“Then I, Han Li, shall thank both fellow Daoists for yielding.” Han Li clasped his fists with a smile.
“This is but a trivial matter. Now that the restriction has been broken, we should hurry inside to search for the treasures. As long as we find the items Master and Senior Duan seek, we will naturally reap great rewards upon leaving,” Liu Shui’er said solemnly.
With that, she stowed away the gray banner and transformed into a streak of blue light, shooting toward the hole below. Not daring to delay, Shi Kun followed closely as a yellow streak.
Han Li, however, appeared unhurried. He first scanned the surroundings with narrowed eyes, ensuring no issues remained, before leisurely descending.
By then, Liu Shui’er and Shi Kun had already vanished into the hole with flashes of light.
As Han Li flew into the massive milky-white hole, clusters of dazzling radiance suddenly emerged around him, swirling toward his body.
Startled, he activated a shimmering cyan barrier to shield himself.
The radiant lights paused briefly before coalescing into runes of varying sizes, forming a small five-colored array around him—right at its center.
With a resonant hum, spatial fluctuations rippled from the array.
Seeing this, Han Li relaxed slightly, clasping his hands behind his back without attempting to disrupt the formation.
Sure enough, the array erupted in a burst of five-colored light.
A brief dizziness later, Han Li vanished from the array. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing on an unfamiliar platform.
The entire platform was constructed from massive bluestones, its surface adorned with simple, rugged patterns that exuded a primitive aura.
Beneath his feet lay a teleportation array barely two zhang in diameter, with a descending staircase nearby leading off the platform.
After a cursory glance at the array and platform, Han Li surveyed his surroundings.
He seemed to be in another realm—a cloudless azure sky with a blazing sun, lush fields of exotic flora swaying in gentle breezes that carried floral fragrances. Yet, none of this compared to the striking sight of a small mountain several hundred zhang tall near the platform.
Though not towering, the mountain spanned over ten li, its sheer cliffs resembling knife-cut precipices. Its pale-white slopes culminated in a dazzling silver peak, crowned by a vast violet palace that dominated the summit.
Han Li scrutinized the palace for a long moment before shifting his gaze to the grassy base of the staircase.
There, Liu Shui’er and Shi Kun stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the distant palace.
Han Li’s expression flickered as he prepared to leap off the platform. Yet, the moment his feet left the ground, an immense force slammed him back down with a thunderous impact that shook the entire platform, as though his body had suddenly become unbearably heavy.
He waved his arms experimentally but felt nothing unusual.
A fleeting look of surprise crossed his face before realization dawned. With a flash of cyan light, he slowly levitated.
But as soon as he rose a mere foot, an overwhelming pressure bore down on him. Though he steadied himself quickly, his expression darkened.
Undeterred, he continued ascending with his formidable physique. At two feet, his body trembled, and the cyan light around him flickered violently.
Though his expression remained neutral, his brows furrowed. Activating his azure pupils, he saw faint yellow strands coiled around his body—unaffected by his protective aura.
From below, Shi Kun turned with a wry smile. “Brother Han, you’ve noticed it too. The flight restriction here is unusual—each foot of altitude doubles the pressure. I can barely manage seven or eight feet before collapsing.”
“Doubling per foot? Such a tyrannical restriction. Even a Saint Race existence would struggle to endure heights beyond a few zhang,” Han Li remarked before landing again, the yellow strands vanishing instantly.
“With Brother Shi’s physique, seven or eight feet is his limit. For ordinary Upper Race cultivators like us, three or four feet is likely the ceiling,” Liu Shui’er added, her gaze still locked on the palace.
Han Li’s expression grew solemn, but after a brief pause, he descended the staircase to join them.
“That palace must house the treasures. Why hesitate?” he asked bluntly.
“With additional restrictions here, caution is warranted,” Liu Shui’er replied gravely, finally tearing her eyes away.
“Restrictions imply treasures. Flight bans are usually low-risk,” Han Li countered.
“By conventional logic, perhaps. But if this place belongs to a true immortal, conventional logic hardly applies,” she sighed.
“If we don’t take risks, we’ll never obtain the treasures. Why else venture here?” Han Li’s eyes glinted sharply.
“Well said. The Horned Race remnants lurking nearby leave us no time to dawdle,” Shi Kun agreed, seeing no immediate danger.
“Since both of you insist, I have no objections. Let’s proceed,” Liu Shui’er conceded after a conflicted pause.
With her agreement, Shi Kun laughed and flicked his sleeve, releasing a black iron wolf puppet. Yet, the moment it left his sleeve, it crashed heavily to the ground.
“The restriction affects artifacts too!” Liu Shui’er gasped, her face paling. Without artifacts, she’d have to rely solely on her magic and techniques.
Han Li grew warier, but Shi Kun merely chuckled and strode boldly toward the mountain.
With artifacts unusable, his physical prowess became a lethal advantage.
Han Li followed with a faint smile, and Liu Shui’er trailed silently.
A near-vertical path of white stone steps, each a zhang wide, wound up the mountain like a coiled serpent—a daunting sight.
Though flight was impossible, their formidable physiques rendered the climb trivial.
Yet, the moment Shi Kun stepped onto the first stair, his pace slowed noticeably.
Han Li, observing this, understood the moment his own foot touched the steps: an inexplicable force weighed his legs down as though bearing mountains. Worse, each step increased the burden slightly.
Though negligible over a few steps, the cumulative effect over thousands was terrifying.
Fortunately, standing still gradually lessened the pressure.
Unfazed, Han Li pressed upward. With his physique honed by the True Devilish Sacred Art, even ordinary Saint Race beings paled in comparison.
He doubted Shi Kun could match his pace without rest, and Liu Shui’er—lacking physical prowess—would surely struggle.
After ascending a dozen steps, Han Li glanced back.
Liu Shui’er stood frozen on the first step, her flickering eyes burning with frustration.
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