For a moment, derisive laughter spread through several rogue cultivator camps.
Several young cultivators in blue-gray Daoist robes stood with their arms folded, their gazes resting on Su Yueli and her two companions, undisguised mockery curling their lips.
In the Cultivation World, a chasm separated mortals from cultivators.
Without a spiritual root, one could not sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and was doomed to spend a lifetime floundering in the mud.
Even if mortal warriors trained their muscles and bones until their skin grew tough, before spells and flying swords that could harness the power of heaven and earth, they remained nothing more than living targets that could be slain within a few breaths.
Immortal cultivators monopolized eternal life, resources, and the rules of heaven and earth.
To everyone present, mortals who dreamed of tempering their bodies through martial training to contend with time and cultivators were merely rootless wastes moaning over ailments they did not have, struggling laughably because they failed to understand the laws of the Heavenly Dao.
Han Yu frowned at the jeers.
Three years of inhuman torment had stripped Han Yu of all the vanity and pride of a mortal warrior.
She knew full well the gap between herself and immortal cultivators.
Against an opponent of the same realm, a fourth realm cultivator could send a sword to kill from dozens of yards away. Their protective spiritual aura could block blunt-force strikes, to say nothing of talismans and five-element spells that were impossible to guard against.
There were no shortcuts for mortal warriors who wanted to win.
A warrior had to endure broken bones, even a flying sword piercing their organs, and force their way across those dozens of yards of death to come within three steps of the cultivator, then shatter that