Liam didn’t come out of the clash unscathed. Spikes had been rising toward him, and his sudden follow-up had only matched their speed.

The rugged man had indeed flown away, but two rocky spikes had also stabbed Liam’s abdomen, crumbling right afterward due to his attack’s violence, but drawing blood nonetheless.

Those injuries were deeper than what the debris had caused. As tough as Liam’s muscles were, they weren’t a barrier. He had been stabbed in two different places, but he could disregard the matter, his Qi tending to it already. Actually, he had to.

Liam felt pressure from his right. A big water bullet was flying through the air at high speed, aiming for his head, and he leaned forward to dodge it.

The old woman had retreated near the wall, using that opportunity to attack, and Liam didn’t even look in her direction to charge at her.

Waves of Qi flowed everywhere in Liam’s vision. Bluish currents charged at him, being more ethereal than air, but carrying annoying properties.

Liam zigzagged between the first two currents, but the third was already there when his foot was about to return to the floor. He interrupted the gesture, bending his leg and tensing his abdomen to forcefully halt his momentum, creating an opening his opponent didn’t hesitate to exploit.

The current under Liam twisted. He would have managed to stop himself through sheer strength, but that bluish wave went for his single foothold, making it slippery.

Liam fell prey to his momentum. He slipped on his butt, sliding forward, his figure about to roll, only for him to slam his feet down.

However, bluish waves were already there. Liam’s feet hit the floor, only to slide forward, stretching his legs, trapped in that unreliable environment.

That was eerily similar to what had happened to the bear. Liam couldn’t use his physical strength, and the old woman had already exploited that trap.

Rather than a bullet, what flew at Liam now was a javelin made of water aimed directly at his chest, and there was no way to dodge it.

If Liam panicked, the unstable environment would trap him even further. His senses also warned him about the javelin’s power. It was a rank 2 spell, something his body alone couldn’t oppose.

Without pills, Liam’s body was nothing more than a rank 2 material. It was capable of incredible prowess, but it was also just flesh, resilient but brittle.

Even if Liam’s body were more oriented toward defense instead of strength, it would still fail to block the javelin. A spell was the utmost expression of a cultivator’s power after all. Only something at the same level could oppose it.

It seemed Liam’s only option was to rely on his own techniques, but that wasn’t what that training was about, and there was something else he could do.

Liam remained as still as possible, continuing to slide forward, his feral glare at the incoming javelin, before his hands snapped up.

The momentum was instantly reversed. Liam flew backward, pushed by the spell he had caught with his bare hands, his muscles tensing to no end to stop it.

It soon became clear that there was no stopping the spell. Liam just wasn’t strong enough. The javelin kept advancing toward his chest as he slid backward, but opposing it wasn’t all he could do.

Liam suddenly stopped, lying on the floor, sweat covering his face, his arms numb due to the intense strain. As for the javelin, it had stabbed that flat surface right above his left shoulder.

Blocking a rank 2 spell with basic physical strength alone might indeed be impossible, but pushing it off-course was a different matter altogether.

But all was not well for Liam.

The javelin melted into water, but Liam felt something far bigger coming. The rank 2 spell had pushed him out of the bluish currents’ range, allowing him to jump to his feet in time to see a giant fist made of rocks descending toward him.

The shoulder bash hadn’t put the rugged man out of commission. It had instead made him and the old woman decide to take out Liam first.

The giant descending punch looked like another rank 2 spell, albeit opposite to the javelin. The latter had piercing power, while the former aimed to crush and squash.

Liam could run, even easily. The fist was slow all things considered, and Liam had yet to show what his Qi mastery truly amounted to. Leaving the spell’s range would take but a jump, but he stood still.

A doubt that the battle in the Mercenary Guild hadn’t been able to solve still afflicted Liam’s mind. He had no idea how strong he was. He could guess with some accuracy, but that was nowhere close to proper confidence.

The javelin had a series of issues Liam couldn’t face without techniques, namely the piercing properties. However, the Metal Hand had conditioned his knuckles, theoretically allowing him to match that giant descending fist with one of his own.

The Metal Hand only provided sturdiness and grip strength, meaning Liam could still get squashed, but he wanted to try. His legs bent as he turned his waist to wear the battle stance he had learned in the Pale Moon Sect, thrusting his punch upward, putting all the weight he could muster into it.

The rocky fist exploded but kept descending, burying the area in debris, creating a small hill on the floor. Cracks opened everywhere due to the violent impact, but a tense, silent second went by.

The rugged man, the old woman, and the audience had all witnessed what Liam had tried to do and were now waiting. In theory, it sounded ludicrous for a mere punch to match a rank 2 spell, but the same should have been true for the javelin.

As if to answer the silence, a side of the small hill exploded, and cheers resounded when a masked figure walked out of the new hole, stretching his left arm, his hand on his shoulder, patches of dried blood littering him, but in one piece.