Under Han Li’s gaze, which flickered with blue light, the crystal-like orb flashed with white radiance and vanished from within the green mist.
Even with the power of the Brightsight Spirit Eyes, it seemed utterly impossible to track its movement.
A chill ran down Han Li’s spine, and he immediately expanded his divine sense, enveloping the surrounding area within a radius of several zhang.
He had no intention of allowing anyone to approach him unnoticed and turn the tables with a sneak attack. Though the likelihood was slim, he had to remain cautious.
Han Li tilted his head slightly, glancing at the two women, Yuanyao and Mei, who stood nearby, then turned his gaze toward the distant battlefield, tightening his grip on the thunder pearl in his hand.
Despite having weathered countless storms, his heart now pounded uncontrollably.
Han Li knew all too well that if he revealed himself to rescue them, he would have only one chance to strike.
If he failed, this hall would become his burial ground, and over a millennium of arduous cultivation would be reduced to nothing.
The sensation of teetering on the brink of life and death sent his heart into a frenzied rhythm.
Meanwhile, in the distance, Mu Qing and the white-haired beauty had already launched their assault on the black formation in the sky.
The seven metal puppets summoned by the blood-robed man stood guard before them, acting as shields. The purple-blooded puppet itself remained motionless beside them, its six eyes shifting slightly.
Suddenly, from the dark clouds conjured by the white-haired beauty, an ear-piercing shriek erupted as a skeletal ghost claw emerged, spinning violently.
The claw reached into the void, releasing clusters of gray orbs, each the size of an egg, which surged toward the sky.
As for Mu Qing, the surrounding flowers and grass spiraled around her before merging into her body.
Amidst a dazzling radiance, she slowly opened her mouth and spat out a verdant beam of light.
The beam was an intense emerald, thick as amber, exuding an eerie aura.
The two attacks vanished in a flash, arriving directly beneath the black formation.
The gray orbs expanded and contracted unpredictably, while the emerald beam struck the center of the formation soundlessly.
High above, the two humanoid Nether Lightning Beasts, their eyes gleaming with malice, gestured wildly, activating the black formation.
A thunderous boom resounded as a fierce black wind erupted from the formation’s core.
The wind was violent as blades, shimmering with crystalline light as countless black sand particles swirled within.
The moment the wind and sand clashed with the beam and orbs, explosions erupted, and bursts of light flickered beneath the formation.
Moments later, a gray-green radiance emerged, halting the descent of the black formation.
The two forces locked in a stalemate.
But as the black wind continued to pour forth, the black sand thickened, pressing down on the gray-green radiance with a deafening hum, gradually forcing it downward.
Mu Qing’s expression flickered, and with a wave of her hand, a small branch appeared in her grasp.
The branch, no longer than three chi, bore tender green leaves, brimming with spiritual energy and showing no signs of withering.
She tossed it into the air, where it burst into a sphere of green light, transforming into a lush, crystalline tree—its leaves dense and shimmering as if carved from jade.
Mu Qing’s face turned solemn as she muttered an incantation.
The tree’s trunk swelled rapidly, its branches stretching outward before spinning violently, releasing countless emerald leaf-shaped shadows that joined the assault in the sky.
The spectacle was awe-inspiring!
“Fellow Daoist Mu, your powers are truly remarkable!” came the delighted voice of the white-haired beauty from within the dark clouds.
“Hmph, Fellow Daoist Lan, surely you have more tricks up your sleeve. I refuse to believe this is all you can muster!” Mu Qing retorted coldly, her gaze fixed on the sky.
A low chuckle echoed from the clouds before the howls of eight Ghost Kings erupted. Yin energy churned and condensed at the center, ghostly figures flickering amidst a cacophony of wails.
Moments later, as the clouds dispersed, a colossal figure emerged.
Standing nearly seventy to eighty zhang tall, it wore ancient black armor studded with silver patterns and wielded a massive hammer.
The hammer was equally bizarre—jet-black with eight ghastly white skulls embedded in its surface. The skulls writhed, their gaping mouths spewing black mist, a sight that sent chills down the spine.
