The old man’s action seemed to be a signal. The other Nascent Soul cultivators still engaged in battle suddenly unleashed various unimaginable secret techniques—some vanished in a flash of white light, others spat out essence blood to transform into eerie crimson radiance and flee. Each of them would rather suffer severe damage to their vitality than desperately break free from their opponents and escape.
“Hmph!” A bone-chilling snort echoed from mid-air. The Golden Flood Dragon King’s face twisted into a savage expression as he swung his arm, and with a thunderous crack, a streak of golden-silver light shot forth.
The demon had actually hurled his golden spear directly at the lean old man with full force.
The strange light vanished the moment it was released, disappearing into the void without a trace.
“Not good!”
The lean old man in the distance had been closely monitoring the Golden Flood Dragon King’s every move. Seeing this, his heart trembled, and he abruptly threw the green mirror in his hand behind him.
A brilliant green light erupted, transforming into a hazy full moon several zhang in size, engulfing the old man’s figure entirely.
Almost simultaneously with the formation of the green moon, a golden spear, now enlarged to over ten zhang, materialized right in front of him. With a flash of silver lightning, it struck the center of the green moon with a thunderous boom.
The surface of the green moon shattered like a mirror, and the colossal spear plunged into it, dispersing the moon in a single blow.
“Ah!” Witnessing this, the lean old man was horrified. A purple glow flickered around him as he attempted to activate some secret technique to escape.
But in that instant, the golden spear, now reduced to half its size, shot out from the remnants of the moon and, with a flash, eerily pierced the purple light.
A deafening “Bang!” resounded.
The embroidered handkerchief, an ancient treasure of unknown grade, managed to block the attack with its purple radiance. However, even so, the lean old man was sent flying several zhang away as if struck by lightning, completely unable to control his body.
The Golden Flood Dragon King in mid-air took a step forward, his figure crossing over ten zhang in an inconceivable manner. With just a few flickers, he instantly caught up to the lean old man and reached out to grab him without a word.
His fingers gleamed like pure gold.
The lean old man had barely recovered from the blow when he saw the Golden Flood Dragon King’s move. His face drained of color, and in desperation, he spat out a green streak from his mouth—a fist-sized emerald orb.
“Clang!” The golden claw unceremoniously seized the orb, but the collision produced a metallic clang. The green orb suddenly expanded violently, as if trying to break free.
A cold glint flashed in the Golden Flood Dragon King’s eyes as his fingers sprouted claws several inches long, and golden scales the size of copper coins appeared on the back of his hand.
With a muffled “Pop!”, the demon crushed the orb barehanded.
After a blinding green flash, the golden claw remained unscathed.
“Dragon Transformation Art!”
The lean old man cried out in shock as the orb was destroyed, simultaneously spitting out a mouthful of essence blood due to the mental connection. However, this delay allowed the purple light to envelop him once more, and he shot away, putting another ten zhang between himself and the Golden Flood Dragon King.
This time, the Golden Flood Dragon King did not pursue. Instead, his face darkened beneath his armor, and he slowly threw a punch toward the distant purple light.
Above the purple light, a golden fist several zhang in size materialized eerily and struck downward like lightning.
With a thunderous “Boom!”, the lean old man was sent flying diagonally downward, crashing into a stone peak like a meteor and piercing through a pavilion, leaving a several-zhang-wide hole before being buried under rubble.
A cold smile curled on the Golden Flood Dragon King’s lips as he moved, appearing at the edge of the hole in the pavilion in the next instant, peering inside.
His arm rose, his palm gleaming gold, ready to deliver the final blow to the lean old man.
But at that very moment, his expression changed. His arm abruptly shifted direction, reaching toward a spot in front of the pavilion’s entrance as he roared, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
Five golden claw streaks shot out and vanished into the ground.
Several “Thud!” sounds later, five deep, black trenches several zhang long appeared in front of the pavilion, but there was no sign of anyone nearby.
Seeing this, the Golden Flood Dragon King’s eyes flickered with suspicion.
Just moments ago, he had felt an inexplicable chill, a primal fear that made him attack without hesitation.
He hadn’t actually detected anything but was driven by the innate intuition of a spiritual beast, prompting this reflexive action.
This instinct for danger had saved his life several times over countless years of cultivation.
But now, with his attack missing, he hesitated, unsure if it had been a momentary illusion.
After all, such false alarms had happened before.
