Time passed bit by bit, and the slight tremors in the hall never ceased.
Clearly, the battle outside remained extraordinarily fierce, with occasional earth-shattering roars piercing through the outer restrictions and reverberating endlessly in the hall.
Yet, neither Han Li nor the green-robed guards showed the slightest reaction, all keeping their heads bowed and eyes lowered.
After a full three hours, the tremors in the hall finally came to an abrupt halt. However, waves of terrifying energy fluctuations surged forth amidst the explosions.
These fluctuations were not something ordinary cultivators or low-level demonic beasts could produce—high-tier beings from both sides had already entered the fray.
Judging by the density of the fluctuations and the explosions resounding across the battlefield, it seemed the demonic race had thrown all their elite forces into the fight at once. Otherwise, the battle would not have escalated to such intensity.
Han Li silently pondered this, yet his expression remained unchanged as he stood motionless within the formation.
Suddenly, a piercing shriek tore through the outer restrictions and directly entered the hall, causing Han Li’s ears to sting faintly.
*”Not good!”*
Han Li inwardly exclaimed. Without hesitation, he flicked his sleeve, releasing a surge of gray mist that transformed into a shimmering barrier enveloping the entire hall. His eyes then flashed as he turned his gaze toward the thirty-six green-robed male cultivators.
These cultivators were now clutching their heads in agony, their ears bleeding slightly.
Han Li frowned and let out a cold snort.
Though the sound seemed icy, to the cultivators, it was like a soothing balm, instantly alleviating most of their pain. They quickly resumed their meditative postures and began regulating their breathing.
After the time it took to finish a meal, the cultivators finally suppressed their discomfort, their complexions mostly restored.
“Many thanks for your intervention, Senior!” The leading cultivator bowed deeply, his face filled with gratitude.
“It’s nothing. As long as I’m here, I won’t let you suffer harm. But for a mere sound to possess such power—it seems a Demon Venerable has joined the battle. Your time here won’t last much longer. Focus on recovering your energy.” Han Li spoke indifferently.
“Yes! We will restore our energy as quickly as possible and ensure we do not hinder you, Senior.” The male cultivator shuddered inwardly before hastily closing his eyes to resume his cultivation.
Han Li, lost in thought for a moment, then extended his spiritual sense beyond the restrictions to survey the battlefield.
Near the city walls, the Four Heavenly River Treasures were nowhere to be seen. As for the once countless demonic beast army, nine-tenths had vanished, leaving only mid-to-high-tier beasts, many of which were severely wounded.
The super demonic beasts had been nearly wiped out—likely by some formidable treasures deployed by the human and demon races—with only seven or eight remaining on the battlefield, their auras drastically weakened and barely functional.
Beneath the towering walls of Tianyuan City, a dense formation of armored demonic soldiers had taken their place, numbering around seven to eight million. Strangely, only those at the Nascent Soul stage or above could fly, while the rest were forced to charge forward on foot.
In a heavily guarded secret location within Tianyuan City, a massive super-formation composed of thousands of smaller arrays had been activated. An invisible restriction emanated from it, enveloping the city and its surrounding regions.
This was an enormous anti-flight restriction, but unlike ordinary ones, it only affected the demonic race. Humans and demons, regardless of cultivation level, could still fly freely.
Despite this disadvantage, the demonic forces—vastly outnumbering the city’s defenders in both numbers and strength—continued their relentless assault, swarming the walls and engaging in chaotic combat.
The once-mystical protective barrier of Tianyuan City had long since shattered, likely destroyed by the demonic forces at some point.
However, the true deciding factor of the battle lay not with the ordinary demonic soldiers or the city’s defenders, but in the intense clashes between high-tier beings above the city walls.
Groups of cultivators at the Deity Transformation stage and above had formed dozens of battle formations, clashing fiercely in the skies.
Dark demonic clouds, roaring light, dazzling sword beams, and other supernatural phenomena collided incessantly, transforming into showers of radiance that lit up the heavens. The thunderous explosions never ceased.
Among these, several battle formations stood out the most.
In one, a swirling vortex of black demonic clouds and deep-blue liquid spanned over a hundred acres, its interior filled with thunder as a figure wreathed in blue lightning clashed with a pitch-black shadow.
Nearby, a vast gray curtain obscured a thousand-zhang stretch of sky. Within it, a towering demonic figure spewed gusts of wind that transformed into massive blades, hurtling toward an elderly man opposite him.
The old man wielded two enormous feathered fans, unleashing torrents of red and blue light that clashed with the demonic winds, manifesting as surging waves of fire and water—holding his ground without faltering.
In another battle, a black-robed man raised a crimson drum with one hand while striking it rhythmically with the other, unleashing rippling waves of faint-red sound. Opposing him was a colossal demonic bird with the head of a beautiful woman, its emerald-green body sporting four wings. It shrieked piercingly, matching the sound waves without yielding.
Within several miles of these two, no other beings—human, demon, or otherwise—dared to approach, lest they be caught in the devastating crossfire.
The earlier shriek that had reached Han Li’s pavilion had been an uncontrolled fragment of the demonic bird’s sonic attack. Fortunately, most of its power had been concentrated, sparing the hall from utter destruction.
Han Li felt a flicker of surprise but, finding no trace of the Blood Light Saint Ancestor’s intervention, withdrew his spiritual sense.
His task was solely to deal with the Blood Light Saint Ancestor’s avatar. Since Tianyuan City was not at a disadvantage, there was no need for him to act yet.
As the battle raged on, the demonic Venerables and the human-demon elders escalated their clashes.
The demonic Venerables outnumbered Tianyuan City’s Body Integration cultivators significantly. When seven or eight more demonic Venerables surged forth from the demonic mist, the humans responded not with Body Integration experts but with teams of oddly dressed cultivators clad in multicolored robes.
These cultivators, all at the Void Refinement stage, exuded formidable auras.
The demonic Venerables sneered, preparing to annihilate these seemingly feeble opponents.
But then, some of the cultivators swallowed pills, their bodies swelling grotesquely—some sprouting fur, others baring fangs—as they underwent partial demonic transformations, their power skyrocketing.
The pills were clearly potent elixirs that unlocked latent potential.
Meanwhile, the remaining cultivators unleashed pitch-black rings, summoning hordes of towering purple-armored puppets with pale faces and glowing green eyes.
These puppets, wielding razor-sharp black claws, were rare corpse-type constructs.
The moment they appeared, they lunged at the demonic Venerables, their movements stirring eerie winds.
The Venerables laughed coldly, effortlessly smashing the puppets apart with giant demonic palms or slicing them in half with black beams.
Yet, to their shock, the shattered puppets quickly reassembled, their bodies reforming amidst swirling black mist before charging again.
“Undying bodies? No—there’s something else at play!” one Venerable exclaimed.
Simultaneously, in a stone tower within Tianyuan City, hundreds of black-robed cultivators sat expressionlessly, manipulating foot-long wooden effigies covered in pale-gray runes and shrouded in dark mist.
As the Venerables hesitated, the remaining human cultivators stomped their feet, vanishing from sight atop glowing teleportation arrays.
They reappeared near the Venerables, brandishing multicolored banners that unleashed billowing clouds of five-colored mist, trapping the demonic beings within.
The mist churned with shifting silver runes, its depths echoing with furious roars as the Venerables struggled in vain to break free.
Meanwhile, the semi-demonic cultivators, under their leader’s command, affixed gold-and-silver talismans to their bodies, blurring before transforming into gusts of demonic wind that plunged into the mist.
The clashes within intensified, the cultivators’ auras clashing evenly with the Venerables’, neither side yielding an inch.
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