To forcefully cast a spell with a mere mortal body comes at an enormous cost—the very life force of Li Mo.
The fleeting brilliance purchased with his vitality symbolizes the cry of the common man who dares to defy the immortals.
Raise your head, and you will see—does the sky show mercy to anyone?
In the briefest of moments, the eldest son of the Li family aged decades in an instant—his hair darkened, skin wrinkled, and his once proud posture now stooped, while the two flying swords lodged in his shoulders became unbearable burdens.
Yet Li Mo smiled still, for he had secured his own victory—having personally slain a sorcerer. This was worth the cost of his life.
By sacrificing his life force, he had forced the activation of a spell far beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. His survival, standing here now, was largely thanks to over a decade of rigorous training and seeking out rare heavenly treasures that might improve or alter his constitution.
Although most of these so-called treasures were but mere mortal things, offering limited aid, and his innate talent could never truly unlock the secrets of cultivation, the relentless effort had not been without some benefit.
Compared to ordinary men, he was, at least, granted an overflowing vitality and immunity to disease.
With his last bit of strength, he swallowed several black pills, feeling his body weaken to the point where even lifting a finger was impossible.
Still, a smile lingered on his lips.
A mortal's sneer.
It seemed to mock the so-called sorcerers, who, despite their lofty airs, were no different from common men—how laughable, how absurd their pretensions of superiority.
"I will kill you!"
Li Mo's chilling laughter pierced through the air, as the senior disciple of the Star-Gathering Sect's hair stood on end, eyes burning with rage. His younger brother had died in an instant, unable even to cry out before his life was extinguished.
What baffled him even more was that a mere mortal could kill a righteous sorcerer. This was an affront to the entire sect! To not tear Li Mo's body apart would not be enough to quench his hatred.
The senior disciple, now furious, reached for the flying swords embedded in Li Mo's shoulders to finish him off. However, a sudden instinctive warning forced him to raise his hand just in time to deflect a flash of cold light.
Pain surged through his hand as a slender flying dagger impaled his palm, piercing all the way through. Had he not raised his hand reflexively, the dagger would have struck his forehead.
When had it become possible for mere mortals to harm the exalted sorcerers? This was intolerable!
Where was his defensive spell?
A sudden realization jolted the senior disciple into noticing that his protective spiritual shield had a small hole in it, slowly closing under the pressure of his magic.
This flying dagger was no ordinary weapon!
"Father!"
Li Mo, astonished, looked to his father in disbelief. How could a mere mortal harm a sorcerer? He had no idea his father was skilled in martial arts, let alone the art of throwing knives.
"Hmph! I too bear the Li name. You wish to kill my son, have you asked me first?"
Old Li's hand lowered, and between his fingers was a seven-inch long throwing knife. He was no longer unarmed.
After years of disuse, the weapon felt as if it had never left his grasp.
"By the gods! Old Li's throwing knife?!"
Li Xiaobai, who had been preparing to flee, stared wide-eyed in shock.
To think that a wealthy, corrupt landowner would turn out to be a martial arts master—and a skilled thrower of knives, no less! Moreover, he shared the Li surname. It was hard not to think of the legendary "Little Li Throwing Knife."
But given Old Li's age, it seemed more appropriate to call it "Old Li's Throwing Knife," though it appeared to have lost none of its edge.
His father was Old Li of the throwing knives, his elder brother could activate spiritual symbols to annihilate sorcerers, and his future wife was protected by mysterious artifacts. Truly, the Li family was full of surprises.
And what of his second brother? Li Xiaobai turned to look at the still immobile Li Qing, the scholarly second son who had yet to recover. He seemed to embody the helplessness of an ineffective scholar.
Could he too be hiding his true strength?
"How dare you!"
The senior disciple of the Star-Gathering Sect glared at Li Dahu, his hatred for the mortals of this small town palpable. How dare they resist? Shouldn't they simply submit and await their doom?
