“This is…” Han Li’s gaze swept over the ground pattern and the armored warriors before involuntarily following the direction of the silver halberd to look up into the sky.
To his surprise, the originally azure sky now revealed a golden light sphere at an indeterminable height, its radiance swirling slowly, exuding an air of profound mystery.
This sight immediately reminded Han Li of the existence of a “spatial node.” Even if the light sphere wasn’t a true spatial node, it was undoubtedly something akin to a spatial rift.
Staring at the seemingly small golden sphere, blue light flickered in Han Li’s eyes as a trace of doubt and astonishment surfaced. Could this place lead to some other mysterious realm?
After a long while, he withdrew his gaze, having found nothing else of note, and examined the nine armored warriors several more times.
These warriors were clad in seamless silver armor, their entire bodies gleaming with a metallic sheen. Yet, whether it was their armor or the halberds they held, they exuded an ancient simplicity characteristic of primordial artifacts. Instead of densely inscribed arrays, only a few faint golden runes adorned key areas.
These golden runes were extraordinarily profound—clearly, they were Golden Seal Script.
Han Li narrowed his eyes slightly before suddenly raising his arm and flicking a finger toward one of the armored warriors.
With a soft *pfft*, a finger-thick sword qi shot out, vanishing in a flash as it aimed straight for the warrior’s shoulder, as if intending to pierce through without hesitation.
But then, something astonishing happened.
With a *bang*, the previously statue-like warrior moved its silver halberd in a flash of silver light, slashing the green sword qi apart in an instant.
Han Li’s expression changed. He retreated several steps in a blur, waving a hand before him. A layer of gray mist materialized in front of him as a defensive barrier, his demeanor turning extremely cautious.
Yet, the next moment, the silver warrior retracted its halberd, resuming its original skyward stance, motionless once more.
“Puppets!” Han Li exhaled deeply, muttering under his breath, his expression relaxing slightly.
Regardless of how formidable these puppets were, the fact that they could still move after so many years without a controller was astonishing in itself. However, confirming that these armored warriors lacked sentience eased Han Li’s mind somewhat.
Uncontrolled puppets, no matter how powerful, were mere inanimate objects—nothing to fear.
Dismissing the warriors, Han Li lowered his head to scrutinize the enormous starry pattern on the ground.
At first glance, it appeared ordinary, but after staring longer, the entire star map suddenly blurred, as if coming to life.
The surroundings distorted, and in an instant, he found himself beneath a vast starry sky, immersed in an unfathomably profound alternate world.
The once-static sun and moon now emitted golden and silver radiance, illuminating the countless stars around them, which in turn shone with cold white light, orbiting the celestial bodies in a rhythmic dance.
The sun and moon themselves expanded and contracted, rising and falling in an endless cycle, as if time itself flowed like a tranquil river—slow yet fleeting.
Han Li watched this evolution of cosmic laws in silence, his mind empty, unwilling and unable to think, passively experiencing the passage of time—decades, centuries, millennia…
In what felt like an instant, tens of thousands of years had passed.
Suddenly, a jolt ran through him as a surge of cool energy erupted from his dantian, circulating through his meridians and reaching his head.
Stimulated by this icy spiritual energy, Han Li shuddered and let out a soft groan, finally snapping back to reality and recalling everything about himself.
Almost simultaneously, the entire starry sky seemed to sense something, shattering into fragments of light before vanishing entirely.
When Han Li fully regained his senses, he was still standing by the platform, staring at the star map on the ground. The eons he had experienced in his daze had, in reality, lasted mere moments.
Han Li inhaled sharply, forcibly tearing his gaze away from the star map.
This star map contained an illusionary formation far beyond his comprehension—so potent that even his formidable spiritual sense had been effortlessly drawn in without resistance.
Had the Great Development Art not automatically activated, pulling his consciousness back, he might have been trapped in that illusion forever, standing there until his bones turned to dust without realizing it.
Yet, despite escaping, the experience had felt so real that the conflicting sensations of eternity and reality, perception and reason, now clashed violently within him.
