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Attacking a woman’s chest was taboo in the murim.
However, that was a taboo only adhered to when sparring. After all, it wasn’t an acceptable point to insist on in a fight where both parties had their lives on the line to kill the other.
No, in fact, even saying that attacking a woman’s chest or their lower important features is cowardly was just utter arrogance! Arrogance based the premise that women are weaker than men!
If a male expert had to fight a female expert of the same stage with such restrictions, how could they ever win?
That was why there was a saying in the murim: be careful of children, the elderly, and especially women.
Countless male martial artists died because they looked down on their opponents and thought they could win even while refraining from striking the breasts or genitals, or because they thought themselves some kind of saints.
In any case, Woo-Moon didn’t consider the old-looking Mu Hu to be a woman, or anything other than an enemy for that matter. And he most certainly didn’t look down on her just because she was a woman.
In any case, the moment Woo-Moon’s sword reached Mu Hu’s chest, three palm prints sunk into his back.
“Ugh!”
Woo-Moon shook slightly.
As it turned out, Mu Hu was not oonly a master of the whip, and her Nether...
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