He did not even bother to remove the throwing knife still lodged in his right palm but instead used his left hand to command the flying sword that had pierced Li Mo's shoulder to fly back and strike.
Li Mo grunted in pain as the sword wrenched free, causing him to stagger backwards, finally collapsing to the ground, blood oozing from two gaping holes the size of copper coins in his shoulders.
Though the black pills he had swallowed were rare, they were still mortal in nature, and their effects were not yet fully realized.
To the senior disciple of the Star-Gathering Sect, Li Mo, having sacrificed so much to activate the spiritual symbol, was nothing but a fish on the chopping block—defenseless. It was Li Dahu, the one wielding the throwing knives, who was now the true threat.
Once the spiritual shield was breached, Li Dahu became a legitimate adversary.
With blinding speed, the reversed flying sword shot towards Li Dahu.
Without magic, without instruments, and without spells, even with his unusual throwing knives, a mere mortal could not stand against a sorcerer in earnest.
But as the flying sword approached, Li Dahu faced it without fear. With a loud cry, he charged forward, throwing two knives with precise timing that deflected the sword's path.
The knives seemed to be encased in a faint white mist, their aura clashing with the sword's spiritual energy, not yielding in the slightest.
The sword narrowly grazed Li Dahu's cheek, leaving two thin cuts, but it veered off course, shooting past him and traveling nearly a hundred steps before turning back.
Seizing the opportunity, Li Dahu charged forward, hurling two more knives with deadly intent, unconcerned with the returning sword.
In mere moments, he closed the gap, outpacing the sword's return.
The throwing knives had the power to pierce the spiritual shield, giving both sides the ability to kill.
"Stay back!"
With his remaining magic, the senior disciple of the Star-Gathering Sect summoned a wave of energy that exploded outward.
A figure was thrown violently into the air, soaring above the heads of Li Qing and the others before crashing into the Li residence, followed by a deafening thud.
The bandits watching in stunned silence had failed to realize the true strength of the Li family. They had never expected the Li family to stand toe to toe with two sorcerers and emerge victorious, with one of them reduced to nothing.
Had it not been for the two sorcerers' interference, taking the Li family would have cost them hundreds of lives.
"Father!"
Li Mo rolled on the ground, his face streaked with tears and dirt, powerless to do anything but watch as his father was blasted away by the sorcerer's spell.
Thrown so far and with such force, even a sorcerer would not survive.
"Heh! A mortal is still just a mortal!"
The senior disciple of the Star-Gathering Sect sneered, his arrogant laughter cut short as he looked down and saw the throwing knife lodged deep in his chest.
"Martial remnants..."
His life force began to drain rapidly. Were it not for his remaining magic, he would have already fallen.
Still, this fatal wound was the end of his life—his countdown had begun.
"Gurgle..."
A strange sound echoed from the sorcerer's throat. His glare turned to Li Mo as he hissed through clenched teeth, "Clever tactics. I admit, I underestimated you mortals. But even in death, I will make you feel the pain of losing those you love. May you live in regret for eternity!"
His gaze shifted to Li Qing and Li Xiaobai, and with his last burst of magic, he sent the flying sword hurtling toward them.
"Little brother!"
Wu Xiangjun cried out in alarm, about to shield Li Xiaobai with her jade amulet, but two strong arms suddenly pressed her down, pushing her aside.
A figure, not especially tall or imposing, stood before her.
"Do not be afraid!"
Li Xiaobai shook his head, steadfastly facing the incoming sword with his own body poised to protect the woman he had just met, who might one day be his wife.
Some would call it chivalry, others would say he was foolish—a man so determined he would rather be struck down than let a woman take his place.
Hearing those words for the second time, tears welled up in Wu Xiangjun's eyes.
She felt the sincerity in his gesture—a promise and responsibility that only a man who truly cared could make.
"Little brother!"
"Little brother!"
Li Qing struggled on the ground, cursing his own helplessness, wishing he had the martial skill of his father and elder brother, so he could protect his younger brother and Wu Xi