Not far behind him, there was unexpectedly a depression, about a hundred zhang wide, with bare surroundings devoid of any vegetation. At a glance, it was clearly not a natural formation.
Han Li’s expression flickered slightly, but he first released his spiritual sense, swiftly scanning everything within a radius of twenty to thirty li. Finding no trace of other cultivators, he felt reassured and turned his gaze toward the depression, slowly walking over.
Standing at the edge of the depression, Han Li examined it carefully, a trace of surprise flashing across his face. This was no ordinary depression—it was an extremely neat circular pit. The pit was filled with a hazy gray layer of accumulated dust, its depth unknown, making it impossible to discern anything clearly.
Han Li stared at the pit for a while, a contemplative look on his face. After a moment, he formed hand seals and waved his hand, conjuring a whirlwind over ten zhang tall in front of him. With a muttered “Go,” he flicked his sleeve, sending the whirlwind roaring toward the center of the pit, sweeping up dust and debris along the way. Wherever the wind passed, rocks and dirt were lifted, and within moments, the true appearance of the pit was revealed: its walls were made of dark-red, molten rock-like material, exceptionally smooth.
“This is…” Han Li immediately recognized that this had been formed by extremely high-temperature flames. Recalling the pit’s shape, he pondered briefly before his face paled with shock.
Could this be a massive crater caused by something akin to a fireball spell? If he were to release a fireball at a stone wall, it would indeed create a similar pit, but at most only a few zhang wide—utterly insignificant compared to this hundred-zhang crater.
Could this truly be the power of ancient cultivators? Were they really this formidable? Han Li stood dumbfounded for a long while before finally exhaling deeply and shaking his head.
He was overthinking it. This pit might also have been formed by an ancient fire-attribute treasure. Even so, the abilities of ancient cultivators were indeed beyond what modern cultivators could match.
Next, Han Li slowly circled the pit but found nothing else of note. He stopped and looked up at the sky. It should have been midday, but instead of the blinding sun before the teleportation, the sky was covered in endless yellow clouds, emitting a faint glow.
Han Li wasn’t surprised—he had seen this many times before. It was the result of some kind of restriction covering the entire sky. He estimated that ascending too high would likely trigger the restriction.
Despite his assumption, Han Li flicked a finger, sending a golden Gold Devouring Beetle he had retrieved at some point flying into the air.
He watched the insect expressionlessly. Sure enough, when it reached about fifty to sixty zhang above the ground, a blue lightning bolt struck it out of nowhere. The beetle tumbled and fell but spread its wings again at about seven to eight zhang high, resuming flight as if nothing had happened.
Seeing this, Han Li looked thoughtful before recalling the insect with his spiritual sense. After determining his direction, he enveloped himself in a green glow and flew slowly westward.
In such a treacherous place, he dared not fly at full speed. Crashing into a restriction or spatial rift would be pure suicide.
With agreements with both Violet Spirit and Marquis Nanlong, Han Li planned to tackle them one by one. He would delay the matter of the Spirit Candle Fruit slightly, first joining Marquis Nanlong to eliminate the Fire Toad Beast.
Although the Ghost Spirit Sect members would undoubtedly search for the Spirit Candle Fruit upon entering the valley, Han Li doubted they could find it quickly based solely on the vague memories of the Nascent Soul who had escaped the valley. It would likely take considerable time. Moreover, even if they did find the fruit, they would need to immediately refine it into pills and then meditate to absorb the medicinal effects—a process that would take days.
Thus, Han Li prioritized securing the Fire Toad’s inner core, crucial for Nangong Wan, before focusing on the Spirit Candle Fruit. Besides, he was also highly interested in the treasures left behind by the ancient cultivator guarded by the Fire Toad.
As he pondered, Han Li fully extended his spiritual sense, occasionally activating his Brightsight Spirit Eye technique to detect any hidden restrictions or spatial rifts that might evade his senses.
Though he couldn’t pinpoint his exact location in the outer valley, he knew he couldn’t be too far from other cultivators. The teleportation array, while random, operated within a limited range. Han Li had no intention of encountering others and instead headed west to meet Marquis Nanlong and the others.
