The infant of the man with the arched eyebrows saw the black fissure appear and immediately flicked his fingers toward the black bell five or six more times in midair.
With each flick, his face paled further, while the black fissure abruptly widened. After several chimes, the fissure had expanded into a semicircular opening, filled with swirling black mist and howling gusts of yin wind, making it impossible to see anything inside.
“Keke!”
An eerie, bizarre laugh suddenly echoed from within.
Han Li’s pupils contracted as golden light erupted from his body, and his Magnetic Divine Light surged by half, shielding him tightly. Facing a treasure of the Spirit Treasure grade, he dared not underestimate it.
At that moment, something strange occurred.
Black threads suddenly materialized around Han Li, swirling around his body but making no move to attack. Before Han Li could comprehend what kind of spell this was, the black threads abruptly condensed and transformed into a dark formation, trapping him within.
“Not good!”
Han Li’s heart lurched as gray light flashed from his body, sweeping toward the formation. But it was already too late.
The black formation shimmered, and Han Li felt the world spin around him. In an instant, he, along with the giant cauldron and golden lotus, vanished from the spot.
The next moment, he staggered and found himself in a murky, eerie space, surrounded by countless shadowy figures and the wails of ghosts. He had been forcibly pulled into the black fissure.
At first, Han Li was stunned, but then the corners of his lips curled upward—he wasn’t frightened but instead laughed.
Meanwhile, outside, the infant of the arched-eyebrow man urgently activated the black bell again. With each chime, the fissure’s entrance slowly closed, eventually shrinking into a faint black line over ten zhang long, floating motionlessly in the air.
The infant then flashed back into its physical body.
The arched-eyebrow man opened his eyes, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
The black fissure was a space uniquely opened by the Thousand Soul Bell. Though named “Thousand Souls,” it contained no fewer than eight to ten thousand vengeful spirits, all refined from the souls of particularly vicious demonic beasts during their lifetimes. These spirits had undergone special sacrificial refinement, making them no less ferocious than they had been in life.
One of the main spirits within the Thousand Soul Bell had even been a mid-Deity Transformation-stage spiritual beast in its past life. By sheer chance, his master had refined it into the treasure’s primary spirit.
With the support of the other spirits, this primary spirit’s powers could double. Moreover, the space itself had unique restrictions—any cultivator pulled inside, unless they were a spirit themselves, would find their magic power significantly suppressed.
Even a late-Deity Transformation-stage cultivator trapped within would likely face dire straits.
Outside the light barrier, the golden-armored cultivator stared at the faint black line in the air, his eyes flickering, but he took no action.
The arched-eyebrow man simply sat cross-legged in midair, waiting for the vengeful spirits in the ghostly space to devour Han Li and end the battle.
After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the black bell in the air suddenly trembled violently, emitting waves of eerie black light. Strange, fluctuating hums echoed from within.
Though the arched-eyebrow man couldn’t mentally connect with the treasure, he knew something was wrong—yet he had no idea what.
With a mournful chime, the massive phantom released by the bell shattered into strands of black mist, which swiftly retreated into the bell itself, vanishing in an instant.
“Impossible! The primary spirit has been destroyed!” The arched-eyebrow man finally realized what had happened, his face twisting in shock.
At that moment, a black streak silently pierced through a point in the void above him, opening a fist-sized hole.
A flash of spiritual light, and a green streak shot out from the hole, transforming into a human figure floating in midair.
The arched-eyebrow man, a mid-Deity Transformation-stage cultivator, sensed something and jerked his head up.
But before he could react, the figure vanished, only to reappear behind him in a blur of afterimages.
A thunderous shout deafened him as a golden fist struck toward his back.
“Ah!”
The arched-eyebrow man panicked, his body shattering like a mirror, splitting into seven or eight illusions that scattered in all directions.
“Hmph! Trying to escape?”
The figure was, of course, Han Li. With a cold snort, his fist blurred, multiplying into identical copies that struck each illusion squarely in the back.
The illusions burst like bubbles.
Only the real arched-eyebrow man had a small silver shield materialize behind him, barely blocking the golden fist.
With a *bang*, the shield shattered instantly, and the fist struck his back.
At the moment of impact, a layer of cyan armor appeared over his body.
A deafening explosion erupted as golden and cyan lights clashed. The fist sank several inches into the armor, and the arched-eyebrow man screamed as he was sent flying.
Han Li frowned. He could feel most of his punch’s force slipping away like an eel, with only a fraction truly impacting the armor. Otherwise, the blow would have pierced through and left the man severely wounded.
The moment he was pulled into the Thousand Soul Bell’s ghostly space, Han Li had sensed the man’s murderous intent. Now, he showed no mercy.
Though surprised his punch hadn’t fully succeeded, Han Li immediately teleported above the arched-eyebrow man. With a flick of his wrist, a foot-long golden sword appeared in his hand, poised to strike.
Just then, the arched-eyebrow man—Surnamed Weng—shrieked, “Stop! I surrender!”
Han Li’s lips twitched, but his sword descended without hesitation, unleashing a wave of golden sword Qi.
With the Emerald Swarm Sword’s sharpness, even the cyan armor wouldn’t save the man from being bisected.
A spatial ripple erupted as a streak of yellow light wrapped around Weng, whisking him away just before the sword Qi landed.
Han Li’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. Twenty zhang away, a burst of yellow light revealed two figures—the scar-faced golden-armored cultivator and Weng.
The scar-faced man was expressionless, while Weng was pale, his armor stained with blood, his gaze venomous.
Despite the armor absorbing most of the force, Han Li’s punch had still injured him internally. The fist imprint on his back was clearly visible.
Han Li showed no reaction, sheathing his sword and bowing to the golden-armored cultivator.
“Thank you for intervening, Senior. I nearly failed to hold back and injured Brother Weng,” Han Li said solemnly.
Weng’s face flushed with rage, nearly vomiting blood again. Han Li hadn’t hesitated at all—he’d fully intended to kill him.
The scar-faced man’s lips twitched with amusement. “In battles, failing to hold back is normal. No matter. Since Weng surrendered, the victory goes to Han Li. This spirit land is now his. Any objections?”
Han Li smiled faintly, offering no protest.
Weng seethed but remained silent.
Satisfied, the scar-faced man extended a hand to Han Li. “Hand over your Azure Nether Jade.”
Han Li flipped his palm, producing the jade pendant and tossing it over.
The golden-armored cultivator caught it and pressed a thumb-sized emerald crystal into it, which vanished instantly.
“Done. The spirit land’s mark is now in your jade. Unless you abandon it voluntarily, you cannot participate in future century-long land disputes. You may both leave now. The next match will begin shortly.”
Returning the jade, he gestured for them to depart. The white light barrier had already opened an exit.
Han Li clasped his fists and transformed into a green streak, vanishing through the exit.
Weng, his face dark, also left in a yellow streak. But he paused outside, glaring in Han Li’s direction before stomping his foot and flying the opposite way.
Though injured, his speed was still considerable. Soon, he arrived at an unfamiliar location high in the sky, halting abruptly.
“What happened? Your qi is in chaos! Did you lose the spirit land and get injured?” A cold voice rang out as a foot-long emerald flood dragon materialized nearby, its eyes glinting with frost as it studied him.
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