Chapter 991: Golden Earth Escape and Ice Flame Spirit

With a thunderous boom, Han Li vanished from his original spot. A flash of electric arcs appeared over twenty feet away, and his figure reappeared.

But as soon as he materialized, Han Li fixed his gaze on the source of the dazzling light, his expression grave.

With his Brightsight Spirit Eyes, he could clearly see what was happening within the radiance.

The Emerald Swarm Swords, infused with Gold Essence, should have been incomparably sharp. Yet when the sword beams struck the golden barrier, they were effortlessly deflected, as if their power had been completely nullified—as though the barrier had redirected their force back at them.

Meanwhile, the lightning serpent formed by the Evil-Suppressing Divine Lightning merely caused the barrier to tremble before dissipating without further effect.

But when the purple flames landed on the golden barrier…

A cold glint flashed in Han Li’s eyes as the light dimmed and vanished. In the distance, a massive block of pale purple ice had formed, sealing both the golden barrier and the Silver-Winged Nightfiend within it.

The Silver-Winged Nightfiend remained unharmed inside the barrier, though its face betrayed surprise.

Clearly, it hadn’t expected the purple flames to freeze the golden barrier.

However, since its true form wasn’t trapped, breaking free was effortless.

The Silver-Winged Nightfiend pressed both hands against the golden barrier, causing countless golden rays to burst forth, piercing tiny holes through the ice.

The entire block of purple ice shattered into fragments.

Han Li’s heart tightened. With a wave of his hand, all his flying swords swiftly returned to him.

Moments later, the Silver-Winged Nightfiend flickered and effortlessly emerged from the ice.

Then, with a cold, lifeless gaze, it stared at Han Li before suddenly raising a hand.

A golden sphere of light materialized in its palm, glowing brilliantly.

But at that moment, Han Li suddenly spoke:

“Now I can finally confirm—aside from earth and wind escape techniques, you indeed possess metal escape as well. Yet as far as I know, even among human cultivators, few can master metal escape. Among corpse refiners, only the legendary Golden-Moon Corpse is said to possess such an ability. Could it be that you’ve already begun your ascension?”

As he spoke, Han Li’s gaze lingered on the faint golden scales covering the creature’s body.

The Silver-Winged Nightfiend seemed momentarily surprised by the question but soon sneered. “Hmph! I began my ascension ten thousand years ago. Had you mid-Nascent Soul cultivators joined forces from the start, you might have stood a chance. But now, with only you alone—even with your tricks—your hopes are nothing but delusion.”

With that, the Silver-Winged Nightfiend no longer concealed its power. A light flap of its wings turned them from silver-white to pale gold, and an overwhelming aura erupted, so powerful that even the massive barrier encasing the formation trembled.

Han Li’s pupils contracted. This aura far surpassed any late-Nascent Soul cultivator he had encountered—far beyond the likes of the Three Great Cultivators of the South. The only beings he had seen that could rival this flying corpse were the two ancient demons in the Fallen Devil Valley.

Though inwardly shaken, Han Li maintained a calm facade and probed further:

“Even if you began your ascension long ago, trapped in this sunless place, you’ve been unable to absorb the Yin Moon’s essence. Even after another ten thousand years, you’d never succeed. At most, you’ve grasped the rudiments of metal escape—just some peculiar application of technique. Against artifacts or treasures without metal attributes, your abilities are useless.”

As he spoke, Han Li recalled how the creature had pierced his bronze shield and deflected his flying swords, realizing the difficulty of the situation. After all, few magical treasures lacked metal components.

“Is that so?” the Silver-Winged Nightfiend sneered. “Then experience it firsthand. But I’ve no interest in chasing you further. With my next strike, you’ll surrender your life.”

Without further delay, the Silver-Winged Nightfiend raised one hand, the golden sphere in its palm growing blindingly bright. Its other arm lifted, fingers splayed, and gray beams shot toward the desiccated corpses on the surrounding stone pillars.

In an instant, the beams vanished into the corpses.

Han Li had no time to react. His expression darkened as a sense of foreboding gripped him.

Sure enough, the sound of clinking chains filled the air as the restraints fell away. The corpses opened their emerald-green eyes and shambled free from the pillars.

After a few steps, they halted, their emotionless gazes fixed on Han Li in the sky.

