Chapter 1661: The Corpse and the True Blood

Just as Han Li returned to Cloud City and swaggered through the city gates,

Far away, countless miles beyond, in a damp and frigid swamp within the Demon Mountain Range, a burly, dark-skinned, and hideous man clad in a black robe sat cross-legged on an unusually emerald-green stone, meditating with his eyes closed.

With each breath he took, the faint black demonic energy in the vicinity swirled around him as if imbued with sentience.

The ugly man was clearly cultivating some profound technique, utterly absorbed in his practice.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the man took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and inhaled all the swirling demonic energy around him into his belly. Then, with a satisfied expression, he opened his eyes.

But as his gaze swept casually around, his expression froze in the next instant.

For just a few feet away from him, a black-haired woman in a snow-white gown, her feet bare, was smiling at him.

Though she might not have been a peerless beauty—her mouth even slightly too large—her starry black eyes, jade-carved nose, and snow-white skin gave her an elegance far surpassing those so-called “immortal maidens” of the mortal world.

“Great Sacred Ancestor! Black Crocodile pays his respects!” The ugly man, recognizing the woman at once, paled in shock and immediately rolled off the stone, prostrating himself before her.

This man was none other than the Black Abyss Crocodile, who had recently advanced to the Sacred Stage.

Though he had pursued and slain the old man surnamed Yan that day, he had failed to capture the Spirit Mushroom Immortal and thus returned empty-handed.

Not long after, he received news that the Giant Toad had been killed by Han Li instead. Stunned, the demon could only leave in dejection.

Later, he sought out this place to stabilize his newly advanced and still-unsteady cultivation.

Yet, to his utter astonishment, within just a month, the white-robed woman—whom he had assumed would remain in deep slumber—had sought him out.

Given the unfathomable power of a Sacred Ancestor, she could obliterate him with a mere flick of her hand. The demon’s heart pounded with fear, unsure whether this encounter boded well or ill.

“Rise. Hmm, you truly have advanced to the Sacred Stage. Not bad—it seems Sister Ming Luo didn’t waste all those spiritual medicines on you back then. Unless you were utterly hopeless, reaching the Sacred Stage was only a matter of time. It seems the Evil Dragon’s true blood within you has also awakened,” the woman said with a light laugh.

“You knew about this, Great One?” The ugly man stiffened, then forced a bitter smile.

“Of course. Otherwise, even if Sister Ming Luo doted on you, she wouldn’t have fed you so many spiritual medicines. The Evil Dragon possesses the most demonic nature among all true spirit bloodlines. A fully matured and awakened Evil Dragon could even devour extraterrestrial demons and contend with Demon Monarchs without faltering. Though you’ve only inherited a trace of its bloodline, your abilities should now rival those of a mid-Sacred Stage cultivator. Even if my three subordinates fought you one-on-one, they’d likely gain no advantage,” the woman remarked meaningfully.

“You flatter me too much, Great Sacred Ancestor. How could I possibly compare to Blood Arm, Iron Wing, and the others?” The ugly man humbly protested.

“Sister Ming Luo vanished without a trace during the Sacred Realm’s great war. As her sworn sister, I’ll take you under my wing now that you’ve advanced. I’m preparing to leave for a time—make your own preparations,” the white-robed woman said, shifting the topic to her true purpose.

“You’re leaving the Demon Mountain Range?” The man was startled.

“Indeed. What, you don’t wish to follow me?”

“To serve by Lady Baihua’s side is a blessing I could never have dreamed of in countless lifetimes. I’m ready to depart at your command!” The woman’s calm question sent the ugly man into a cold sweat, and he hastily explained.

“Good. Then there’s no need to pack—come with me now.” The woman seemed amused by his reaction, a hint of laughter in her eyes.

“As you command! I’ve always been alone and have nothing to gather.” The man bowed obsequiously.

With a light chuckle, the woman flicked her sleeve. A burst of pink light unfurled, filling the air with an intoxicating fragrance and a dazzling radiance that enveloped both her and the man.

When the light faded, the swamp was empty—no trace of them remained.

