Brother, You Have to Believe Me

In the mountain forest:

A group of masked cultivators hurried along, stirring their mana and casting spells such as Swift Wind and Windwalking as they headed straight for the last peak of Seven Maidens Mountain.

They were not the only team launching a deadly raid on Seven Maidens Mountain, merely one of many.

Their target was simple enough: according to their intelligence, they were dealing with an Old Cultivation Method cultivator who had only been refining mana for two or three months.

Old Cultivation Method cultivators had uncanny tricks, but they refined mana inefficiently.

No matter how exquisite their techniques were, how many spells could they cast?

Besides, although they were New-Method Cultivators, they had also received guidance from an Old Cultivation Method cultivator and were confident they had ways to counter someone who had only recently begun refining mana.

Thus, everyone brimmed with confidence.

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

When they were still twenty or thirty li from the peak, the pupils of the cultivator at the rear contracted.

He had suddenly spotted Palace Maidens charging out of the surrounding grass.

These Palace Maidens moved as gracefully as dancing songstresses.

Yet each carried a pair of sabers, killing intent rolling off them as they attacked from every direction.

"Heh, using martial artists to stop us?"

"What a joke!"

"Fireball Spell!"

The cultivator channeled his mana. A moment later, fireballs roared out, effortlessly tearing through the martial artists.

Watching their flesh explode and their bodies tumble to the ground, he curled his lips upward.

"My Fireball Spell is even faster now!"

"Looks like my mastery of this spell has risen again."

The other cultivators gave him thumbs-ups and showered him with praise. "Brother, you're amazing!"

"Brother, your aim with those fireballs is incredible!"

"Brother..."

Amid the repeated calls of "brother," his lips continued to rise in a smile.

But as he smiled, he began to feel cold all over.

He realized that the companions calling him brother were becoming strangely unreal.

Some even lost their face coverings, revealing faces covered in thick beards.

Something's wrong!

None of my companions have thick beards.

Damn it, I must be caught in an illusion!

His mind raced, and he immediately bit the tip of his tongue. Blood from the tongue and intense pain can both break an illusion.

"Break!"

He tried to spit blood to shatter the illusion.

But although he bit through his tongue, no blood came out.

What's happening to me?

Where's the blood from my tongue?

My neck feels so cold!

A moment later, he saw a tiny figure jump off his body. It raced forward, its clothes and build transforming into his own.

He instinctively touched his neck.

So much blood!

Thud!

The cultivator collapsed.

His eyes bulged as he stared straight ahead, watching the uncanny figure that had replaced him mingle with his companions, watching his other self raise a butcher's blade behind their backs.

Damn it, I've been set up!

Was it that cultivator who just started refining mana? How are his tricks even stranger than those of the Old Cultivation Method cultivator who trained us?

I don't want to die!

It took so much for me to finally become a cultivator.

At the foot of the mountain:

Wang Quan lightly tapped the case with his fingers.

Tiny Paper People moved along the rim of the water basin.

Wang Quan breathed out streams of mana to empower them.

When the moment came, some performed backflips, some spun three and a half times, and some simply jumped from where they stood, diving into the basin one after another.

The instant they entered the basin, they vanished.

At the same time, twenty or thirty li away, they appeared on the bodies of the cultivators.

Long sabers sliced across necks, and spears pierced skulls.

Cultivators fell to the ground one after another.

The Paper People that killed them assumed their victims' appearances, caught up with the team, and kept running.

Trees swayed, and mountain winds swept through.

Wang Quan left the basin, rose, and stared ahead.

Rustle!

A dozen or so masked cultivators burst out of the forest.

Their leader spotted Wang Quan and threw back his head in laughter. "You scoundrel! This is the Blissful Union House's territory. You dare steal what belongs to the Blissful Union House? You must have a death wish!"

"Kill!"

At the sight, the spirits threw down their tools and ran for their lives.

The lead cultivator laughed heartily. "Scoundrel, die!"

"Ice Arrow Spell!"

He channeled his mana, conjuring gleaming blue ice arrows that hurtled toward Wang Quan.

Whoosh!

Wang Quan breathed out a mouthful of [Bright Moon Mana], which burst in front of the ice arrows.

A moment later, the gleaming blue arrows struck it and instantly appeared ten li away.

The cultivator showed no fear at his spell's uncanny disappearance. Instead, he casually grabbed a handful of talisman paper and began chanting.

A moment later, the talisman paper burned, becoming dozens of fireballs that roared toward Wang Quan once more.

At the same time, he shouted, "Brothers, attack together! Kill him!"

Wang Quan opened his mouth again and breathed out a Moonlight Escape.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Dozens of Fireball Spells were instantly transported ten li away.

The cultivator's pupils contracted. "What an uncanny trick!"

"Brothers, attack together!"

"No matter how strange his tricks are, can he really stop spells from all dozen of us?"

Then he retreated, intending to put his brothers in front of him and let them test Wang Quan's strength.

But after quietly backing up several steps, he found that the space before him remained empty.

He instinctively turned his head and saw his companions still standing behind him.

"Brothers, attack together!"

"Didn't we agree before coming that we'd face death without fear and kill this vile scoundrel?"

"If anyone fell in battle, weren't the rest of us supposed to burn incense and send clothes to our dead brothers on holidays, the three festivals, and the two birthdays?"

"Are you all afraid?"

The dozen cultivators shook their heads in unison. "We're not afraid!"

"If you're not afraid, charge in and fight!"

"We're already dead. How can we charge?"

"Huh?"

A moment later, the New Method cultivator saw the color drain from his companions' faces. They looked like paper effigies, their bodies pallid and rouge blooming on their cheeks.

In an instant, his hair stood on end.

Anomalies, in broad daylight?

Drip!

Drip!

Drip!

Beads of sweat fell from his forehead.

The New Method cultivator swallowed and instinctively edged toward Wang Quan. "Brother, I only wanted to test your abilities just now!"

"I meant no harm!"

"Look, these anomalies are the ones with malicious intent."

"They may have come with me, but I swear I'm not with them."

Wang Quan backed away and shook his head.

The New Method cultivator grew frantic. "I'm really not with them!"

"Brother, you have to believe me!"

Wang Quan nodded. "I believe you!"

"Then why are you still backing away?"

Wang Quan said, "Because I'm with them!"

The New Method cultivator... fell silent.

A moment later, he suddenly grabbed a handful of talismans and flung them onto the ground.

Bang! Bang! The talismans exploded, releasing billowing black, white, and red smoke that spread in every direction.

Using the smoke as cover, the New Method cultivator fled for his life.

Wang Quan sighed. "Don't you know cultivators have plenty of smoke-related spells?"

The fleeing New Method cultivator looked back and saw Wang Quan snap his fingers. Two hazy streams of mana fell into the smoke, which transformed into huge, multicolored hands that reached for him.

At the same time, Wang Quan's voice rang out:

"In your next life, don't go calling just anyone your brother!"