Chapter 113: The Verdict

"That was totally awesome! I have to say, he truly is Mr. Li's child—what a grand performance, a dance amidst gunfire."

On a twelve-story building, Lawrence Collinson watched the situation inside the abandoned dormitory across the way through an infrared thermal imager.

Due to the obstruction of the magical protective array, the infrared thermal imager in his hand had limited effectiveness. However, he also had 'Eagle Eye' to roughly gauge the situation inside. Lawrence knew that Li Mochen was still safe, and that Hancock's men had mostly been dealt with.

"Quiet, Lawrence!"

Li Tailai's cold voice came through the intercom: "We're here to help, not to watch the boss perform. He's already proven his strength, hasn't he? And now we can do more for him."

Lawrence's expression tightened slightly: "So what do you suggest, Atai? I think the boss's tone earlier indicated he didn't want us interfering in his fight. This might anger him."

"The boss's target is Dandy Hancock."

Li Tailai continued: "I've confirmed that the basement of this military dormitory connects to the sewers. We'd better find a way to destroy the nearby escape routes."

Lawrence shrugged: "Atai, I admit it's a good idea, but we don't have the sewer blueprints—"

"Enough, don't forget what my magic profession is."

Li Tailai said coldly over the intercom: "I'll send you the coordinates later, using this dormitory as a reference. Kemi, keep an eye on the boss's movements and provide support at any time."

Lawrence, meanwhile, grimaced with disgust: "Damn it! You didn't use 'Animal Domination' on the rats in the sewers, did you? My god, stay far away from me at dinner tomorrow, Atai."

On the first floor of the dormitory, as the temperature of the concrete floor plummeted to minus a hundred degrees Celsius, Li Mochen triggered his innate spell 'Gouchen Possession' and swung 'Holy Thunder Judgment' again. With a flash of thunder, the floor shattered into pieces. As countless chunks of concrete and rubble collapsed, gunfire rang out continuously from below. Red bullets, ignoring all obstacles, struck Li Mochen's body with deadly precision, tearing it apart bit by bit.

By the time all the concrete had fallen, Li Mochen's body was riddled with holes and barely recognizable. But seven meters away, the man in the red shirt frowned, ceased fire, and looked around warily.

He had realized it was only a wooden dummy—though it had felt real to his senses, its true nature was exposed when most of its body was shattered by his bullets.

An instant later, a swirl of wind stirred, and a figure appeared abruptly to his right. A sharp sword light, wrapped in a mass of lightning, slashed viciously toward his neck.

The red-shirted man's hands extended sharp claws, and his face grew even paler. His form flickered, dodging with extreme contortions at nearly Mach 1.2, while his twin pistols fired twenty-two times in the span of a finger snap, expending various high-grade magic bullets without restraint.

But it was futile. He still couldn't stop Li Mochen's approach; the latter's top speed was only a little over a third of his. Yet the preternatural predictive ability, clearly beyond human limits, made the red-shirted man's scalp tingle. Many times, he seemed to be throwing himself onto the opponent's blade.

Heaven knew how the other did it, but every shot he fired and every dodge he made was anticipated by the masked man. In comparison, the opponent's bizarre movement techniques were not so astonishing.

The cramped space of the basement and the freezing rays continuously shot by the Ice Princess left him no room to retreat.

After the twenty-second shot, the red-shirted man had to abandon his magic guns. Two short blades slid from his sleeves, weaving a curtain of cold light before him.

A series of sparks burst between the two. Li Mochen held an absolute advantage in both strength and speed in this close combat, but the other man, aided by his external elixir and armor, managed to hold on with difficulty.

The main support still came from the Ice Princess. Once the red-shirted man abandoned his guns, this mutated elemental commander could directly intervene, helping Li Mochen block most of the attacks.

As time passed, both the red-shirted man's weapons and body became covered in frost. Yet his speed did not slow; instead, it grew fiercer. Li Mochen, on the other hand, was no longer as swift. His opponent was also proficient in ice magic, each attack laced with freezing power, and occasionally blasting a freezing ray at him.

Though Little Ember Dragon and his external elixir were working hard to neutralize it, Li Mochen was gradually affected.

"Impressive, you're really impressive! A mere level-five magic swordsman—I've never seen anyone like you."

The red-shirted man's eyes gleamed with a crimson light: "But how long can you maintain this speed and strength, boy? I bet your internal organs must be hurting right now. I wager you'll run out of magic in ten minutes at most. I'll taste your blood—a genius like you must have sweet blood."

A hint of annoyance flickered in Li Mochen's eyes.

To be looked down upon by such a filthy creature as a vampire—he, who questioned the sword with a heart attuned to heaven's will and acted as heaven's agent—

He suddenly stepped back three paces and waved his right hand, summoning the 'Divine Fortune Purple-Gold Tower' to float behind him. The multicolored spiritual light around it dimmed slightly.

The red-shirted man was puzzled but grew intensely wary, wondering if this was some kind of artifact. Yet it looked plain and unremarkable, just a stone model tower with nothing special about it.

But at that moment, a growing sense of terror and foreboding stirred within him.

"Die!"

With a cold shout from Li Mochen, the sword light slashed again. Midway, it blazed with crimson fire.

That was Intermediate Flame Sword Technique, a unique skill of magic swordsmen combining explosion and swordsmanship.

The red-shirted man let out a shrill laugh and parried with ease. The strike seemed ordinary, with no special variation; he thought he could block it with just a little effort.

But at that moment, several gunshots rang out from above—one of Hancock's remaining subordinates had somehow arrived outside the huge pit and was firing down.

However, Li Mochen seemed to have anticipated it; with a swing of his sword, he easily dodged the bullets.

The red-shirted man instinctively tried to dodge, but a bullet hit his right hand. The power of the intermediate explosive round made his body tremble, but what horrified him more was that the fiery sword light had taken advantage of the opening.

"No—"

With a loud bang, a small part of the red-shirted man's body was instantly incinerated. As his remains scattered into countless tiny bats flying in all directions, Li Mochen mercilessly uttered a Latin word: "Regnandi!"

Instantly, a sea of silver-white lightning exploded in the space of less than forty square meters, turning into a thunderous electric sea that reduced every fleeing bat to ashes.