This person was naturally Han Li, who had quietly circled behind the woman using the Lightning Evasion Technique.
He had used the humanoid puppet to divert Bai Mengxin’s attention while he stealthily approached and struck.
Bai Mengxin had long been alert to the movements nearby. The moment Han Li’s figure appeared, she immediately sensed it and, without turning her head, reflexively reached back with a void-grasping motion.
A massive, crystalline hand instantly materialized outside the giant ice block, reaching directly for Han Li’s head.
She didn’t expect this attack to truly defeat him but merely hoped to momentarily delay his advance.
However, Han Li didn’t even glance at the descending hand. With an impassive flick of his sleeve, a golden streak shot forth, slicing the hand cleanly in two with a single flash.
Without the slightest pause, Han Li surged forward to the giant ice block, his body wreathed in purple flames that flared violently.
An astonishing sight unfolded—Han Li’s figure barely hesitated before seemingly turning intangible, effortlessly seeping into the ice. After a few flickers, he emerged eerily on the other side, standing before Bai Mengxin and Frost Li the Transcendent.
In his wake, a perfectly round ice tunnel, several feet in diameter, was left behind.
Though the Violet Extreme Flame had yet to be refined, its power far surpassed Bai Mengxin’s cold flames. Under Han Li’s full exertion, it had allowed him to ghostly bypass her defenses.
Before him now was the circular silver net.
Bai Mengxin had already turned around, her face paling in shock. With a sharp cry, she formed a hand seal and spat out the word, “Retract!”
The net blazed with light as its silver threads contracted inward, sealing all gaps and transforming into a massive, gleaming silver sphere before Han Li.
Han Li paused briefly before sneering. A three-colored radiance erupted from his hand as the feather fan in his grip spun rapidly, expanding to a foot in length before he lightly flicked it toward the silver sphere.
With a *whoosh*, a torrent of three-colored flames surged forth, interwoven with gold, silver, and crimson runes, crashing directly into the sphere.
The silver sphere, an extraordinary treasure in its own right, emitted a resonant hum as it clashed with the flames, its dazzling silver light momentarily holding the three-colored inferno at bay.
Though it quickly showed signs of strain, it didn’t immediately dissolve.
Han Li frowned briefly before relaxing.
The previous strike had only channeled a fraction of his spiritual power, barely tapping into the Three Flames Fan’s full might. While the result was unexpected, it hardly fazed him.
Almost simultaneously, Han Li raised a jade vial to his lips, swallowing a drop of Ten-Thousand-Year Spirit Nectar without hesitation.
No longer conserving energy, he poured vast amounts of spiritual power into the fan.
The three-colored feather fan trembled, releasing a melodious chime as a fiery bird of the same hues emerged from the flames, soaring toward the silver sphere.
Meanwhile, Han Li’s Wind Thunder Wings unfurled behind him, and with a thunderous crackle, he vanished from sight just as the three-colored radiance erupted.
An instant later, a silver arc appeared over thirty yards away, revealing Han Li’s figure.
He glanced back to see the giant ice block entirely engulfed by the three-colored glow, rapidly melting away. The silver sphere, caught at the epicenter, disintegrated almost instantly.
Yet Han Li’s expression remained grim, his pupils contracting as his grip on the fan tightened.
Where the sphere had vanished, a massive blue ice flood dragon now coiled, its front half covered in translucent scales, its rear half a viscous, liquid-like blue mass, its tail rooted in a small cauldron—another Qianlan Cauldron, floating before Frost Li the Transcendent.
The flood dragon shielded Bai Mengxin and Frost Li within its coils. Though its body melted rapidly under the three-colored glow, the radiance soon dissipated, leaving the two unharmed.
Frost Li the Transcendent, leveraging the flood dragon’s extreme cold, had emerged unscathed.
“So this is that fire-attribute spirit fan? A worthy imitation treasure indeed—its power surpasses even my Qianlan Cauldron,” Frost Li remarked coolly, his hands still forming seals. Suddenly, he exhaled a plume of deep-blue flame that coated the flood dragon.
The azure flames swirled along its body, and with a resonant cry, the dragon’s damaged form instantly regenerated, its emerald eyes locking onto Han Li with malice.
Han Li’s lips curled into a strange expression—part mockery, part cold amusement.
A chill ran down Frost Li’s spine. Before he could react, a faint green shadow materialized behind him, lunging forward.
One silver-glowing hand stabbed like a blade toward his back, while the other tossed out a small silver shield that unfurled into a curtain, ensnaring Bai Mengxin.
The attack was soundless, imperceptible to ordinary cultivators—Han Li’s humanoid puppet, having exploited the chaos of the fiery barrage to slip close undetected.
Bai Mengxin, oblivious to the ambush, only realized her predicament when the silver curtain enveloped her.
Panicked, she conjured a layer of white ice flames, transforming them into fist-sized fireballs that bombarded the curtain.
Deafening explosions echoed within the barrier, but the silver curtain alternated between thickness and mirror-like smoothness, deflecting or absorbing every strike.
She was trapped.
Frost Li, however, was no ordinary cultivator—his senses, honed near the threshold of Deity Transformation, detected the puppet the moment it appeared.
Startled, he had no time to command the flood dragon. Instead, golden armor materialized over his body, ancient in design and radiant with spiritual light. He twisted aside, attempting to evade.
But the puppet, operating at full power under Han Li’s command, mirrored his movements flawlessly. Frost Li, hindered by his ongoing spellcasting, was a fraction slower.
A dull *thud* echoed as the silver hand struck his shoulder, sparks flying as silver and gold clashed.
The puppet’s hands, forged from adamantine silver and rare materials, rivaled flying swords in sharpness. Yet the golden armor merely rippled like water, repelling the blow—though the impact still sent Frost Li staggering.
Relieved, Frost Li began redirecting his spiritual power, preparing to halt his incomplete spell to free up energy for counterattacks.
But as he adjusted his seals, the puppet’s other hand lashed out, striking his opposite shoulder to similar effect.
Baffled, Frost Li had no time to ponder before the puppet’s hands morphed into razor-sharp silver hooks, clamping onto his shoulders.
Though the golden armor held, his mobility was crippled.
Simultaneously, a black dagger materialized above his head, plunging toward his skull with terrifying speed.
Trapped, Frost Li could only tilt his head back, spewing a blood-red beam—a desperate expenditure of vital essence—to intercept the blade.
The collision sent shockwaves of crimson and black energy, momentarily halting the dagger’s descent.
His golden armor flickered, on the verge of dispersing to free him.
Meanwhile, the blue flood dragon, responding to his mental command, roared and lunged at Han Li, firing a beam of blue light.
Frost Li believed that even a brief delay would allow him to activate the Profound Jade Cold Qi and turn the tide.
But then, a silver lotus bloomed beneath his feet, spinning rapidly as radiant light and Buddhist chants filled the air.
His body suddenly weighed tons, immobilized, his spiritual power slipping beyond control. The blood beam faltered, its power halved.
The black dagger shattered the weakened defense and descended unimpeded.
A scream tore from Frost Li’s throat—
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