Yet the intensity of that chill, as if something extremely dangerous had been watching him, still left him unsettled.
As he pondered whether to expand his search, the rubble at the bottom of the pavilion’s hole shifted slightly before settling again.
This faint sound immediately drew the Golden Flood Dragon King’s attention. His gaze swept over the pile of debris, and a hint of killing intent surfaced.
He reached out with one hand.
With a thunderous roar, the golden spear reappeared, wrapped in lightning.
Without a word, the demon grabbed the spear and swung it downward fiercely.
Amidst flashes of silver arcs, the spear transformed into a dazzling streak of light, vanishing mid-flight before reappearing embedded in the ground over twenty zhang away from the pavilion.
“Boom!” The spear disappeared into the earth.
A muffled groan followed as the ground shattered, sending rubble flying in all directions. A purple light burst forth from the debris—it was the lean old man.
But now, the old man was pale, blood trickling from his lips, the purple glow around him flickering weakly, on the verge of collapse. Despite its miraculous properties, the purple light could no longer withstand the Golden Flood Dragon King’s relentless assaults.
Once forced out, the old man immediately fled in panic toward the edge of the stone peak.
The Golden Flood Dragon King’s smirk deepened as he reached out again, summoning the golden spear from the void.
With another swing of his arm, the spear shot toward the old man, whose flight had slowed considerably. Though the old man summoned a shield and an iron ruler, they were useless against the spear’s speed.
Two loud explosions later, the treasures were shattered, and the spear continued unimpeded.
Despite his desperate dodging, the old man couldn’t evade the spear’s trajectory.
The spear pierced the thinning purple light and flashed through his chest.
The mid-Nascent Soul cultivator let out a blood-curdling scream as he plummeted to the ground, motionless. A charred hole the size of a bowl marked his chest, surrounded by flickering silver arcs and the faint smell of burning.
“Hmph! A mere mid-Nascent Soul cultivator thinking he can escape from me? A pipe dream!” The Golden Flood Dragon King recalled the golden spear and spoke coldly.
With a flick of his wrist, several nails shot out, expanding in the wind into foot-long golden spikes that pinned the old man’s limbs and neck to the ground.
Runes flared on the spikes, and golden chains materialized, sealing the old man in place, preventing his Nascent Soul from escaping.
Satisfied, the Golden Flood Dragon King reached out, snatching the old man’s storage pouch. A quick scan with his spiritual sense darkened his expression.
He raised his head menacingly, scanning the sky.
In just a short time, the other fleeing Nascent Soul cultivators had met varied fates—two were recaptured by their original pursuers, while a gray-robed elder holding a gourd and a blood mist had escaped, now mere specks in the distance.
However, the gray-robed elder was being chased by newly arrived demonic cultivators, while the blood mist had outdistanced its pursuers, its speed far surpassing theirs.
The Golden Flood Dragon King’s lips twitched as he observed the blood mist. After a brief hesitation, he transformed into a golden streak and gave chase.
Watching the golden light recede, Han Li, standing by the pavilion’s entrance, exhaled softly.
Earlier, when the Golden Flood Dragon King had sent the lean old man crashing into the pavilion, Han Li had considered intervening to search the old man for the top-grade spirit stone.
But he ultimately deemed it too risky and restrained himself.
Unexpectedly, the Golden Flood Dragon King’s spiritual sense was so acute that even Han Li’s momentary distraction had alerted him, prompting an attack on his position.
Fortunately, Han Li’s movement technique was now incredibly refined. With a silent shift, he relocated to the other side of the pavilion’s entrance, evading the attack.
From the Golden Flood Dragon King’s reaction, it was clear the old man’s storage pouch didn’t contain the top-grade spirit stone, nor was it hidden on his person.
After all, such a spiritually potent item would be easily detectable if not stored properly.
Han Li ignored the fallen old man, turning his gaze skyward.
Below the blue demonic mist, only one unknown eighth-grade demonic cultivator remained, hovering motionless—likely left behind by the Golden Flood Dragon King to monitor the stone peak.
The demon had a pale blue face, fierce features, and blue scales covering its arms and legs, exuding a menacing aura.
Suddenly, the demon turned its head, staring intently in one direction.
Following its gaze, Han Li saw a yellow streak of light approaching, carrying what appeared to be a demon holding something.
Han Li’s eyes flashed with blue light as he activated his Brightsight Spirit Eyes, clearly discerning the demon within the yellow light.
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