Suddenly, a brilliant blue flame erupted from the pitch-black octagonal hammer, exuding an eerie chill.
Though the true power of this flame was unknown, it was immediately clear that this was no ordinary demonic fire.
However, as soon as the hammer was ensnared by the green threads spat out by the Void Sky Cauldron, its might was utterly suppressed, leaving it suspended helplessly in midair. No matter how fiercely the blue flames burned, the green threads remained unscathed, completely impervious to the blaze.
Han Li paid no heed to the changes above him. His gaze shifted swiftly, locking onto the four streaks of black light hurtling toward him.
“Demonic Saints?”
He murmured the words almost inaudibly, a cold smirk curling his lips as he abruptly flicked his sleeve.
Without warning, several thunderclaps boomed, and four massive golden arcs, each as thick as an infant’s arm, shot from his sleeve. In a flash, they struck the four black lights just as they reached him.
With a series of deafening explosions, four blinding golden bursts erupted, instantly engulfing the black radiance. The demonic phantoms, as if meeting their natural bane, dissolved like snow under the spring sun, vanishing without a trace within the golden light.
Han Li had barely lifted a finger.
At the same moment, the green figure behind him raised a hand, summoning a small crimson bow. With a gentle pull of the other hand—
A thunderous roar erupted as countless fiery arrows blazed through the air, blanketing the sky as they shot toward the demonic creature opposite.
The spiked demon had just steadied itself when it saw the storm of arrows descending. Unfazed, it let out a roar, and the bone spikes covering its body shimmered with a faint bloody glow before erupting into a crimson barrier, encasing its form completely.
The moment the barrier formed, the dense barrage of arrows struck.
Explosions erupted across the bloody shield, crimson flames swallowing the demon whole as the deafening blasts shook the air.
Yet, within the inferno, the demon remained unharmed inside its barrier. Taking a deep breath, it swung a silver arm, attempting to part the flames.
But then—
A faint thunderclap sounded from the opposite side.
Startled, the demon realized a jade-green arrow, crackling with golden arcs, had somehow reached it unnoticed.
Though unsure of the arrow’s nature, the demon instinctively twisted aside to evade it.
But what it failed to notice was that as the arrow neared, a pitch-black crystalline dagger silently slid out of the void above its head—then descended with ghostly precision, landing squarely on the demon’s skull as it dodged.
The demon never sensed a thing.
The green figure abruptly halted its fiery barrage, the arrows vanishing midair as the relentless assault ceased.
Just as the hedgehog-like demon dodged the jade arrow, a black streak flashed around its neck—
Its triangular head tumbled to the ground.
The bloody barrier had offered no resistance.
This was no surprise. The Demon Marrow Dagger was forged from Demon Marrow Crystal, a substance condensed from millennia of pure demonic energy. How could a barrier of the same essence possibly hinder it?
To the dagger, the crimson shield might as well not have existed.
Guided by Han Li’s second Nascent Soul, the humanoid puppet needed no orders. The instant the demon fell, it blurred forward, appearing beside the corpse.
Opening its mouth, it released a black mist that swept over the remains—
A faint shadow was wrenched free: the demonic spirit that had once possessed the body.
Now barely tangible, the spirit was swiftly drawn into the puppet’s maw, absorbed by the second Nascent Soul hidden within.
Such refined demonic energy was a rare supplement for the Yin Devouring Art.
As the spirit vanished, a breeze scattered the headless corpse into ash, leaving no trace.
The puppet then returned to Han Li’s side, standing with hands clasped behind its back.
From a distance, aside from their attire, the two figures appeared identical—twin Han Lis standing shoulder to shoulder.
Meanwhile, Han Li himself idly twirled the Three Flames Fan, his gaze calm as he regarded his foe.
“Brother Six Paths, I’ve now witnessed your Six Extreme True Devil Art. Have you any other techniques to broaden my horizons? If not… it’s time I sent you on your way.” His tone was eerily composed.
Six Paths, his face ashen, stared in disbelief.
Two late-Nascent Soul demonic entities—his trump cards—had been effortlessly annihilated. It defied reason.
Worse, Han Li had wielded treasures of staggering power: the tricolored fan, the green cauldron (likely the legendary Void Sky Cauldron), and an emerald ruler—each unfathomably potent. Even his avatar technique was mystifying, capable of slaying a demon single-handedly.
How?
A mere century ago, Han Li had just reached late Nascent Soul stage. How could he possess such divine abilities and artifacts?
Though Six Paths had never met a Deity Transformation cultivator, Han Li’s prowess seemed to border on that realm.
A chill crept down his spine as Han Li’s words echoed.
With a sudden motion, he spat out a dark cloud kerchief.
It unfurled into a swirling black gale, enveloping him instantly.
A shrill whistle pierced the air as the wind surged backward, carrying him away at blinding speed.
The black gale blurred into afterimages, flickering across the sky as if teleporting—one moment here, the next dozens of feet away, leaving phantom gusts in its wake.
In mere breaths, it had crossed hundreds of feet. Any ordinary late-Nascent Soul cultivator would despair at such evasion.
But Han Li was no ordinary late-stage cultivator.
A peculiar smile touched his lips. “Fleeing? That natal treasure is quite the escape tool. In the past, this might have troubled me. But now… hmph.”
He inhaled deeply.
His Wind Thunder Wings shuddered—
Thunder boomed as arcs of azure and white lightning crackled across the feathers, coalescing into hovering orbs that swirled around him.
With a faint flap, he levitated, tilting slightly.
His eyes locked onto the distant blur of black wind.
A cold snort.
The wings snapped wide—
A gale erupted, hurling the lightning orbs together in a cataclysmic detonation.
The explosion birthed a storm of intertwined lightning, which the tempest funneled back into the wings.
Now sheathed in a crackling aura, the wings beat furiously—
Han Li vanished.
A streak of blue-white lightning zigzagged across the sky, covering dozens of feet per flash—outpacing the black wind.
Within moments, it closed the gap, trailing just ten feet behind.
Amidst the arcing electricity, Han Li glimpsed Six Paths’ terrified face through the gale.
Another wingbeat—
A thunderclap, and the lightning overtook the wind, materializing ahead.
As the radiance faded, Han Li stood blocking the path.
The black gale wavered, veering sideways—
But Han Li was faster.
Hands forming seals, his body crackled—
Muscles bulged, his frame expanding as golden light flickered across his skin before vanishing.
In an instant, he’d transformed into a towering brute—the third-layer King Kong Physique’s might.
Purple flames wreathed his hands, coalescing into a violet blade.
His wings twitched oddly—
He shot forward, body contorting unnaturally as the wings vibrated at an impossible frequency.
Space rippled.
He became a white thread—
And disappeared.
Six Paths, sensing doom, abandoned flight, pouring all his power into the gale. A crimson shield materialized before him.
But the white thread reappeared above—
Then vanished again.
This time, a scream tore through the black wind.
A severed arm, encased in purple ice, plummeted alongside the crimson shield.
The cut was seamless—not a drop of blood spilled.
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