The white-robed woman had employed a grand teleportation technique, whisking herself and the man away.

—

Back in Cloud City’s Yunmeng Mountain, Han Li returned to his cave abode and first inspected all the restrictions, ensuring no intruders had breached them. Satisfied, he collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Though his expedition to the Demon Mountain Range had been brief, its perils had left him both spiritually and physically drained, necessitating rest.

He slept for two full days and nights.

When he awoke, he felt refreshed, his vigor fully restored.

Without delay, he left his bedroom and headed straight for his secret chamber.

His journey to the Demon Mountain Range had yielded many gains, and he needed to sort through them carefully.

Soon, he stood in a spacious chamber dozens of feet wide. With a flick of his sleeve, the stone door swung shut, and layers of azure light shimmered across the walls, sealing the room tightly.

Once secure, Han Li sat cross-legged on a cushion in the center, resting his chin on one hand in contemplation.

After a moment, his wrist flicked, and a black streak shot out, hovering mid-air—his storage bracelet.

He pointed at it, and a radiant glow unfurled, revealing a dark, massive object that thudded heavily to the ground.

It was the desiccated, mummy-like corpse of the Sacred Stage Demon Ape, its dantian pierced by a gaping hole, conspicuously bloodless.

Han Li gazed at the several-yard-long corpse with satisfaction.

Though the demon core had been extracted and most of its essence drained, the ape’s body remained incredibly resilient. Its sinews and bones were rare materials invaluable for artifact forging.

But Han Li hadn’t taken the corpse for crafting—he sought the trace of Mountain Giant Ape true blood within it.

Given its withered state, he wasn’t certain he could extract the blood, but he would try his utmost.

For most, extracting true spirit blood would be a headache, but Han Li, possessing the Spirit Subduing Art, faced no such difficulty.

As long as the blood belonged to one of the twelve transformations in the art, he could forcibly refine it from the bodies of spirit beasts carrying such lineages.

The quantity and purity of the extracted blood depended on the beast’s inherited lineage and strength. Even a faint inherited trace could grow denser and purer through cultivation.

Of the true spirit bloods he’d obtained, the Kunpeng blood from the Sky Peng Clan was the purest, while the Five-Colored Peacock’s was the most abundant. The least were the True Dragon and Heavenly Phoenix bloods—mere traces acquired from human spirit lineage families, their former hosts only at the Nascent Soul stage, rendering them impure.

Though the True Dragon and Heavenly Phoenix ranked far above the others among true spirits, Han Li’s transformations into them paled in power compared to the Kunpeng and Five-Colored Peacock forms. Moreover, the insights he’d gleaned from the deceased Sky Peng elder’s divine sense focused more on avian transformations.

Thus, Han Li rarely used the dragon or phoenix forms, favoring the Kunpeng and peacock in battle.

Now, the Mountain Giant Ape before him was a genuine mid-Deity Transformation entity. No matter how thin its inherited bloodline had once been, its cultivation ensured both purity and quantity. This filled Han Li with anticipation.

Of course, this all hinged on the corpse still containing the true spirit blood.

Closing his eyes, Han Li began chanting incantations, his fingers flicking rapidly as multicolored spell sigils shot into the corpse.

The ape’s body soon glowed with radiant light, adorned with floating runes of varying sizes.

As the chanting grew louder, the corpse was entirely enveloped in a dazzling, multicolored shroud.

“Rise!”

Han Li’s eyes snapped open, gleaming with intensity.

The corpse, bathed in light, slowly levitated.

Then, something bizarre occurred.

The radiant shroud constricted violently, as if infused with immense force, compressing the ape’s body with audible cracks until it shrank from over ten feet to a mere three or four feet—a dwarfed mockery of its former self.

Han Li smirked, pleased. But then, he suddenly slapped the crown of his head.

A golden and azure glow erupted as a chubby, three-inch-tall infantile figure emerged—his Nascent Soul.

The moment it appeared, its eyes locked onto the floating corpse. With a grin, it spat a thin stream of azure flame, which shot straight toward the shrunken ape.