This was the white-haired beauty’s enlarged form, and the eight skulls were none other than the transformed Ghost Kings.
Mu Qing’s expression shifted slightly.
Before she could speak, the white-haired beauty’s face darkened. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled the hammer skyward, forming a strange hand seal.
The hammer spun midair as the eight skulls shrieked, spewing forth rolling green flames that surged upward.
Yin fire and emerald shadows intertwined, shrouding the sky completely. The black formation, on the verge of breaking through, was once again held at bay, even showing signs of being pushed back.
Yet the two Nether Lightning Beasts remained unfazed. They let out sharp cries, their bodies swelling further before raising all four arms toward the sky.
With a series of thunderclaps, countless silver threads reappeared, coiling around their limbs before shooting upward as massive arcs, vanishing into the black formation.
Instantly, the formation roared to life, flashing violently as it expanded by half, unleashing several times more wind and sand.
The black formation regained dominance, pressing downward once more.
The white-haired beauty and Mu Qing paled, hastily redoubling their efforts.
One spat a mouthful of essence blood, while the other let out a furious roar, channeling all their spiritual power into their artifacts.
The emerald tree and eerie hammer intensified their attacks, barely holding the formation at bay—though it still descended inch by inch.
The two women’s expressions twisted in alarm.
The formation’s power was beyond their expectations.
Mu Qing took a deep breath before turning to the purple-blooded puppet and shouting, “Fellow Daoist Dihai, lend your strength! If this thing descends, we’re in grave danger!”
The blood-robed man within the puppet remained silent, but the seven metal puppets standing guard suddenly shot toward the two Nether Lightning Beasts like streaks of light.
Clearly, the old monster Dihai understood that while the black formation was formidable, its power would wane without the beasts’ direct control.
The puppets didn’t need to engage the beasts directly—only distract them momentarily.
As the seven streaks of light closed in, the two humanoid beasts swept their four sinister gazes over them, altering their hand seals.
A massive black hole, ten zhang in diameter, materialized behind them.
The beasts split into two, hovering on either side of the hole as a dark radiance erupted from its center, sweeping all seven puppets into its depths.
A horrifying sight unfolded.
The puppets vanished in a flash of black light within the radiance.
Moments later, they reappeared at the hole’s edge, ensnared in swirling light before being dragged inside, disappearing without a trace.
Mu Qing and the others gasped.
The two beasts cackled triumphantly before dispersing the hole with a wave of their clawed hands.
A furious roar erupted from within the purple-blooded puppet as the blood-robed man’s phantom reappeared atop its shoulder.
The loss of his puppets had enraged him beyond measure.
Without a word, he raised a hand to his head, summoning a rolling tide of blood that condensed into a colossal sphere before him.
He seemed poised to hurl it at the beasts when Mu Qing suddenly whipped her head toward a nearby spot, snarling, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
Her actions outpaced her words as she flicked her sleeve, unleashing a barrage of green threads that pierced the void.
A soft “Huh?” echoed before a puff of green mist exploded with a faint pop.
The threads riddled the mist but found nothing.
Then, an almost imperceptible spatial ripple stirred above Mu Qing as a crystalline orb materialized.
The instant it appeared, it spun rapidly, emitting a blinding white light that forced everyone to shut their eyes.
A crisp chime rang out as the orb distorted within the radiance, splitting into two figures—one milky white, the other pale gold.
The golden figure raised a hand, sending a silver streak hurtling toward Mu Qing’s head.
The streak resolved into a gleaming silver guillotine—the Five Dragons Guillotine!
The golden figure was none other than the golden-armored puppet.
Though the white light had forced Mu Qing’s eyes shut, her divine sense had already mapped everything within dozens of zhang.
Calmly, she pointed both hands at the descending guillotine.
Specks of green light shimmered around it as countless threads materialized, some entangling the blade while others wove into a green veil above her.
Mu Qing had long prepared these hidden spirit threads, explaining why the golden puppet’s ambush had failed despite its companion’s stealth.
Yet the Five Dragons Guillotine’s might surpassed her expectations.
With a sweep of cold light, the threads binding it shattered instantly.
The blade plunged into the green veil without hesitation.
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