The three-headed demonic flood dragon that had been circling beneath the black-robed youth earlier was now nowhere to be seen above the pond mountain.
It was unclear whether it had perished in the recent self-detonation or if the black-robed youth had swiftly retrieved it using some secret technique.
“Hmph, I never expected a mere Body Integration cultivator to escape unscathed from that explosion. It seems I underestimated you. However, everyone else here has already lost their lives, and you will be no exception. I’ll personally take yours,” the black-robed youth said, his gaze flickering toward his nearly healed wounds before turning coldly to Han Li.
“If I’m not mistaken, you expended far more energy protecting yourself than I did. And now, with your physical recovery, the demonic energy within you is likely less than a third of what it was before,” Han Li replied calmly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“So what if that’s true? Do you really think you can escape my Black Demon Dagger alone? Besides, the restrictions in this valley have been broken. The demonic energy I can draw from the outside now is incomparable to before!” The black-robed youth let out an enraged laugh and swung his massive black sword upward with a fierce slash.
A sharp whistling sound pierced the air as a hundred-zhang-long black sword light roared forth, surging toward the sky with overwhelming momentum.
Han Li’s expression shifted slightly. With a swift thought, golden light flashed behind him, and his three-headed, six-armed golden Dharma Form reappeared. His arms moved as if preparing to assume a defensive stance.
But at that moment, an exquisitely melodious woman’s voice echoed from the sky above: “After all these years, I never expected Brother Yuanyan to still be so boastful. Since I’m also on this island now, does that mean you intend to kill me as well?”
As soon as the voice faded, a flurry of pink petals materialized high above where the black sword light had surged. They swirled together, forming a massive pink flower spanning several acres, spinning gracefully in the air.
A rich floral fragrance spread as countless pink runes surged from the flower. With a flash of black light, the massive sword light was abruptly absorbed into the flower.
After a dazzling burst of pink radiance, the enormous flower shrank to a mere few zhang in size. As its petals trembled slightly, two figures—one male and one female—emerged silently from its center.
One wore pristine white robes, ethereal and refined, while the other was clad in fearsome black armor, his face grotesque.
It was none other than Sacred Ancestor Baohua and Black Crocodile!
“It’s you!”
Upon seeing the white-robed woman, Sacred Ancestor Yuanyan blurted out in shock, his composure shattered, a trace of fear flickering in his eyes.
“It seems Brother Yuanyan hasn’t forgotten me. Yet, after all these years, your cultivation hasn’t progressed much. I suppose you still haven’t managed to cultivate that spiritual herb you desired,” Sacred Ancestor Baohua remarked coolly, her crystalline eyes gleaming.
Meanwhile, Han Li’s expression shifted slightly at the sudden appearance of Baohua. After a brief moment of contemplation, he lowered his slightly raised arm.
Ever since entering the demon realm, he had vaguely sensed something monitoring their group’s movements. However, neither his spiritual sight nor his divine sense had detected anything, and neither had Long Jia Laozu or the others. He had kept his suspicions buried until now.
Seeing the white-robed woman, he finally understood.
Yuanyan could no longer spare any attention for Han Li. His eyes locked onto the white-robed woman, his face shifting between dark and pale before twisting into a vicious sneer. “Baohua, when did you arrive here? And you dare to step foot in the Sacred Realm again? I must say, I’m impressed.”
“Why wouldn’t I dare? Afraid of you and Liu Ji joining forces? I was already on this island before you arrived, watching this entire spectacle unfold,” Baohua replied, idly stroking a strand of her hair with a jade-like hand.
“So, you’re the one who lured these Spirit Realm cultivators here?” the black-robed youth asked, his eyes glinting.
“‘Lured’ is too strong a word. I merely took advantage of the situation. I never expected them to possess a pseudo-immortal puppet, nor for the Spirit Sovereign to send two split souls among them. But it seems my decision wasn’t wrong—you’ve suffered quite a bit at their hands,” Baohua said indifferently.
