Chapter 1741: Secret Cave of the Rong Clan

High above an unnamed great canyon within a mountain range, a seemingly ordinary white cloud drifted leisurely.

Hidden within the cloud were two furry Rong tribesmen, whispering to each other in secrecy.

“Brother Xuan, it’s been over a day since those Blaze tribesmen left. Why haven’t they returned yet? Could something have gone wrong?” asked one Rong tribesman with a green birthmark on his forehead, his voice laced with concern.

“Something wrong? What could possibly go wrong? The two fleeing Tianyun people were severely weakened, and four Blaze tribesmen pursued them. There shouldn’t be any issues. Most likely, those two Tianyun people used some secret technique to push their limits, which is why it’s taking longer,” replied the other Rong tribesman dismissively, clad in crimson armor.

“Hmm, those two Tianyun people were indeed skilled in strange escape techniques. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have escaped that day,” the first Rong tribesman conceded with a nod.

“However, it’s unexpected that the final part of the Golden Seal Script incantation in the secret cave requires multiple Guanghan Tokens to break the restriction. Now we have no choice but to wait for other teams of our tribe to arrive. Who knows if two Guanghan Tokens will be enough? We might need three or even four. If that’s the case, we might only obtain an incomplete technique,” the armored Rong tribesman sighed.

“The restriction on the final part of the Golden Seal Script is vastly different from the earlier sections—clearly the most crucial part. Without it, no matter how profound this celestial technique is, it would be nearly impossible to cultivate successfully. The pity is, none of us can read the Golden Seal Script, the divine script of the True Immortal Realm. Otherwise, we could have studied the earlier sections to gain some insight,” the green-birthmarked Rong tribesman said gloomily.

“Since it’s a technique recorded in Golden Seal Script, how could we possibly give up so easily? The trouble is, the nearest team is four or five days away. If we truly need more Guanghan Tokens, we might be stuck here for months. If that happens, our original plan to retreat and advance in cultivation will be disrupted,” the armored Rong tribesman said, his expression darkening.

“It is indeed troublesome. But if this Golden Seal Script technique proves truly valuable, it might strengthen our entire tribe. Compared to that, other matters are insignificant,” the green-birthmarked Rong tribesman said slowly, frowning.

“That may be so, but the Guanghan Realm is our best chance to reach the Saint Stage. I don’t want to miss this opportunity,” the armored Rong tribesman grumbled.

“At this point, there’s nothing we can do but hope the other teams receive our message and deliver the Guanghan Tokens as soon as possible. It’s unbelievable—we’ve always thought of the Guanghan Token merely as a key to enter the Guanghan Realm. Who knew it could also be used to break restrictions within this realm? We must report this to the elders so they can pay attention to this in future openings of the Guanghan Realm…”

And so, the two Rong tribesmen chatted idly within the cloud. Yet, from outside, not a single word could be heard.

The cloud they hid in was actually a mystical restriction, and these two were the Rong tribe’s sentinels.

Unbeknownst to them, as they spoke, an undetectable shadow hovered a hundred zhang above the cloud, scrutinizing them brazenly. The cloud-like restriction seemed powerless to block this figure’s gaze.

This figure was none other than Han Li, who had spent half a day finally arriving here. Though the cloud restriction was quite profound, Han Li’s spiritual eye technique allowed him to detect the two foreign tribesmen from afar. He immediately activated the Taiyi Transformation Talisman, turning his body ethereal before slowly approaching.

With his far superior divine sense, Han Li easily overheard their conversation.

Relieved to learn the Rong tribesmen hadn’t succeeded yet, his expression flickered slightly upon hearing that Guanghan Tokens were needed to break the cave’s restrictions. But he quickly regained his composure.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he gazed deeply downward before silently descending into the canyon.

The two foreign tribesmen below, despite being so close, remained oblivious to his presence. If he wished, he could easily eliminate them.

