However, the demonic form Han Li had transformed into remained utterly indifferent. A layer of crystalline light shimmered across the face of his central head before the arm holding the dark-green giant sword swung once more.
The world’s spiritual energy trembled as another dark-green thread of light unfurled.
Ma Liang’s expression changed. Without hesitation, he flicked both sleeves, releasing a dazzling array of treasures—nearly a hundred in total—that surged forth in a chaotic swarm.
As the dark-green thread flashed toward him, the treasures rushed to intercept it, exploding into blinding spheres of light.
Each of these treasures was extraordinary. With every explosion, the dark-green thread paused momentarily, dissipating slightly.
By the time all hundred treasures had self-destructed, the dark-green thread had diminished to only a dozen zhang in length as it reached Ma Liang.
With a low shout, Ma Liang extended a finger, now glowing crimson-gold, and pointed at the thread.
*Bang!*
The finger exploded into a mist of blood, but the remaining dark-green thread also disintegrated into nothingness.
“Twice now! Wielding a Profound Heavenly Treasure at full power consumes immense spiritual energy. How much can a mere Body Integration cultivator possibly have left? There’s no way you can unleash a third strike. Heh, and with that colossal sword formation still active, you must be running on fumes by now!”
Though missing a finger and looking somewhat disheveled, Ma Liang’s gaze toward Han Li was filled with malice. With a flip of his hand, a translucent silver flute appeared in his grasp.
“Whether I can strike a third time—why don’t you test it and see? Besides, you’re not in much better shape yourself. How many more divine abilities can *you* still muster?”
The three heads of Han Li’s demonic form sneered in unison, but he indeed refrained from launching a third attack with the dark-green blade. Instead, his five other hands clenched in the air, each conjuring a sphere of golden light that solidified into five exceptionally heavy weapons—a staff, a hammer, a mace, and others.
“Hah! Even if I can only use one more divine ability, it’ll be enough to finish you!” Ma Liang roared with laughter, though inwardly seething. He raised the silver flute to his lips.
In the next moment, a silver soundwave rippled forth with the flute’s melody, resonating through the void.
Wherever the faint silver waves passed, the air trembled and blurred.
The moment the demonic form of Han Li heard the music, his three heads drooped slightly, and a dizzying intoxication washed over him. The surroundings distorted abruptly, plunging him into a churning sea of blood.
From the crimson waves surged countless green-faced, fanged demons, each exuding terrifying auras—seemingly all at the Body Integration level or higher.
“Hmph, such petty illusions dare to deceive me?”
Han Li’s mind remained unshaken. With a cold snort, the demonic form swung all five heavy weapons outward in a devastating arc.
A terrifying shockwave erupted, obliterating the blood sea and demons in an instant.
No matter how refined the illusion, it stood no chance against such overwhelming force.
Ma Liang smirked, continuing to play the flute. His figure blurred as a shadowy silhouette split from his back, vanishing into the void.
At the same time, the illusions around Han Li reformed as the soundwaves rolled back in, the blood sea and demons reappearing to encircle him once more.
Han Li paused briefly before realization dawned. Without hesitation, he unleashed another golden shockwave, scattering the illusions again.
Simultaneously, the Nascent Soul within his dantian formed a hand seal, releasing a surge of crystalline energy that flowed through his meridians and into his three heads.
The intoxicating dizziness in his consciousness vanished instantly.
Now, no matter how the flute’s melody persisted, no further illusions manifested.
Ma Liang’s heart clenched in shock.
This silver flute was no ordinary treasure—it was one of his most prized possessions. Its music ensnared foes in endless illusions unless their spiritual sense surpassed the player’s.
For Han Li to resist so effortlessly meant his spiritual power was even greater than Ma Liang’s!
Though suppressed by the realm’s laws, Ma Liang’s spiritual sense still rivaled that of an immortal.
This unexpected turn also rendered his planned killing move useless.
As Ma Liang’s expression darkened, the three-headed, six-armed demonic form took a massive stride forward and vanished.
Ma Liang, battle-hardened, sensed danger and teleported hundreds of zhang away just as five golden blasts hammered his previous location, distorting space itself.
The demonic form reappeared amid the rippling aftermath.
Ma Liang’s face paled slightly at the sight. Such brute force could shatter even an immortal’s body—he couldn’t afford close combat.
But as Han Li had said earlier, despite his arsenal of immortal techniques, his depleted energy reserves left him with few options.
Before he could decide, the demonic form roared and vanished again.
Ma Liang teleported frantically, each evasion followed by golden shockwaves erupting where he’d stood.
For dozens of exchanges, Han Li pursued relentlessly, giving Ma Liang no respite.
Finally, the immortal’s fury overcame caution.
At his next reappearance, instead of fleeing, he hurled a jade box into the air and rapidly incanted.
Five golden strikes shattered the box, releasing a crimson cloud that coalesced into a bizarre flood dragon covered in fiery tendrils.
The golden weapons swung at it, but the creature dissolved into embers, reforming beside Ma Liang as a three-foot-tall crimson figure.
“You’ve undone my second seal? Hah! You must be truly desperate!” the figure cackled.
Han Li’s demonic form hesitated, eyeing the newcomer.
“Fire Attendant, enough chatter! Eliminate him now!” Ma Liang snapped.
“Why should I obey you now that I’m free?” the crimson figure sneered.
“Then you don’t want your life-core pearl returned?” Ma Liang hissed.
“You’d give it back? Heh, no wonder you’re in such a state. Swear by the Dao Ancestor of Nine Origins, and I’ll help—*once*.”
“*What?!*” Ma Liang’s face twisted with rage.
“No oath, no aid.”
“Fine! But afterward, you’ll serve me for ten thousand years in the immortal realm!”
“Ten millennia? A blink of time. Consider this brat handled.”
“Don’t underestimate him. The realm suppresses you too, and your body’s damaged. Even freed, you’re a shadow of your true power.”
“Relax. I’ll just distract him. *You* finish the job.”
With a yawn, the crimson figure finally turned to inspect Han Li’s demonic form, utterly nonchalant.
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