

To capitalize on her opponent’s precarious situation, she readied the next, only to have her arms restrained by the other images, one on each side.

As they locked onto her arms, she latched onto them. Shifting qi from her feet toward her hands, she lifted them into the air.

Among the moves that I can do, this is one that doesn’t need friction under my feet for a full-strength attack.

A squishing sound signaled the deed as the two images were smashed together.

The force behind her hands were so great, her knuckles went right through their bodies and crashed against each other.

From nothing, the images came into existence. To nothing, they returned.

The one remaining has gotten up.

Without interference, this will be straightforward. She exhaled, prepared to finish the job.

As if reading her mind and desiring to disprove it, this image entered a new stance.

For the next five minutes, it persisted. Her punches were redirected. It would lean onto her motion and bent the trajectory of her attacks. It would be correct to say this image used its strength to wrestle with the direction of her attacks instead of impede the power head on.

Even when I hit, there was no resistance. It would jump backward or sideway depending on the movement of my fists. A tint of interest sparked on her indifferent expression. The image. I thought they are just mindless things.

Yun An pulled out the knowledge she had gathered her previous life. The knowledge that was ingrained into her to the point it became innate.

In the world of martial arts, there are hardness and softness. Every martial art’s style carries a different ratio of these paired properties. The softness compromises with the flow. The hardness stands against the current.

Softness is characterized by flexibility, mediation, and fluidity. The defensive style of this image was this softness. Instead of confronting the raging river, it dug a channel that would leave the water away.

Using softness to win against hardness, this works against the martial art of Shadowless sect. Techniques of the sect favor accuracy, speed, and burst of power. Lightning slash, Invisible sword, Ten directions footwork, and even Soundless palm were designed around these points. Their goal is to dispatch the enemy quickly, denying any chance of escape or retaliation. They are mostly hardness.

My fighting style is also the hard style. The only difference between mine and the sect is crudeness vs accuracy. If the sect’s sword technique is multiple layers of blade perfectly stacked into oneness, then my sword would be akin to the explosiveness of blackpowder, screaming at everything in its vicinity, even against itself.

The corner of her lips curved up like a grandma feeling excited that her grand kids just surprised her. I wonder which direction will the image try to move along when everything will be in disharmony.

She clenched her fist and worsened the fractured arm in preparation for the next move.