However, considering they likely had life-linked tokens that would alert the others in the cave if killed, he dismissed the thought.

After all, his purpose here wasn’t to kill. Until he saw the Golden Seal Script technique, he had no intention of alarming the Rong tribesmen.

With these thoughts, Han Li drifted deeper into the canyon, his eyes glowing blue as he scanned the walls.

His gaze suddenly fixed on a section of the cliff—yellowish in color, with a few cracks on its surface, appearing utterly ordinary.

But from a certain angle, those cracks formed the shape of the Big Dipper. A faint smile crossed his face as he immediately propelled himself toward the wall.

With a soft *puff*, a faint spiritual light shimmered on the wall’s surface, and Han Li passed through without resistance. The next moment, he found himself in an exceptionally wide passage.

Embedded in the walls were fist-sized crystals emitting a soft white glow. Ahead, about thirty zhang away, stood a half-open cyan wooden door—twenty zhang tall, its surface pitted and partially broken, as if forced open by brute strength.

Han Li narrowed his eyes at the sight.

The edges of the giant door shimmered with golden light, inscribed with faint golden runes. Though most were incomplete, he recognized them instantly—Golden Seal Script.

On either side of the door sat two robed Rong tribesmen, one clad in white, the other in black, their eyes lightly closed in meditation.

Though both were covered in fur, one was snow-white, the other pitch-black—an eerie contrast.

The Rong tribe was indeed cautious, stationing guards even here.

Han Li frowned at the three-to-four-zhang gap between the two.

Though confident in the Taiyi Transformation Talisman and his enhanced cultivation, slipping past two beings of his own level carried risk. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t be detected.

But hesitation was brief. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and floated silently toward the giant door.

Having come this far, turning back wasn’t an option. If discovered, he’d simply eliminate the two and force his way in.

Not the best plan, but under the circumstances, it was the only choice.

Even if the Rong tribe had numbers, Han Li wasn’t truly afraid of a prolonged battle. His only concern was that, cornered, they might destroy the Golden Seal Script—a loss he couldn’t afford.

After all, with celestial techniques, even missing a few characters could render the Soul Refinement Technique unworkable. Though unlikely, the risk existed.

If he acted swiftly—even resorting to the Profound Heavenly Blade Fragment and his Gold Devouring Beetles—he was confident he could eliminate the Rong tribesmen before they had a chance to react.

Weighing the risks and rewards in an instant, Han Li advanced toward the black-and-white Rong tribesmen.

Thirty zhang, twenty zhang, ten zhang…

In the blink of an eye, his ethereal form reached the space between them.

Just then, the black-robed Rong tribesman’s eyelids twitched—his eyes snapping open, sharp and alert.

Han Li’s heart clenched, but he froze instantly, not moving a muscle.

“What is it, fellow Daoist? Did you sense something?” The white-robed Rong tribesman, sensing his companion’s movement, also opened his eyes, scanning the area in confusion.

The black-robed tribesman didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he released his divine sense, sweeping past Han Li’s ethereal form and scanning the entire passage before retracting it.

“Nothing. Just a sudden unease—probably my imagination. Lately, my meditation has been restless. I don’t know why,” the black-robed tribesman said slowly.

“Is that so? That’s not unusual. Since entering the Guanghan Realm, I’ve felt the same. Likely, we’ve been too tense these days,” the white-robed tribesman chuckled.

“Perhaps you’re right,” the black-robed tribesman murmured, frowning slightly.

Yet, in the next moment, his sleeve flicked—countless silver threads shot out, filling the passage like a net of gleaming needles.

Han Li’s pupils constricted, but he remained still, allowing the threads to pass through him.

A bizarre scene unfolded.

With a series of soft *pops*, the silver threads pierced through his ethereal form harmlessly, embedding themselves into the ground—revealing themselves as inch-long silver needles.

The two Rong tribesmen stared at the empty passage, their expressions unreadable.