Upon seeing this scene, Huoyue Ren’s expression changed. He immediately intensified the assault with his two treasures while muttering incantations, seemingly preparing to unleash another formidable technique.
But at that moment, Han Li’s calm voice echoed once more:
“Since you’ve fallen into my sword formation, if you wish to leave, allow me to personally send you off!”
As soon as the words fell, the lotus opposite suddenly dispersed, transforming into a vast expanse of emerald radiance. The massive silver blade and the golden flood dragon shadow plunged into it, vanishing without a trace, as if swallowed by the sea, leaving not even a ripple.
Huoyue Ren’s heart sank, and his advancing figure involuntarily halted.
At that instant, the emerald radiance before him suddenly flared brilliantly, then surged back like a towering wave.
Startled, Huoyue Ren immediately unleashed the spell he had been preparing.
A swirling red light enveloped his body, and countless palm-sized crimson blades eerily materialized. With a slight motion, they began spinning wildly around him.
A sharp whistling sound filled the air!
In the blink of an eye, a crimson hurricane of dancing blades formed, shielding him within.
Seeing this, Huoyue Ren finally relaxed slightly.
The next moment, the emerald light swept over him, silent as a mirage.
But when he focused his gaze, his heart clenched again. After the emerald light faded, the scenery around him blurred, and he found himself standing on a lush green grassland.
Tender grass no taller than a few inches stretched in all directions, dotted with wildflowers of various colors. In the distance, the faint chirping of birds could be heard. The idyllic scene was so enchanting that it unwittingly soothed his mind and relaxed his body.
“An illusion!”
Huoyue Ren was no ordinary cultivator. His dazed expression lasted only a moment before he snapped back to reality, exclaiming in alarm.
He hurriedly looked up at the sky.
The azure expanse stretched endlessly, with only a few white clouds in the distance. The grassland seemed boundless. Beneath his feet, the ground felt unnaturally soft, and the rich scent of vegetation filled his nostrils. There was no flaw to be detected—it was as if he truly stood in an endless prairie.
“Break!”
With a grim expression, Huoyue Ren bit the tip of his tongue and raised both hands outward.
The crimson blades around him paused mid-whirl before shooting out in all directions like a storm.
White streaks appeared in the air as the razor-sharp blades seemed to slice through the void itself.
Under the relentless assault, the surroundings shimmered with faint light before the scenery blurred once more. The grassland and sky twisted and vanished.
Huoyue Ren was overjoyed. Breaking such an intricate illusion so easily was beyond his expectations.
But just as his smile appeared, the distorted scenery erupted in a blinding emerald glow.
The alien cultivator instinctively narrowed his eyes, but red light flashed around his body as countless blades reappeared, shielding him once more.
However, as the light dimmed, his expression turned grim.
The scenery shifted again—now, towering trees, each dozens of feet tall, surrounded him. Their dense foliage blotted out the sky, plunging him into what seemed like an ancient forest.
Clearly, he had failed to escape the illusion and had fallen back into its grasp.
This realization filled Huoyue Ren with both shock and fury.
But before he could react, the ground beneath him trembled violently. The massive trees swayed precariously before toppling toward him, their colossal shadows crashing down like a storm.
Panicked, Huoyue Ren instinctively unleashed his blades, slashing wildly at the falling timber.
In moments, the trees were reduced to splinters before they could reach him.
Just as he prepared to shatter the illusion again, a dull *thud* echoed. One of the shadows struck by his blades remained intact—unfazed by the crimson slashes.
The shadow then expanded several times before plummeting downward.
It was a black mountain, over a hundred feet tall.
“Ah!”
Huoyue Ren barely had time to spit out a crimson mist from his mouth.
Within the mist, something indistinct flickered.
But as the mist met the descending mountain, it merely revealed a crimson wooden board covered in floating runes.
Despite its power, the board was no match for the crushing weight of the Black Magnetic Mountain.
The black peak shattered the crimson light effortlessly and continued its descent, reaching Huoyue Ren in an instant.
“No!”
With a final cry, Huoyue Ren was crushed beneath the mountain.
The illusion shattered, revealing the original valley. But now, Huoyue Ren stood on empty air before plummeting under the mountain’s weight.
A deafening crash echoed as the Black Magnetic Mountain carved a deep crater into the ground.
Huoyue Ren was reduced to pulp.
Despite being a Void Refining cultivator like Han Li, his physical body was surprisingly frail.
Though he possessed far greater abilities than what he had shown, his earlier injuries from Han Li’s lightning bead and puppet ambush had left him severely weakened.
Trapped in Han Li’s Spring Dawn Sword Formation’s illusions, he fell victim to the Black Magnetic Mountain’s deceptive strike, losing his body in an instant.
Yet, as his corpse lay beneath the mountain, a red glow flickered. An egg-sized orb shot out, attempting to burrow into the earth.
Suddenly, gray light erupted from the mountain’s base, ensnaring the orb mid-flight.
With a flicker, the orb was flung back to the surface.
At the same time, Han Li appeared atop the mountain, his hand beckoning.
The orb flew into his grasp.
Examining it, Han Li saw a tiny figure inside—identical to Huoyue Ren, save for a faint horn on its forehead.
“So, you *are* connected to the Horned Race. I wonder—are you truly of the Huoyue Clan, or the Horned Race?” Han Li mused, his voice icy.
The figure inside remained silent, eyes shut.
“You sought the jade box in my possession. You must know something. If you cooperate, I might…”
“Spare my soul?” the figure interrupted, opening its eyes coldly.
“No. But I can spare you the agony of soul-searching.”
“Then I have nothing to say. If you attempt to search my mind, don’t bother. A Saint-tier expert has placed restrictions on my consciousness. Even if another Saint-tier tried, my soul would simply self-destruct.”
Han Li frowned, studying the orb for a moment before crushing it between his palms.
Golden lightning crackled, reducing the orb and its occupant to ashes.
Uncertain of the truth, Han Li had no time to linger. To prevent any tracking spells, he ensured no trace of Huoyue Ren’s soul remained.
Unbeknownst to Han Li, the moment Huoyue Ren’s soul perished, atop the floating silver island above Green Light City, a silver-robed elder in a grand hall let out a surprised hum.
“Brother Tu, what is it?” another silver-robed man inquired.
“The restriction I placed on Hongmie’s soul has vanished. It seems he has fallen,” the elder replied, frowning as he summoned a wooden tablet. Its central red crystal lay shattered.
“Was his identity exposed? Was he ambushed?”
“Perhaps. Given his strength, only a Saint-tier expert could have slain him so easily. Or perhaps one infiltrated the city unnoticed before our arrival.”
“If so, we must investigate personally. I still don’t understand—what treasure warrants sending those like us, half-step Saints, to retrieve it?”
The elder stroked his beard. “Regardless, we cannot afford delays.”
The middle-aged man sighed, resigned.
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