“Hmph! If not for the restrictions of Bitter Spirit Island, do you think a mere self-detonation could harm me? Baohua, don’t try to bluff me. That Nightmare Blood Curse you bear was personally inflicted by me. Even with your True Demon Body, you can’t possibly have recovered your full strength. At best, you’re operating at twenty or thirty percent of your peak. And even at your strongest, did you ever truly believe you could kill me?” Yuanyan retorted with a sinister sneer.
“You’re right. Not only did Liu Ji betray me, but you also ambushed me with the Nightmare Blood Curse. Most of my power is still tied up suppressing the injury. But do you really think I’d show myself here without some confidence?” Baohua replied lightly.
“Even if you have some desperate measure to fight me, don’t forget—my Nightmare Art allows me to split my soul into seven drops of blood essence. Even if you destroy my main soul now, another will soon take its place. Your efforts would be wasted,” Yuanyan growled, his face contorting with malice.
Despite his bravado, his tone betrayed deep wariness toward Baohua.
“With my current means, I can’t destroy all seven drops of your blood essence. But without your main soul, how confident are you in surviving the next Heavenly Demon Tribulation?” Baohua countered with a faint smile.
“If I can’t survive the next tribulation, I’ll make sure you suffer as well! I’ll descend into the Spirit Realm in my true form and hunt you to the ends of the earth!” Yuanyan snarled, his composure crumbling.
“Descend in your true form? Easier said than done. Aren’t you afraid the old monsters of the Spirit Realm will join forces to obliterate you? If it were so simple, I would have done it long ago,” Baohua replied with a mocking curl of her lips.
“Baohua, you’re mistaken. Just because you couldn’t do it back then doesn’t mean the current three Sacred Ancestors can’t now,” Yuanyan sneered after a brief silence.
“Oh? So you’ve made some progress over the years. No matter. My purpose in returning to the Sacred Realm wasn’t for you. When it comes down to it, my true enemy is Liu Ji alone. You were merely an accomplice. If I were in your place back then, I’d have done the same. So until Liu Ji is dead, I have no intention of wasting effort on you,” Baohua said coldly.
“Is that so?” Yuanyan’s eyes flickered, though his expression remained icy.
“Back then, my cultivation surpassed yours. But as things stand now, eliminating you would cost me too much—more than my recovery can afford. I can swear a Heavenly Demon Oath in your presence: I won’t move against you until my strength is restored,” Baohua said, shaking her head.
“Then why are you here today? Don’t tell me you just wanted to see me humiliated,” Yuanyan demanded, suspicion creeping into his voice.
“If you hadn’t brought that Black Demon Dagger with you, I might have had other plans. But as it stands, I’m here for him.” Baohua raised a slender jade finger and pointed directly at Han Li.
Han Li, who had been silently observing the exchange between the two demonic ancestors, suddenly paled. “Not good!”
The three-headed, six-armed golden figure before him flashed forward, transforming into a solid golden barrier. At the same time, Han Li raised an arm, his fingers splayed wide.
A muffled boom echoed as the golden figure shuddered, a fist-sized hole abruptly caving inward at its chest. A white flash pierced through, an invisible force hurtling toward Han Li’s true body.
Seeing this, Han Li roared, his arm erupting with emerald light as he met the attack head-on with his bare palm.
A deafening explosion followed. A violent shockwave erupted before Han Li, sweeping outward in all directions as a green hurricane spiraled into the sky.
Baohua frowned.
That strike had consumed nearly eighty percent of her available power—close to a full Mahayana-level attack—yet Han Li had blocked it. This was beyond her expectations.
She had assumed that, despite Han Li’s formidable abilities and treasures, the pseudo-immortal puppet’s self-detonation would have exhausted his defenses. A full-force strike should have easily subdued him.
But as a former one of the three Sacred Ancestors, she was far from out of tricks. With a soft exhale, she flipped her delicate hand, and a radiant pink glow blossomed in her palm. A crystalline pink flower bud materialized, floating gently.
Baohua glanced at Han Li, her wrist twitching slightly as if to toss the bud. But then her expression froze, her hand stilling abruptly.
In the distance, the green hurricane dissipated, revealing Han Li still standing with his palm raised.
At the center of his outstretched hand, a flickering sword shadow pulsed ominously.
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