Han Li sat cross-legged in a quiet chamber on the second floor of the pavilion, his eyes tightly shut, his body enveloped in a translucent cyan glow. His fingers formed an intricate hand seal, and between his palms floated a purple flame the size of an egg, flickering incessantly.
This was the demonic flame Han Li had cultivated by merging the Dry Blue Ice Flame with the frigid breath of the Six-Winged Frost Centipede. Its power clearly surpassed that of the Dry Blue Ice Flame, making it Han Li’s current deadliest trump card.
Once this flame had manifested, Han Li would immediately convert every wisp of the Dry Blue Ice Flame he refined into this purple demonic flame, truly making it his own. To distinguish it from the Asura Sacred Flame, he named it the “Violet Extreme Flame.”
He was certain that even a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator would find it unbearable if touched by this flame. As for whether it could outright kill such a cultivator, Han Li had never witnessed a late-stage Nascent Soul expert in action, so he couldn’t predict the outcome.
Unfortunately, while the flame’s power was indeed astonishing, its quantity was limited by the amount of Dry Blue Ice Flame he could refine. Currently, he could only control this much Violet Extreme Flame. If he could multiply its volume several times over, he might even stand a chance against a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator in a direct confrontation.
“Congratulations, Master! The Violet Extreme Flame seems even more potent than when this servant first saw it. It appears there’s still much potential to be unlocked!” The melodious voice of Silvermoon echoed in Han Li’s mind, filled with admiration.
Hearing this, Han Li curled his lips slightly in a faint smile. Without a word, he inhaled sharply, and the Violet Extreme Flame instantly transformed into a thin thread of fire, which he drew into his abdomen. Only then did he release his hand seal and withdraw his cultivation technique.
“Though the Violet Extreme Flame is formidable, its quantity is too limited to fully rely on. What I truly desire now is to unlock the ‘Void Heaven Cauldron.’ If the power of the Heaven-reaching Spiritual Treasure you described is real, possessing this cauldron should allow me to sweep through the entire South Sky. Only then would I truly be able to rest easy in this realm,” Han Li said slowly as he opened his eyes.
“Master need not worry. The Void Heaven Cauldron’s might exceeds even what this servant has described—it is in no way inferior,” Silvermoon replied with a light laugh, brimming with confidence.
Han Li nodded but was about to speak further when a streak of white light shot into the chamber. Ying Ning’s crisp voice rang out urgently: “Uncle Han, come to the main hall at once! Senior Ma and the others have returned, and the Mulan people are about to arrive!” As soon as the words were spoken, the white light circled once before darting back out.
Han Li’s expression darkened, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. He rose and strode out of the chamber.
By the time Han Li arrived in the main hall, Gu Shuangpu and the bald-browed man were already present. The old man surnamed Ma and another slightly hunchbacked, pale-faced cultivator in brocade robes—who had gone to provide support—were speaking with them. The Murong brothers, Ying Ning, and two unfamiliar Core Formation cultivators stood nearby, listening with grave expressions.
However, when Ying Ning noticed Han Li’s arrival, she glanced his way and flashed a radiant smile.
“Fellow Daoist Han, you’ve arrived. Let me introduce you—this is Fellow Daoist Bu Yunhe, who oversees Heavenly Terrace Valley, and this is Fellow Daoist Han from the Falling Cloud Sect,” the bald-browed man forced a smile and made the introductions with feigned ease.
Seeing this, Han Li’s heart sank slightly. It seemed the situation was even worse than anticipated.
“I’ve long heard of Fellow Daoist Bu’s reputation from Brother Lu. It’s truly a relief that you managed to escape safely,” Han Li said politely, a trace of goodwill in his tone.
“My disheveled state must be quite a sight for Fellow Daoist Han. This time, I owe my survival to Fellow Daoist Ma’s timely intervention—otherwise, it would’ve been perilous indeed,” Bu Yunhe replied with a bitter smile, showing no surprise at Han Li’s presence. Instead, he cast a grateful glance at the old man surnamed Ma.
“It was nothing more than a trivial effort. What’s strange is that the pursuers retreated before I even had a chance to act—quite frustrating, really!” The old man chuckled dryly.
