“It was during my travels in the Western Chuan region of the Thunder Continent that I discovered a deeply hidden Mystic Jade Mine. By chance, I found such a large quantity of Haoyin Stones at its core,” Bai Guo’er replied respectfully.
“I see. But had you not cultivated the Frost Soul Divine Ability to such a level, you likely wouldn’t have sensed the presence of these Haoyin Stones. You’ve rendered a great service this time. You may withdraw for now. I will reward you heavily later,” Han Li nodded with a gentle expression before dismissing her.
“Yes, this disciple will take her leave,” Bai Guo’er said obediently, bowing once more before exiting the grand hall.
After her graceful figure vanished beyond the palace doors, Han Li’s expression turned contemplative.
The Haoyin Frost Soul Mountain, one of the Five Ultimate Peaks of the Yuanhe Mountain, could finally be forged.
With this, only the materials for the final Northern Polar Yuan Mountain remained unaccounted for. However, he wasn’t overly concerned.
Back in the Spirit Realm’s Demonfall Valley, he had once encountered an astonishing amount of Northern Polar Yuan Light. It was likely that he could easily find the necessary Northern Polar Yuan Crystals there.
Yet, given his current cultivation realm, his true body naturally couldn’t descend to the lower realm directly. The terrifying force between realms would be unbearable. The only way was to employ a specialized Star Plate capable of breaching realms, along with paying a considerable price, to allow a wisp of his soul to descend back to the human world.
The unique soul fragment he had been nurturing within the Soul Lamp would finally serve its purpose.
As Han Li thought of returning to the human world, memories of the Seven Mysteries Sect, the Yellow Maple Valley, the Falling Cloud Sect, and other sects surged in his mind. Images of his parents, younger sister, Li Feiyu, and the Great Divination Sage flashed by, plunging him into deep reminiscence.
Months later, a thunderous boom echoed from a secret chamber within the Green Origin Palace. At the center of the chamber, within a massive crimson cauldron, a small, crystalline white mountain emerged, wreathed in silver flames.
The moment it left the cauldron, the mountain expanded with the wind, its surface flickering with white runes as a vast wave of icy mist unfurled.
“The Haoyin Frost Soul Mountain is finally complete. Now, only the Northern Polar Yuan Mountain remains,” Han Li murmured, narrowing his eyes as he observed the radiant peak from his seated position in the corner of the chamber.
…
A year later, on a secluded path at the border between the Great Jin Empire and the barbarian tribes, several rough-looking men gathered around a fire, roasting an unknown small beast while conversing loudly.
Though their clothes were tattered, each carried weapons—short blades and spears—stained with traces of blood.
In a corner near the fire lay another man, frail and bound tightly with hemp rope. His pale face, closed eyes, and blue scholar’s robe marked him as a young man in his early twenties. A sharpened wooden rod gagged his mouth, from which black blood trickled. He seemed barely alive, on the verge of death.
The burly men paid him no mind, feasting and laughing heartily.
After some time, one of them, a disheveled figure, suddenly spoke up:
“That poor scholar should be dead by now. Someone go check. Hmph, a weakling like him daring to meddle in our affairs? He must’ve had a death wish.”
“I’ll take a look. He hasn’t moved for a while—probably done for. If he’s still breathing, I’ll finish him off with a blade,” the smallest of the group sneered, casting a vicious glance at the bound man.
“Do as you please, but be quick. We leave this area tomorrow—time to find new hunting grounds. The world’s in chaos lately; even we’re struggling,” the disheveled man replied indifferently.
With a cruel grin, the thin man grabbed a single-edged sword and staggered toward the blue-robed scholar.
He kicked out.
A dull thud!
The scholar was sent flying several feet, landing face-up but unmoving, the black blood at his mouth now partially dried.
Despite his unassuming appearance, the thin man possessed surprising strength.
“Dead already. Tch, lucky for you—saved me the trouble,” the man spat, turning back toward the fire.
Just then, a sinister gray wind swept in from the distance, causing the flames to flicker wildly as a deep, eerie laughter echoed:
“Marvelous! To think I’d find such fine prey in this desolate wilderness. Your souls shall perfect my treasure!”
“Damn it! It’s that demonic cultivator everyone’s been talking about! Run!” The disheveled man paled, leaping up and bolting without even grabbing his weapon.
The others scattered in terror, sprinting in all directions.
In moments, only the motionless blue-robed scholar remained by the fire.
“Cackle…”
The gray wind swirled, splitting into several black streaks that shot after the fleeing men.
Soon, agonized screams rang out from different directions.
The laughter ceased abruptly as the black streaks converged above the fire, coalescing into the form of a black-robed Daoist priest.
With narrow, triangular eyes and high-arching brows, the priest exuded a sinister aura. Yet, he now held a gray-white crystal orb, his face alight with glee.
“Excellent! These men’s souls carry such potent malice—they must’ve slaughtered many. Perfect for refining my treasure. Hm? Another one here, his soul still lingering? Might as well take it too.”
After a brief celebratory dance, the priest’s gaze fell upon the scholar. With a flick of his orb, a black mist surged forth, enveloping the blue-robed man.
**BOOM!**
The moment the mist touched the scholar, it exploded violently, sending shockwaves that forced the priest back several steps.
“Who dares lurk in the shadows? Show yourself!” the priest barked, hastily activating several talismans that formed layered barriers around him as he scanned his surroundings warily.
“Judging by your foul aura, you practice some low-tier demonic arts,” a calm male voice remarked nearby.
“Who’s there?!”
The priest whirled toward the source—only to freeze in shock.
The supposedly lifeless scholar now sat upright, free of his bonds and gag, his gaze cool and composed.
“Who are you? Are you here for me?” the priest demanded, his mind racing with suspicion.
“Here for you? Don’t flatter yourself. There isn’t a soul in this world worth my attention,” the scholar replied with a faint sneer, his eyes sweeping the area before settling on the priest.
“What? ‘This world’? You’re—”
“Enough. No need to waste words on a minor demonic cultivator like you. I’ll soon learn where in the human world I’ve arrived,” the scholar interrupted coldly.
With a flick of his tongue, a green thread shot from his mouth.
**Sssshhk!**
The priest’s protective barriers shattered instantly. A finger-sized hole appeared in his forehead, and he collapsed without a sound.
The scholar raised a hand, and the priest’s corpse flew toward him, suspended by the head.
Blue light flickered in the scholar’s eyes as a crystalline thread shot from his brow, vanishing into the priest’s skull.
Moments later, he released the corpse, letting it drop to the ground.
“Great Jin in turmoil… A war between righteous and demonic factions… Interesting. The human world has grown chaotic since my last visit. But this is none of my concern. Pity this man was only at the Foundation Establishment stage—he knew little. I wonder how the Tian Nan region fares now.”
Muttering to himself, the scholar—now revealed as Han Li, returned to the human world—rose leisurely.
Though his split soul carried only a fraction of his power, in this realm, he was akin to an invincible peak Nascent Soul cultivator.
Glancing at his dust-covered robes and touching his face, Han Li frowned.
With a swift hand seal, a ripple of cyan light enveloped him. When it faded, a plainly dressed young man in green robes stood in his place.
Having restored his original appearance, Han Li took a step forward, transforming into a streak of azure light that pierced the sky.
…
Outside a massive city in the Great Jin Empire, millions of soldiers swarmed like ants, scaling towering siege ladders to assault the walls.
Arrows rained down from the battlements as defenders thrust spears at the climbers.
The ground ran red with blood, and the air thickened with the stench of death.
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