According to Marquis Nanlong, while he had obtained the late Master Cangkun’s method for entering the valley, it carried risks and required expending some vitality. The only advantage was that it bypassed the need to determine one’s location—once inside, one could follow Master Cangkun’s old route straight to the inner valley.
After consideration, Han Li opted for the Ghost Spirit Sect’s method. Since the sect dared to sell Falling Devil Tokens openly, they must have some confidence in their entry method. Naturally, Han Li chose the safer option. Now, it seemed the Ghost Spirit Sect’s method had indeed brought him smoothly into the outer valley, though the journey ahead might still hold dangers.
As he flew, Han Li continuously scanned his surroundings. Suddenly, he paused, frowning at something ahead. But his expression quickly returned to normal as he continued forward, albeit at an even slower pace.
After flying another hundred zhang, Han Li stopped again, staring at a white arc of light suspended in the air. It was about a zhang long, thicker in the middle and tapered at the ends, shaped like a crescent moon. It hung silently, emitting no spiritual energy fluctuations.
Han Li examined the arc closely before raising his arm and slashing lightly in its direction. A green sword aura materialized above the arc and struck down fiercely.
With a “boom,” green light flashed, but the sword aura vanished upon contact, as if swallowed. The arc remained unchanged, still hanging in the air.
Han Li nodded. This must be a spatial rift.
If they were all this obvious, avoiding them would be easy. But he had heard of invisible spatial rifts, which would be far more troublesome. Moreover, encountering one so soon suggested they were indeed scattered throughout the Falling Devil Valley. A single misstep could spell disaster.
With a grim expression, Han Li adjusted his flight path, arcing widely around the rift before continuing onward.
Unbeknownst to Han Li, about a hundred li away, a portly old man was staring at a much smaller spatial rift, muttering similar thoughts. “That was close. To be teleported right next to a spatial rift—just a dozen zhang off, and I’d be dead. Seems these rifts are everywhere in the Falling Devil Valley. I’ll need to be extra careful.”
The old man’s face was pale as he surveyed his surroundings. After confirming no immediate threats with his spiritual sense, he chose a direction and flew forward.
Suddenly, a white light flashed mid-flight. Without even a scream, the old man’s body was cleanly severed in two. His corpse, drenched in blood, plummeted to the ground, his face frozen in disbelief and unwillingness.
The newly revealed spatial rift dimmed and slowly turned transparent again, invisible to any who might pass by.
Elsewhere, three richly robed cultivators were sweating profusely as they darted back and forth among a pile of boulders. No matter which direction they took, after flying a few dozen zhang, a rainbow-colored barrier would appear, blocking their path.
“This is hopeless. We can’t get out like this. Those damned Ghost Spirit Sect bastards teleported us straight into a restriction. Once we break free, we’ll make them pay!” A scar-faced man among them finally stopped and cursed loudly.
“Save your breath. The Ghost Spirit Sect wouldn’t care about small fry like us causing trouble. Besides, they warned us—teleportation is random. Even if we’d landed in a spatial rift, it’d be our own bad luck. At least this restriction isn’t offensive. We’ll find a way out eventually,” another man with high cheekbones said coldly.
“But by then, others will have taken all the treasures in the valley! At our level, we can only scavenge the outer valley. The inner valley is suicide. And we spent everything we had on those Falling Devil Tokens!” The scarred man shook his head furiously.
“In that case, we’ll have to brute-force our way out. No matter how tricky this restriction seems, it’s still in the outer valley—it can’t be that powerful. We’ll lose some spiritual energy, but at least we’ll break free quickly,” the high-cheekboned man said after a pause.
“Fine. Second Brother, your magic treasure is offensive. You’ll lead the charge, and we’ll support you,” a dark-skinned man added, nodding in agreement.
“Leave it to me. A few strikes should be enough to shatter this damned thing,” the scarred man said, perking up. He opened his mouth and spat out a yellow glow, revealing a small, square stone seal about an inch in size.
Forming hand seals, he pointed at the seal, which rapidly expanded to several feet in size.
The other two summoned a red and a white flying sword, both gleaming sharply.
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