What should have been a contest of martial skill and swordsmanship between wandering heroes had been infiltrated by someone who knew magic—and he had used Spell without the slightest regard for martial honor.
In the eyes of these bold men of the rivers and lakes, using Spell itself was nothing frightening. In their travels, they had seen plenty of itinerant sorcerers who knew a few minor spells: swindlers, child thieves, abductors of women, curse-workers, healers of uncanny illnesses... None of those counted as Sword Immortals. Only someone who could send a Flying Sword soaring inspired their fear and respect.
Amid the sinister wind, Bai Qi was startled but kept his composure. He stirred his true qi, guarded his mind within, and shouted sternly, "Deviant sorcery! Do you think I'd fear you?"
He took out six Dragon Coins, held them in his hand, and poured true qi into them. As his body turned in the wind, he hurled them like hidden weapons.
Every Dragon Coin struck a Ghost squarely. Whether Mao Tai, who had died yesterday, or the Five Tigers of the Dou Family, who had just died, they had been ruthless in life but had largely lost their nerve after death. Many condemned criminals were vicious and brutal while alive, killing countless people by hideously cruel means, yet when the time came to march them to the execution grounds, they wept in terror and lost control of their bowels. Their trouser legs had to be tied shut beforehand to keep them from fouling the ground.
Mao Tai had been a notorious outlaw with countless crimes to his name. Even after death, he remained fierce and had absorbed a good deal of baleful energy. The Five Tigers of the Dou Family, however, had been pampered since childhood. Dying once had broken