Feng Xi glanced at the scene before him, his heart chilling to the core.
Forget Han Li attacking him again—just the dozen or so Six-Winged Frost Centipedes sprouting their second pair of wings were more than enough to overwhelm him.
Having made up his mind, Feng Xi wasted no time. He formed hand seals, and the skin on his upper body turned a vivid, blood-red hue. A sharp hissing sound erupted as countless blood threads shot from his skin, transforming into dense crimson mist that swiftly enveloped his figure.
At the same time, the wings on his back absorbed a portion of the blood mist, turning a deep scarlet.
Taking a deep breath, Feng Xi flapped his wings, preparing to activate a secret technique and flee. But just then, a melodious chant rose from beneath his feet, and an immense force abruptly seized his body.
His limbs locked in place, completely immobilized, and his spiritual power froze, slipping beyond his control.
Only then did Feng Xi realize in horror that beneath him, a silver lotus a foot in diameter had silently appeared, slowly unfurling. A seven-colored Buddhist radiance enveloped him entirely.
Panicking, he desperately tried to break free.
But the twelve snow-white centipedes, lying in wait, seized the opportunity. They spewed frigid mist and lunged forward in unison.
A blinding white haze descended, swallowing the blood mist whole. From within, Feng Xi’s agonized screams echoed.
In the distance, Han Li calmly toyed with the Eight Spirit Ruler in his hand, not even sparing a glance in Feng Xi’s direction.
Everything was under his control.
Then, from the sea of flames nearby, the Golden Flood Dragon King’s voice abruptly cut off.
Han Li’s brows twitched, and he looked up.
A deafening explosion erupted from the heart of the inferno, scattering flames in all directions. Amid the fiery tongues, something shot out at an astonishing speed.
Han Li’s expression darkened. With a thunderous crackle, he vanished from sight.
The next moment, as the fleeing object paused mid-flight, a flash of cyan-white lightning appeared above it. Han Li materialized out of thin air, gazing down impassively.
Below him was a miniature skeletal flood dragon, barely a foot long, its bones gleaming like pure gold.
Clenched in its jaws was a thumb-sized golden orb, while eerie green flames flickered in its eye sockets.
Behind it, the five demon heads burst from the flames, looking disheveled and slightly injured.
The golden skeletal flood dragon wasted no time. It transformed into a streak of golden light, darting into the void and disappearing.
Han Li snorted. A black light flashed between his brows as a third eye emerged, shooting a beam of dark radiance that vanished into the void.
A muffled explosion followed. Golden and black lights intertwined in the distance, and the skeletal flood dragon was violently ejected, tumbling uncontrollably.
Realizing the danger, the flood dragon tried to flee again, but it was too late.
A net of cyan threads materialized from thin air, wrapping tightly around the skeletal flood dragon and rendering it immobile.
Almost simultaneously, a golden beam several feet long descended from above, slicing the flood dragon cleanly in half.
A wisp of green flame fled from the remains, desperate to escape.
But Han Li was prepared. With a casual gesture, a massive cyan hand materialized, seizing the fleeing flame.
In a flash, Han Li appeared before it. He flicked his sleeve, releasing a small green vial.
The vial inverted midair, spewing a stream of black light that sucked the green flame inside.
Han Li retrieved the vial, scanning it with his divine sense before nodding in satisfaction.
The soul of a tenth-grade demon beast—a rare treasure indeed.
After storing the vial, he turned his attention to the golden orb and the skeletal remains, absorbing both without hesitation.
The orb was his primary target—the metal-attribute flood dragon core.
As for the golden skeleton, it was intriguing.
He had witnessed the Golden Flood Dragon King’s desperate ploy—detonating its flesh to break free from the fire chains and the five demons, then fleeing with its soul piloting the shrunken skeleton.
Had it escaped, it could have regenerated a new body.
But against Han Li, armed with two spirit treasures and the five demons, even a tenth-grade demon beast stood no chance.
The flood dragon’s formidable physique was useless against the Eight Spirit Ruler’s defenses, and the fire chains and soul-devouring demons sealed its fate before it could unleash its full power.
After examining the skeleton briefly, Han Li stored it and the core away.
Meanwhile, Feng Xi, immobilized by the Eight Spirit Ruler, was encased in a massive block of ice by the centipedes’ breath.
Han Li glanced at his once-dreaded foe and shook his head. With a thought, the hovering golden swords slashed through the ice, cleaving Feng Xi into pieces.
A green demon soul emerged, fleeing in panic—only to be devoured by one of the centipedes.
Though both demons were slain, Han Li claimed their storage pouches.
To his delight, Feng Xi’s pouch contained an ancient jade slip detailing cultivation techniques and, crucially, the true effects of the Dragon Scale Fruit and a method to transplant its tree—applicable to other spiritual plants as well.
From the Golden Flood Dragon King’s pouch, he obtained the “Bone Tempering Art,” a technique to refine bones like magical treasures, enhancing physical strength. Unfortunately, it required significant time—something Han Li lacked at the moment—so he stored it for later.
After recalling the demons and spirit insects, Han Li dove into the sea.
In an underwater cavern near the island, he dismantled several restrictions and found the Dragon Scale Fruit tree.
Using the materials Feng Xi had prepared for transplantation, Han Li followed the method in the jade slip, shrinking the tree and storing it.
Soon after, a cyan streak shot from the sea, vanishing into the horizon.
By the time Han Li returned to Tiannan via teleportation, over half a year had passed.
Back at Cloud Dream Mountains, he summoned Nangong Wan, his disciples, and Elder Lü Luo for a secret discussion.
After hours of deliberation, the group dispersed, their expressions grave.
Rumors spread that Han Li had obtained a secret technique to break through to the Deity Transformation stage, requiring seclusion in a special location.
He announced his intention to leave for centuries, only returning if Fallen Cloud Sect faced existential peril.
The news stirred mixed reactions—some hopeful, others anxious about Tiannan’s stability.
A year later, Han Li vanished, along with Nangong Wan, Mu Peiling, and several disciples. Only Liu Yu remained.
Fallen Cloud Sect halted its expansion, consolidating its power. Other sects, wary of Han Li’s reputation, dared not act.
Years turned to decades, then centuries. The once-revered “First Cultivator of Tiannan” faded into legend.
Over a millennium, Fallen Cloud Sect flourished, producing numerous Nascent Soul cultivators and securing its status as a superpower for ages to come…
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