"Your aptitude is the worst of the worst. You'll never advance beyond Foundation Establishment." The immortal master had sentenced me to death.
"A commoner has no power. What makes you think you can claim military honors?" The aristocrats had cut off my path.
"A mortal body is nothing but food for evil gods." The other races treated me like grass beneath their feet.
I honed the ordinary iron in my hand and answered them one by one:
"I don't cultivate qi or practice magic with my blade. I hone a single breath, a single will."
Later, the dynasty's prodigies fell back before my blade, and I shattered courtly conspiracies with a single strike.
Later still, evil gods descended, and all the immortals bowed their heads. Dragging my 'ordinary' broken blade, I made my way to the very front.
The god sneered, "A mere mortal dares to raise a blade against a god?"
I smiled. "You're right. This strike of mine doesn't slay gods..."
"It just sends you straight to hell."