“That’s because your ancient treasure’s aura was too overwhelming. The Mulan pursuers, uncertain of their chances, naturally chose to avoid a direct clash. However, this invasion by the spell warriors is unlike any before. Not only are they far more disciplined, but the ancient beasts they’ve brought are terrifyingly powerful—thick-skinned, armored, and colossal in size. Worse still, they’ve been enhanced with numerous bizarre restrictions. Once they breach a formation, its collapse is only a matter of time,” Bu Yunhe explained, a trace of lingering fear in his expression.
“Could even a Nascent Soul cultivator like yourself not harm those beasts?” Han Li asked, his face twisting slightly in disbelief. Though he’d heard these beasts were extraordinary, their reported strength was still hard to fathom.
“With my cultivation and a full-powered strike from my magic treasure, I could injure them. But at the time, I was under joint assault from two high-ranking spell warriors, leaving me no room to act. That’s how the formation was broken. With Fellow Daoist Lu’s reinforcements here—including Fellow Daoist Ma—this place shouldn’t fall as easily as my Heavenly Terrace Valley,” Bu Yunhe mused, his expression easing somewhat.
“Fellow Daoist Bu, how many Great Masters are among this group of spell warriors? If their numbers are few, the five of us Nascent Soul cultivators could launch a surprise attack. Even if we can’t kill one or two, severely wounding them would still be worthwhile,” Gu Shuangpu suggested darkly.
“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Fellow Daoist Gu. Though I haven’t fought them all, aside from the two Great Masters who appeared, I also sensed another unfamiliar spell warrior. Reports later warned us to be wary of him. Though he never acted, his aura was exceedingly sinister—possibly a transformed non-human entity. Moreover, beyond these three, I can’t be certain if other high-ranking spell warriors are hiding among them,” Bu Yunhe sighed, clearly unconvinced by the idea.
“In that case, we should first gauge their strength. If they prove too formidable, we’ll rely on the formation to hold them off. After all, our current task is merely to buy time for those behind us,” the bald-browed man agreed with a nod.
Gu Shuangpu frowned but didn’t press further, adopting an indifferent expression. Han Li and the old man surnamed Ma also voiced no objections.
Subsequently, the bald-browed man instructed Chongxu the Daoist to escort Bu Yunhe to a quiet chamber for recovery. He then ordered Ying Ning and the others to arrange accommodations for the retreating Heavenly Terrace Valley cultivators and reinforced the formation’s guards.
Watching the bald-browed man handle everything with meticulous efficiency, Han Li nodded inwardly. It seemed the Nine Nations Alliance had good reason to entrust him with sole command of this place.
Just then, a thunderous drumming echoed faintly from afar, growing louder by the moment like peals of thunder on a clear day. The expressions of everyone in the hall darkened.
“It seems the Mulan people are in quite a hurry—they’ve caught up right after our return,” the old man surnamed Ma said coldly, his eyes glinting with killing intent.
“Very well. Let’s meet them first and see what formidable figures this group holds. This time, we’ll have to trouble the three of you. You two will accompany us as well—since you’ve fought them before, you can warn us of any underhanded tactics they might employ,” the bald-browed man said, first cupping his hands toward Han Li and the others before turning to the two Core Formation cultivators who had retreated with Bu Yunhe.
One of the two had thick eyebrows and a dark complexion, while the other had a long face and thin brows, exuding a gloomy air. Upon hearing the bald-browed man’s words, they exchanged a glance before promptly clasping their fists in agreement.
Meanwhile, Han Li gazed thoughtfully in the direction of the drumming, his face expressionless, his thoughts inscrutable.
To the south of Yellow Dragon Mountain, a vast, dark mass of Mulan spell warriors stood arrayed in orderly ranks atop bizarre flying artifacts, overlooking a sprawling green mist sea spanning dozens of miles.
At the forefront of the army stood over a dozen figures, their bodies shimmering with various spiritual lights and treasures—the high-ranking Mulan spell warriors. Among them, three stood out the most: one enveloped in crimson light, a grotesque fire serpent as thick as a bowl coiled around his body; another gaunt and towering like a bamboo pole, as if a gust of wind could topple him; and the last clad in a black robe, his face obscured, his entire form wreathed in eerie black mist, faint wails of ghosts emanating from his robes, chilling all who neared him.
Indeed, while the others clustered around the first two, the black-robed spell warrior stood alone at the front, as if he didn’t belong with the rest.
The other spell warriors cast furtive, fearful glances his way—though upon closer inspection, their awe was tinged with unmistakable revulsion.
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