The Rong tribesman controlling the banner below was shocked and instinctively slapped his own head. The coarse green hair on his body suddenly turned into streaks of green light that shot into the sky.
However, the descending silver ruler flickered unpredictably, effortlessly dodging the green light and smashing squarely onto the Rong tribesman’s skull.
The protective spiritual light around the tribesman seemed utterly ineffective against the silver ruler. Without any resistance, the massive silver ruler pierced through, shattering his head like a watermelon, sending blood splattering in all directions.
The headless corpse swayed before tumbling off the flying chariot.
With a *puff*, a green shadow burst from the body, revealing a tiny, emerald-green figure—its face twisted in terror—as it fled toward another Rong tribesman wielding a bronze mirror, screaming, “Brother Liao, save me!”
But before the plea could fully escape its lips, a *boom* resounded as a ruler shadow teleported from above, obliterating the tiny figure into nothingness.
Without pause, the giant silver ruler split into three identical shadows, sweeping toward the remaining three Rong tribesmen.
The ruler shadows flickered in and out, accompanied by deafening thunderclaps, their momentum terrifying.
Seeing their comrade’s body destroyed, the remaining three tribesmen reacted with fury and panic, hastily deploying their defenses. A gray veil and a black shield materialized before them.
Yet, when two of the ruler shadows struck, they merely erupted in silver light before vanishing—mere illusions.
“Not good!” the two tribesmen thought simultaneously.
But it was too late. The tribesman wielding the bronze mirror flung out a wheel-like treasure to block the final ruler shadow.
The shadow flickered before the wheel and disappeared—only for half of the silver ruler to emerge from the void mere inches from the tribesman’s face, striking with ghostly precision.
Lightning crackled as countless silver arcs erupted from the ruler.
A deafening explosion followed, reducing the tribesman to ashes before his Nascent Soul could even attempt escape.
The remaining two Rong tribesmen paled at the sight. As the silver ruler circled and unleashed a dozen more shadows, one of them roared, “Retreat! This man’s power is beyond us!”
With a stomp on the flying chariot, the diamond-shaped vehicle hummed and transformed into a streak of azure light, darting backward and escaping the ruler shadows’ range in a few blinks.
The other tribesman, snapping to his senses, hastily formed a hand seal and struck the chariot’s relief.
The chariot trembled as its slender wings flapped, its surface glowing with five-colored runes, preparing to flee entirely.
But then, a calm voice echoed from above:
“Thinking of leaving now? Isn’t it a bit late?”
As the words fell, a *boom* resounded—a massive black mountain, over a hundred zhang tall, materialized above the chariot.
Standing motionless atop the peak was none other than Han Li!
Unbeknownst to them, he had already activated the Magnetic Divine Mountain, crossing the void to intercept them.
The two tribesmen below felt their hearts sink. One of them, his face twisting in fury, rubbed his hands together, igniting a layer of eerie green flames that coiled into a ten-zhang-long fire dragon, lunging upward.
The other roared, his body swelling in size, his arms thickening, his fingers sharpening as he clawed at the sky.
The air screamed as countless claw shadows surged upward.
Neither harbored illusions of killing Han Li—they merely hoped to delay him long enough for their chariot to escape.
Having witnessed Han Li slay two of their kin in moments, they had no intention of fighting, only fleeing.
Han Li narrowed his eyes and stomped on the mountain. The Magnetic Divine Mountain pulsed with gray light before plummeting downward, its surface flashing with silver runes as it vanished into the void.
The fire dragon and claw shadows struck empty air.
The two tribesmen barely had time to react before the black mountain reappeared directly above them, crushing down mercilessly.
“Not good!” Though more skilled than their fallen comrades, they barely managed to leap from the chariot, transforming into streaks of light fleeing in opposite directions.
The diamond chariot, however, bore the full brunt of the mountain’s weight, exploding into five-colored spiritual light and vanishing from existence.
Yet, a glance at the mountain’s peak would reveal Han Li had already disappeared.
A moment later, one fleeing tribesman heard thunder above. Panicked, he raised a black shield, summoning a dark cloud, while green flames enveloped him in a protective dome.
But a cold snort reached his ears, followed by a *shhh* as hundreds of azure sword lights rained down from a winged figure that had just appeared.
The azure radiance flashed—the dark cloud and fire dome were shredded instantly. The sword lights condensed into countless green threads, weaving into a net that closed around him.
A scream erupted as the tribesman frantically deployed more defensive treasures. But the Emerald Swarm Sword’s threads were too sharp—in a single flash, his body, Nascent Soul, and treasures were diced into fragments.
Hearing the scream, the last tribesman shuddered but redoubled his speed, refusing to look back.
Yet after fleeing a few hundred zhang, space rippled ahead as a golden figure emerged, blocking his path.
The tribesman’s face twisted, but he gritted his teeth and accelerated, one hand gripping a black blade, the other swelling grotesquely.
The blade blurred, unleashing a chain of black slashes, while his enlarged hand summoned a massive green claw above the golden figure, fingers wreathed in black mist.
Just then, the indistinct golden figure shimmered with purple runes before solidifying into a three-headed, six-armed entity—the Sacred Buddha Body.
Unbeknownst to the tribesman, Han Li had split his efforts: while chasing one with his Wind Thunder Wings, he had dispatched his Second Nascent Soul and the golden body to intercept the other.
As the black slashes arrived and the green claw descended, the golden body didn’t evade. Instead, one of its faces twisted savagely as two arms brandished golden blades, meeting the slashes head-on.
Two more arms hurled a barrage of golden fists at the claw, while the remaining pair clasped together before parting, conjuring a swirling golden orb.
The golden body’s two heads chanted overlapping incantations as the orb spun faster, forming a vortex—mysterious and foreboding.
The black slashes clashed with the golden blades in a dazzling explosion, while the green claw shattered under the golden fists.
Seizing the momentary distraction, the tribesman’s fleeing light blurred, vanishing into the void.
But a dozen zhang behind the golden body, space rippled as he reappeared, his radiance flaring for another desperate escape.
Then, one of the golden body’s heads murmured, “Vortex Golden Light.”
The golden vortex vanished from its hands—only to reappear inches behind the tribesman, expanding to a zhang in size.
Thunder roared within, mingled with faint Buddhist chants.
The fleeing tribesman froze mid-flight, his escape light immobilized.
With a startled cry, he was yanked backward by an irresistible force, sucked into the vortex like an arrow.
A final, agonized scream was cut short by a cataclysmic explosion. The vortex trembled slightly but remained intact.
The golden body turned, ceasing its chant. One hand formed a seal while the other pointed at the vortex, which shrank rapidly before vanishing with a muffled *pop*.
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