Chapter 46: Deceptive Words

Han Li's situation was far from ideal. He was panting heavily, his face pale, thin beads of cold sweat beading on his forehead, and an unhealthy flush coloring his cheeks.

All these signs indicated that Han Li's life-saving technique had exhausted most of his physical strength. It was highly probable he wouldn't be able to use the same technique again.

Letting out a deep breath, Han Li tried to relax his body as much as possible to alleviate the heavy strain the 'Misty Smoke Steps' had placed on his muscles. At this moment, he could only seize every opportunity to recover more of his strength, hoping for a better chance of winning the next round of combat.

Han Li glanced down again at his left hand, which was still slightly trembling. It was completely numb, still without feeling, and utterly unable to hold a sword. It seemed his intentionally practiced left-handed swordsmanship was temporarily disabled; he would have to fight with his remaining right hand.

A wry smile touched his lips as he considered this. Now, with most of his strength gone, unable to use the intricate 'Misty Smoke Steps,' and worse, having to fight one-handed, this truly was the worst possible situation. It seemed he had no choice but to use his hidden final move.

Han Li looked towards the sun outside the house, estimated the time, and felt it was about right—perfectly suitable for executing this move.

He glanced again at the short sword stuck in the wall. It seemed there was no chance to retrieve this weapon; his opponent wouldn't allow him to casually walk over and pull it out.

Han Li pondered for a moment, then pulled another weapon from his robe. It was another short sword, about half a chi long, still sheathed. Due to its short length, it was more accurately described as a dagger than a sword. After drawing it from its sheath, it appeared much wider and thicker than a regular dagger. It gleamed brightly and looked exceptionally sharp.

Han Li discarded the sheath, switched to holding the sword in his right hand, extended his arm, and pointed the tip diagonally at his opponent, assuming an offensive stance.

Doctor Mo observed all of this but did not rush to attack. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back, his expression suddenly turning benevolent, and advised in a gentle voice:

"Han Li, your repeated escapes have indeed surprised me. But do you truly believe you can be as fortunate as before and escape my grasp again? The footwork you just used was impressive, but it appears to have significant limitations. Purely from a stamina perspective, you won't be able to execute it smoothly again. Just surrender obediently! You should be able to tell that I have no intention of seriously injuring you. If you comply, things might not be as bad as you imagine."

Doctor Mo's chameleon-like change in attitude sent shivers down Han Li's spine. One moment, his opponent played the benevolent teacher; the next, he was ruthless. Now, he was earnestly persuading Han Li to surrender, leaving Han Li truly at a loss for words. Did he really think Han Li would be so foolish as to fall for such an obvious trick?

However, his opponent's words surprisingly increased Han Li's confidence. If there wasn't a hint of apprehension towards him, why would he resort to such childish deception?

Han Li understood all this in an instant. He sighed, gently shook his head, and without uttering a word, simply gestured a few times towards his opponent with the short sword in his hand, clearly indicating his intent.

The veins on Doctor Mo's forehead throbbed. Seeing that Han Li completely ignored his advice and instead provoked him with his weapon, he could no longer suppress the rage in his heart.

"You fool!"

He suddenly took a large stride forward, then fiercely spat out: "Horizon's Reach."

Then, in a sudden blur, he effortlessly appeared just a few steps away from Han Li, as if employing the legendary Earth Shrinking technique, astonishing to behold.

Han Li seemed genuinely startled, a look of alarm on his face. He hastily retreated two steps, creating some distance from his opponent, before bringing the short sword in his hand horizontally before him and swirling it into a small flash of cold light, blocking Doctor Mo's path. He seemed to have completely forgotten the difficulties he faced in their last exchange.

Doctor Mo secretly sneered. Naturally, he wasn't kind enough to remind his opponent. He parted his palms, attacking Han Li from two directions, completely disregarding the flashing cold light.

Just as the two silver hands were about to penetrate the sword's light, a soft chuckle suddenly came from the opposite side. The laugh was full of unbridled glee, like a hunter's triumphant laugh upon seeing his prey step into a trap.

Doctor Mo's heart tensed. He unconsciously slowed his momentum, his movements stiffening slightly. But then, he heard a chilling remark:

"Now, you've truly fallen into a trap. Look at the short sword in my hand!"

Hearing this, Doctor Mo involuntarily looked at the short sword. He saw that, at some point, his opponent had stopped his sword movements and adopted a strange posture. His upper body was slightly reclined, the short sword held in one hand flat at his waist, while his lower body was in a tense, ready-to-spring bow stance. The entire pose resembled someone drawing a bow and arrow.

On the short sword mentioned in the remark, apart from a faint shimmering blue light, there was nothing unusual. This left Doctor Mo bewildered. Did his opponent truly believe that by adopting such a bizarre stance and employing deceitful words, he could disturb his mind and gain an advantage?

Thinking this, Doctor Mo found it somewhat amusing and almost opened his mouth to mock his opponent. But then, Han Li suddenly lunged forward, like an arrow shot from a powerful bow, transforming into a sharp projectile and rocketing across from the opposite side. The speed of his approach made Doctor Mo's expression change.

Doctor Mo hastily brought his separated hands together, intending to trap the opponent's sword blade between his palms. However, the short sword opposite him flickered slightly, transforming into over a dozen identical sharp blades, stabbing directly from various directions, making it impossible to distinguish the real from the fake.

Doctor Mo snorted, his opinion of Han Li dropping further. In front of an expert like him, using such flashy yet impractical moves—wasn't that simply seeking death? He could discern the real blade's position at a glance.