“With so many corpse-ghost avatars aiding me, you stand no chance. Surrender now, and I’ll spare you the torment of soul refinement,” the Silver-Winged Nightfiend declared coldly.

Han Li scanned the surrounding corpses and fell silent. After a long sigh, he murmured, almost inaudibly, “I hadn’t expected to use this treasure today. I wonder if this is your misfortune or my bad luck.”

Without hesitation, he slapped an exquisitely crafted storage pouch at his waist. A fist-sized ball of light shot out, circled once, and landed in his hand, revealing an ancient-looking feathered fan.

The fan was only a few inches long, divided into gold, silver, and red sections. Dense layers of talismans and spirit patterns covered its surface, shifting between three-colored auras with the slightest movement. Countless arcane symbols flickered across it, dizzying to behold.

This was clearly no ordinary treasure.

Meanwhile, the Silver-Winged Nightfiend had completed its spell and launched its attack.

With a roar, it hurled the golden sphere into the air.

The sphere spun rapidly, releasing countless golden rays that transformed into needle-thin projectiles. These golden needles swirled around the sphere before raining down on Han Li like a storm.

Half the sky blazed with golden light, the relentless assault leaving Han Li no room to evade.

Simultaneously, the corpses below raised their hands, spewing endless streams of soul-snaring threads that wove together into a vast gray net, rising to ensnare him.

The net spanned dozens of yards, its baleful aura so intense that an ordinary cultivator would collapse before it even touched them, their limbs weak and magic power in disarray.

But Han Li, possessing a body tempered by baleful energy and trained in the King Ming Art, remained unaffected.

Still, the sheer scale of the attack—like an inescapable celestial net—left even him inwardly shaken.

His expression darkened as he rubbed his hands together.

With a flash of light, the Three Flames Fan expanded to several feet in length.

Gripping the handle, Han Li channeled his magic power and swung it downward with all his might.

To his shock, the fan drained over half his magic power in an instant, nearly causing him to drop it.

But as the fan emitted a phoenix’s cry, the drain ceased. The fan trembled violently, unleashing a torrent of three-colored flames that coalesced into a ten-foot-long fire phoenix, its plumage shimmering in gold, silver, and red. The phoenix dove straight toward the net.

The spectacle stunned Han Li, but he had no time to dwell on it. Originally intending to strike the golden needles as well, he now lacked the magic power. Instead, he directed his flying swords into a rapid dance, conjuring golden lotuses that bloomed around him, obscuring his form.

Not stopping there, he spat a mouthful of blood essence onto the Snow Crystal Pearl hovering above him.

The pearl shuddered violently, releasing a wisp of deep purple flame.

Under Han Li’s guidance, the flame encircled him with eerie sentience. The temperature plummeted, and a strange hissing filled the air as a towering ice wall, over thirty feet high and shimmering with purple light, formed around him.

Just then, the golden needles arrived.

A cacophony of clinking sounds erupted as golden and purple lights clashed. The ice wall’s surface glittered with countless golden dots, each leaving a hole several inches deep.

Though the wall was over ten feet thick, layers of ice were rapidly stripped away.

Han Li’s expression flickered.

Unbeknownst to him, the Silver-Winged Nightfiend was equally astonished.

These golden needles, forged from metal-attribute spiritual power refined from an unknown ore over millennia and tempered with corpse fire, were extraordinarily potent. Yet they couldn’t instantly penetrate the ice wall—a stark contrast to how easily they had shattered the purple ice earlier.

The Silver-Winged Nightfiend didn’t realize that Han Li’s purple flame, enhanced by Snow Soul Pills and the Snow Crystal Pearl, was no ordinary Violet Heavenly Flame. It was a concentrated essence of extreme cold, far surpassing the norm.

But to unleash it with insufficient magic power, Han Li had been forced to expend blood essence.

Meanwhile, the three-colored fire phoenix plunged into the gray net below.

The net flashed with gray light, spewing countless threads to ensnare the phoenix.

For a moment, the sky was blotted out by the dense web of threads, nearly obscuring the bird entirely.

The phoenix let out a proud cry, its body spinning as it released rings of radiant light—gold, silver, and red swirling amidst profound runes, a breathtaking display.

And as the soul-snaring threads entered the light, something incredible happened…