Even with his extraordinary mental fortitude, Han Li’s brows furrowed deeply, his expression turning unusually strange.
He closed his eyes, circulating the Great Development Art within his body to gradually stabilize the turbulence in his mind. After an indeterminate amount of time, he finally managed to suppress the overwhelming dissonance and reopened his eyes.
This time, he dared not look at the star map again. Standing motionless for a long while, he sighed deeply, his expression gradually returning to normal.
He vaguely sensed that while the experience had been perilous, it had also tempered his willpower, yielding immense benefits—even his spiritual sense seemed slightly stronger than before.
Could it be that this star map wasn’t merely an illusionary formation but a special restriction designed to temper one’s mental fortitude? And if the star map was this profound, then the object at the platform’s center must also hold significance.
With this thought, Han Li turned his attention to the emerald-green armchair at the platform’s center.
The chair was crafted from neither metal nor wood, yet its entire body shimmered with a translucent jade-green luster.
Suddenly, Han Li’s eyes locked onto the chair, his face betraying shock.
Above the previously empty chair now hovered a cluster of silver script—barely a hundred characters, glowing faintly and composed entirely of Silver Kui Script.
With his eidetic memory, Han Li memorized the text instantly. Yet, he had no idea how it had appeared.
Moments later, the silver script shattered into motes of light, sinking into the chair below before vanishing without a trace.
Han Li’s gaze remained fixed on the chair, though his mind focused on the memorized incantation. Soon, his expression shifted slightly.
The incantation turned out to be an extremely simple activation chant—lacking context, explanation, or any annotations. It was utterly bizarre!
Han Li hesitated, his eyes flickering between the nine armored warriors, the golden light sphere above, the star map below, and the green chair. After pondering the incantation, he stroked his chin, a contemplative gleam in his eyes as a vague conjecture formed in his mind.
Abruptly, Han Li formed a hand seal, his body erupting with golden light as scales emerged across his skin—he had reactivated the Vajra Devilish Arts.
With a low shout, he shook his shoulders, and a golden shadow shot out from behind him, transforming into his previously vanished Dharma Form.
Han Li then slapped the crown of his head, releasing a streak of black light that shot into the golden figure—his second Nascent Soul, “Little Black.”
Once the Nascent Soul merged with the Dharma Form, one of its three heads suddenly gained a pair of pitch-black eyes, gleaming with human-like intelligence.
In a flash of golden light, the three-headed, six-armed golden figure, standing two zhang tall like a demonic deity, descended to the ground, firmly positioning itself before Han Li.
Seeing this, Han Li smiled faintly before his figure blurred into a wisp of green smoke, vanishing from sight.
The next moment, his form reappeared thirty zhang away from the platform, hovering in midair with his hands clasped behind his back, motionless.
He had noticed earlier that upon entering this space within the screen, all flight-restricting formations on the ground had vanished. Thus, he now floated confidently at a low altitude, his gaze fixed intently on the platform.
At his mental command, the golden figure’s six arms suddenly moved, forming a series of intricate hand seals as an archaic, cryptic chant spilled from the lips of the now-animated head.
The chant was slow but precise—the exact same Silver Kui Script incantation that had appeared above the chair. Though Han Li had never encountered it before, such a simple activation chant posed no challenge to a cultivator of his level.
However, given the bizarre nature of this pocket realm, he dared not risk his true body to test the unknown incantation.
The second Nascent Soul, attached to the indestructible Dharma Form, was far more resilient against unforeseen dangers. Moreover, he trusted that the effects of the chant would be identical whether recited by his main body or the Nascent Soul—making it the perfect substitute.
The chant echoed across the plaza, and in moments, the second Nascent Soul completed the recitation. Yet, the stone platform remained silent, showing no signs of change.
The golden figure stood motionless on the platform, expressionless.
Han Li’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his gaze.
After a brief pause, he willed the second Nascent Soul to recite the incantation again.
Thus, within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the incantation was repeated three times.
Yet, even after the third recitation, neither the nine silver warriors nor the golden light sphere showed any reaction—as if the chant had no effect whatsoever.
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