Apart from being covered in talismans and chains, the colossal creature was surrounded by thousands of palm-sized bronze mirrors, emitting beams of hazy yellow light that formed a peculiar array, interweaving and flickering to trap the giant creature firmly within.
The entire space around the creature was layered with endless waves of restrictions, faint spiritual lights shimmering everywhere.
The creature’s massive, indistinct form remained motionless, resembling a small hill. If not for the occasional slight rise and fall on its surface, anyone would have mistaken it for an inanimate object.
In stark contrast, the adjacent space presented an entirely different scene.
Lush greenery stretched as far as the eye could see, filled with exotic flowers and rare herbs, the spiritual energy so dense it was breathtaking.
At the center of this paradise stood a magnificent palace spanning hundreds of zhang in width. From a distance, the palace appeared silent, as if devoid of life.
However, from an aerial view, one could see that the palace was built at the heart of a massive array, surrounded by eighty-one small altars, each about ten zhang tall, scattered throughout the formation.
Most astonishingly, atop each altar stood a white jade statue several zhang tall.
These statues were clad in golden armor, gripping enormous golden blades with both hands, their solemn expressions facing the palace as if they were alive.
Yet, everything was eerily silent, as if the palace and the statues had existed for countless millennia.
It was both mysterious and unsettling!
Meanwhile, at another location on Mount Kunwu, where the Purple Star Sevenfold Array had been laid, the formation was rumbling with explosions—a critical moment in breaking the array.
Seven purple beams of light shot into the sky from an endless expanse of violet mist, accompanied by low thunderclaps. Thick arcs of lightning intermittently erupted from the beams, striking various parts of the formation.
The mist had grown so dense that one could barely see their own hand, and eerie wails occasionally pierced the air, unsettling the mind.
Han Li, enveloped in golden light, calmly approached one of the beams. The violet mist around him transformed into thick, bowl-sized pythons, but as they neared him, the golden light sliced them apart, reducing them back to mist.
Yet, Han Li showed no sign of relief, for the mist immediately spawned more pythons to attack.
As for the silver-white lightning bolts descending from above, no matter how thick, he paid them no mind. With a wave of his golden-arc-covered hand, he effortlessly diverted them, rendering them harmless.
Suddenly, two faint buzzing sounds came from behind. Without turning, Han Li flicked his fingers, sending two thin golden arcs backward. Two thunderclaps later, the scent of something charred filled the air.
Glancing back, he saw two fist-sized wasps, now charred black, plummeting from the sky.
These wasps, with their striking yellow patterns and three-inch-long stingers, were fearsome to behold.
Han Li had already exterminated thirty or forty of these spirit insects in the mist. Initially, he had used his flying swords, but after discovering their corrosive green blood damaged his blades, he switched to using Divine Annihilation Lightning.
Though the wasps were numerous, they had no resistance to the lightning, perishing instantly upon contact.
Besides the wasps, crimson bats occasionally attacked him from the mist. These bats appeared ordinary except for their color, but their bodies were unnaturally tough—even his Emerald Swarm Sword, infused with Gold Essence, struggled to cut them cleanly.
Both the wasps and bats were common spirit creatures, yet they had been cultivated to such formidable levels, indicating immense effort. Now, left to guard the array without guidance, they could only unleash half their potential.
Clearly, the previous cultivators had spared no expense to delay intruders.
As Han Li neared the purple beam, now only ten zhang away, he was poised to destroy it.
But suddenly, the giant purple bamboos that had vanished upon his entry reappeared around the beam, rapidly expanding to encase him in a dense thicket.
The beam, once within reach, dissipated like smoke.
A hallucination array—Han Li smirked. Unless it was a top-tier illusion like the ancient Phantom Manifestation Art, such tricks couldn’t trap him.
Blue light flickered in his pupils, and the illusion shattered, revealing the beam in its original position.
With a flick of his sleeve, seven or eight flying swords shot out, merging midair into a massive golden blade. A brilliant flash later, a colossal sword beam struck the base of the light pillar.
A deafening explosion followed, and the beam vanished.
Instantly, the mist and bamboo illusions around him dissipated, clearing a hundred-zhang radius and exposing pristine white jade tiles on the ground.
Han Li glanced down, then looked toward the remaining mist-shrouded areas.
Only three of the seven beams remained—two had already been destroyed by others.
Instead of pursuing the remaining beams, Han Li sat cross-legged, retrieving a spirit stone to replenish his energy.
Now was the time to strategize for the emergence of the Ancient Demon.
With so many powerful cultivators, demons, and spirits gathered in the mountain, even with the Three Flames Fan and his late-Nascent Soul puppet, a single misstep could prove fatal.
As he meditated, his mind raced through possibilities.
After an indeterminate time, he retrieved a small, azure crystalline stele from his storage pouch—the same one he had found hidden in Mount Kunwu’s stone tablet.
Concealed with extreme cunning, even his formidable spiritual sense had failed to detect it. Only the innate treasure-sensing ability of the Earth Armadragon had led him to it.
The stele itself was bizarre—crafted from an unknown refined mineral, it was impossibly heavy until infused with spiritual energy, whereupon it became weightless.
But what intrigued Han Li most were the ancient inscriptions carved upon it. Though he recognized them as archaic script, they were unlike any he had encountered in texts—likely predating even the so-called “ancient times.”
He weighed the stele in his hand before sighing and storing it away.
Just then, two more beams in the distance were destroyed in quick succession. The final beam flickered and vanished on its own.
The grand formation had finally been dismantled.
As the mist and illusions dissipated, the others became visible. But then, the furious voice of Venerable Dry echoed:
“Where are the four from the Poison Sage Sect?! They knew this array and slipped through unnoticed!”
Han Li scanned the area—the four elders were indeed missing.
“Not just them—Zheng Wei is gone too!” the burly Nascent Soul cultivator snarled. “I knew he was up to something when he urged us to enter together!”
“No wonder they abandoned us,” Bai Yaoyi sighed, pointing ahead.
At the far end of the plaza, over a dozen stone staircases branched off in different directions.
“Seems they figured they could handle things alone if they avoided the others’ paths,” Fu Xing said, frowning.
“Fine by me. I prefer working alone anyway,” Venerable Dry growled, his anger cooling.
The five white shadows flitted between jade tablets, inspecting each briefly before converging and darting toward the staircase marked “Kunwu Hall.”
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