The green figure remained unscathed amidst the Evil-Warding Divine Thunder and instead sneered mockingly at Han Li.
“Don’t celebrate too soon. If you were truly confident in devouring my Nascent Soul, you wouldn’t just be spouting empty words. If I’m not mistaken, while you can consume the souls of low-level cultivators, the idea of devouring a Nascent Soul is pure delusion. Perhaps in the past, you could have done so, but now, you’re clearly overestimating yourself—relying solely on this monstrous form. Enough talk. Let’s test my flying swords first.” Han Li sneered, his few words causing the figure’s expression to darken, its eyes gleaming with venomous hatred.
At that moment, Han Li pointed at the flying swords hovering before him. With a resonant hum, the twelve swords transformed into streaks of emerald light, shooting forth.
The green figure stood motionless, its face grim. A dozen sword lights encircled it, and in an instant, its body was sliced into countless fragments, which floated in the air, faintly shimmering.
Han Li was momentarily stunned.
But then, eerie laughter echoed from across the room. The fragments of the figure’s body flickered with light and swiftly reassembled.
An identical green figure reappeared, unharmed.
“Tsk, tsk, not bad at all! These swords are forged from Golden Lightning Bamboo, aren’t they? Though I don’t know how you obtained so much of it, thinking you can harm me with just these swords is utterly laughable. As for whether this old lady is all talk, you’ll soon find out.”
The figure, thoroughly enraged by Han Li’s earlier words, muttered darkly before forming a hand seal. A blinding green light erupted from its body as it prepared to unleash some technique. But before it could succeed, a flash of light appeared above its head. The twelve swords crackled with arcs of lightning, weaving together into a massive golden net that descended upon it.
“Hmph! Still refusing to give up? I told you, the Evil-Warding Divine Thunder is useless against me. Wait—what are you doing?!” The childlike voice, initially mocking, suddenly turned shrill with panic.
Instead of exploding, the golden net contracted rapidly, wrapping tightly around the figure and compressing it relentlessly. The figure struggled desperately, its green light flaring, but to no avail. Within moments, it was encased in a massive golden sphere.
Han Li smirked coldly.
Condensing the Evil-Warding Divine Thunder into a net was an innovation of his own—unprecedented since the discovery of Golden Lightning Bamboo.
In the past, even if someone had been fortunate enough to obtain a few segments of Golden Lightning Bamboo and forged them into treasures, none would dare waste the divine thunder so recklessly. Moreover, forming such a vast net required the energy of over a dozen segments—something no one else could achieve.
Through years of wielding the divine thunder, Han Li had discovered that, aside from its innate suppression of demonic arts, it also had the unique ability to seal and restrain spiritual energy. Whether it was the Asura Sacred Flame or the Wind Spirit Force, the divine thunder could trap them effortlessly, preventing their eruption or escape. This unexpected revelation had delighted him.
Back in his Core Formation stage, his limited cultivation had prevented him from mastering the golden net technique, so he rarely used it in combat. But now, with his cultivation greatly advanced and the fourth layer of the Great Development Art enhancing his spiritual sense, he no longer had such reservations.
Though the origin of this figure was unknown, it was clearly no ordinary flesh-and-blood or ghostly entity—more like a mutated variant of a cultivator’s Nascent Soul. Thus, Han Li decided to test this technique.
Unbeknownst to the figure, while it had heard of Golden Lightning Bamboo treasures, it knew nothing of the divine thunder’s hidden properties. Had it known, it would never have been so brazen. In the blink of an eye, the once-arrogant figure was effortlessly subdued.
Pleased with his success, Han Li waved his hand, summoning a swirl of azure light that carried the golden sphere back to his grasp.
“How dare you trap me?! Release me at once, or I’ll refine your soul and make you wish for death!” The sphere trembled violently as the child’s voice shrieked in fury.
“Refine my soul? It seems you still don’t understand your predicament. Take some time to reflect inside.” Han Li frowned, his expression darkening.
With a crackle of thunder, golden arcs surged from his hand, weaving layer upon layer around the sphere until it had nearly doubled in size. Only after consuming half of the divine thunder stored in his swords did Han Li finally nod in satisfaction.
Ignoring the figure’s frenzied curses, he retrieved a white jade box from his storage pouch, stuffed the golden sphere inside, and sealed it with several restriction talismans. The noise ceased instantly.
Han Li weighed the box in his hand, his expression calm once more. Glancing at the soulless, lifeless body of the stout cultivator, he emotionlessly incinerated it with a fireball. Then, unhurriedly, he flew back toward the small town.
A short while later, Han Li leisurely returned to his inn, where he remained in seclusion, awaiting the day of the birthday celebration.
Not long after, the cultivators of Yuanwu Country were shocked to discover that the infamous Peng-Yi Twins, notorious for murder and pillaging, had vanished without a trace. Their disappearance, in the world of cultivation, could only mean one thing: their demise.
The news spread quickly, eliciting cheers from the rogue cultivators of Yuanwu. Some speculated they had offended a major sect, while others claimed a passing expert had rid the world of their scourge. Rumors ran rampant.
Meanwhile, in Tian Luo Country—millions of miles away from Yuanwu—lay the stronghold of the Six Demonic Sects. In the western region, the sprawling Qi Ling Mountains, home to countless spirit beasts and exotic insects, served as the base of the Spirit Beast Sect.
At the very moment Han Li had trapped the demonic Nascent Soul, a pitch-black stone chamber deep within Qi Ling Mountains echoed with the enraged roar of an elder:
“Who?! Who dares imprison the Wood Spirit Nascent Infant?! Send word to our disciples in Yuanwu at once! If they fail to recover the escaped infant within three months, they will pay with their lives! And ensure secrecy—we cannot let the Flame Demon Sect catch wind of this!”
Despite his fury, the elder’s orders were methodical.
“As you command, Uncle-Master. I shall relay the orders immediately,” a steady male voice responded from outside the chamber.
“Wait! Also, dispatch Yun Zhi and Liu Yu to Yuanwu. Both possess wood-attribute spiritual roots and are the most compatible with the Wood Spirit Nascent Infant. They may sense its presence if they get close. But warn them to exercise caution—anyone capable of imprisoning the infant is no ordinary foe. Once the culprit is identified, I shall deal with them personally.”
“Understood. I shall personally summon the two junior sisters. This disciple takes his leave.”
Footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only a deep sigh resonating in the darkness.
Back in the mist-shrouded Purple Dao Mountain, within the grand fortress, the current Fu family patriarch, Fu Tianhua, was in high spirits. His benevolent demeanor toward even the youngest family members left many awestruck, accustomed as they were to his stern authority.
With his 400th birthday approaching, and as the eldest Core Formation elder of the Fu family, even the two guardians of the Flame Demon Sect were set to attend his celebration—a tremendous honor for the Fu clan.
The family spared no effort in preparation, ensuring nothing would mar the occasion. After a brief inspection, the patriarch, satisfied, retired to a side hall with a few juniors in tow.
“Qing’er, have the honored guests from the Flame Demon Sect arrived yet? Could something have delayed them?” The hawk-eyed patriarch, clad in purple robes, reclined in a grand chair, his voice calm yet commanding—befitting the man who had elevated the Fu family’s prestige over the past century.
“Reporting to the Patriarch, Elder Sun of the Flame Demon Sect has already sent word. He and Guardian Mo will personally attend your celebration and should arrive within a day or two,” a pale-faced cultivator in his forties replied respectfully, standing with hands clasped.
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