Ethan Brooks only felt the pressure around him growing heavier and heavier, with fists and feet spinning before his eyes like windmills. He had to dodge the opponent’s attacks while also memorizing their moves, trying his best to absorb and comprehend them. Even though Ethan Brooks’s intelligence was astonishingly high, at this moment he couldn’t help but feel dizzy and overwhelmed, as if he had exhausted all his tricks.

Suddenly, the opponent withdrew his fists and stepped back. Ethan Brooks immediately felt his whole body relax and let out a long breath. His body was nearly paralyzed, and it was only through sheer willpower that he managed to barely maintain his current standing posture.

“Human potential is limitless. Only by pushing yourself to the extreme can you achieve a breakthrough.”

The war-god-like man said expressionlessly, “There are no shortcuts in combat; it requires relentless hard training.”

“Then when does the training end?”

Ethan Brooks wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked.

“The question you raised is not programmed in; I cannot answer.”

The opponent replied woodenly, “Please prepare yourself. I am about to launch an attack at the highest combat level.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the opponent threw a punch.

This time, his boxing style changed. What seemed like a thunderous move suddenly became weak and powerless when Ethan Brooks tried to block it, while a gentle, casual strike exploded with astonishing force as it neared Ethan Brooks. Every punch and kick became elusive, sometimes real, sometimes feigned, impossible for Ethan Brooks to predict where the next attack would land.

After several moves, Ethan Brooks was forced to retreat again and again.

“Remember, offense is the best defense!”

The war-god-like man said expressionlessly, his fist as swift as lightning, making Ethan Brooks’s black hair fly backward.

A realization dawned on Ethan Brooks. Suddenly, he leaned back and fell flat to the ground, his legs shooting out like vipers, hooking the opponent’s legs and twisting hard.

The opponent’s legs were like steel pillars, unmoving. His right fist, accompanied by a gust of wind, suddenly struck downward, aiming for Ethan Brooks’s chest.

With a “bang,” Ethan Brooks finally took a punch, his body bouncing off the ground and crashing backward.

“The highest level of combat is an unconscious state, attacking and defending purely by instinct. When you reach that level, you’ll find that any simple or complex technique becomes superfluous.”

The war-god-like man’s voice gradually faded, his body turning into countless shining points of light, quickly vanishing.

Ethan Brooks slowly climbed up from the ground, deeply astonished. At the instant the opponent’s heavy punch touched Ethan Brooks’s chest, he had already twisted his body to dodge. Yet even so, the opponent’s glancing blow still knocked him down hard.

The essence of combat, truly worthy of its reputation.

Ethan Brooks began to ponder each of the opponent’s moves, occasionally getting up to mimic them, trying to digest everything he had just learned in the shortest time possible.

Time passed without him noticing, as Ethan Brooks became immersed in the wondrous world of combat, forgetting everything else.

The liquid around him began to surge like waves, slowly flowing forward.

Ethan Brooks buried himself in thought over the opponent’s parting words, finding them hard to understand. After all, combat is a conscious act; every move must be processed by the brain—how could it become an unconscious instinct? Moreover, for a novice like him, technique was crucial—how could it be considered superfluous?

The sound of rushing water suddenly reached his ears. Only then did Ethan Brooks snap out of his trance and look up. The liquid flowing beneath his feet suddenly sped up, like a wild horse breaking free of its reins, charging forward madly.

The deafening roar of water was shocking. Mist billowed before his eyes, and a vast, blindingly white waterfall stretched out ahead. Countless streams of water crashed down like an avalanche, thundering to the ground. Ethan Brooks had no time to react before he was swept into the waterfall, plummeting downward.

The rushing torrent struck his back like thousands of heavy hammers, making Ethan Brooks’s vision go black and the pain nearly causing him to lose consciousness.

With a thunderous crash, the water swept Ethan Brooks into a deep pool. Snowy waves splashed high, and Ethan Brooks sank with the crest of the wave, then began to paddle upward, gazing in awe at the mighty waterfall before him.

It was as if a shining Milky Way hung upside down. The waterfall crashed down from hundreds of meters above, its momentum overwhelming, splitting into countless white arrows as it hit the cliffs on either side. Each stream of water had its own speed, shape, and trajectory, changing endlessly in the sunlight, twisting and turning, just like the war-god man’s unpredictable moves.

This magnificent natural spectacle, in Ethan Brooks’s eyes, seemed to secretly echo the art of combat.

Ethan Brooks’s eyes shone as he swam closer, reaching out and lifting his feet to mimic the splashing water’s movements. At this moment, he was both studying the motion of the water, trying to comprehend the combat techniques he had just learned, and maintaining his balance to stay afloat. At first, Ethan Brooks would sink after just a couple of moves, gulping down mouthfuls of icy water. But gradually, he was able to multitask, floating steadily on the surface, each move he made subtly containing a delicate balance—part offense, part defense, movement within stillness—like performing a strange kind of synchronized swimming on the water’s surface.