“Forget it. No matter how powerful that demon is, after being suppressed for so many years, it must be extremely weak. Besides, many late-stage cultivators have gone down there—they should be more than capable of handling anything.” Han Li cast a deep glance toward the bottom of the cliff and spoke indifferently.
With that, he signaled to Gui Ling, and the two of them drifted lightly downward.
The descent was unfathomably deep. After floating down for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, they still hadn’t reached the bottom.
Han Li felt both puzzled and slightly unnerved.
By now, their surroundings had grown dim and murky, with darkness stretching in all directions, making it impossible to see far. However, when he looked up, a faint white light was still visible above.
For an ordinary cultivator, whose spiritual sense was restricted in such a place, they would only be able to detect movement within a few dozen feet. But Han Li activated his Brightsight Spirit Eyes, his pupils flickering with blue light, allowing him to perceive everything within several hundred feet.
After an unknown amount of time descending, Gui Ling suddenly whispered a warning.
“Fellow Daoist Han, we’ve reached the bottom!”
Han Li stirred and looked down.
Sure enough, a few dim lights flickered not far below, and the shadow of a towering structure loomed faintly.
His expression shifted slightly as he tried to get a clearer look. But just then, something flashed in the corner of his vision—a streak of bloody light silently unfurled from the darkness.
A pungent stench of blood assaulted Han Li’s senses, so foul it nearly made him retch.
“Four Scattered Realms Cultivator!” The name flashed through Han Li’s mind in an instant, sending a chill down his spine.
The bloody light was as swift as lightning, arriving before him in a blink. Had Han Li not been on high alert, he might have been helpless against it.
Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist, summoning a small silver shield—the Yuan Gang Shield!
The shield expanded rapidly, and a layer of white light shimmered over its surface, enveloping Han Li in protection.
The bloody light swept over him in an instant, swallowing him whole.
A sharp *shing* rang out as a blood-red blade, over ten feet long, materialized within the crimson glow and slashed viciously at the shield’s barrier.
The blade was bizarre—no wider than two fingers, paper-thin, and pulsing with an eerie bloody radiance.
The barrier shattered into fragments, and the blade continued unimpeded, striking the Yuan Gang Shield itself.
The shield gleamed, its surface becoming mirror-smooth. For a moment, the bloody light and silver shield clashed in a deadlock.
Han Li’s expression eased slightly, but before he could relax, the blood blade suddenly twisted like a serpent, curving around the shield and stabbing from the side with unnatural agility.
Han Li recoiled as if bitten, darting backward while firing a barrage of azure sword qi from his fingertips.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
The sword qi collided with the blade, but the latter sliced through them effortlessly, continuing toward Han Li without pause.
His face paled as he opened his mouth, expelling a sphere of green light—the Void Sky Cauldron!
*Clang!*
The blood blade struck the cauldron but failed to cleave through, finally halted.
“Hmm?” A surprised voice echoed from the darkness.
Seizing the moment, Han Li summoned his Wind and Thunder Wings, vanishing in a flash of lightning and reappearing dozens of feet away. His face darkened as he recalled the Yuan Gang Shield and Void Sky Cauldron to his side.
Meanwhile, the bloody light surged toward him from all directions, the stench of blood so thick it was suffocating.
Han Li snorted coldly, forming a hand seal. Thunder roared around him as golden lightning erupted from his body, dispersing the bloody light before it could touch him.
“Evil-Suppressing Divine Lightning!” The hidden figure in the darkness sounded even more astonished, realizing he had encountered a formidable opponent.
“Four Scattered Realms Cultivator?” Han Li called out coldly toward the shadowy figure.
The man didn’t respond. The blood blade hummed ominously before retreating into the darkness. Then, the figure transformed into a streak of light, darting downward and vanishing into a massive shadow below.
“Are you alright, Fellow Daoist?”
Gui Ling, who had been too stunned to react during the ambush, now approached nervously, fearing Han Li’s reprimand.
“I’m fine. That blade was indeed reminiscent of the Demon Dragon Saber. Had my shield not absorbed and deflected part of the attack, an ordinary treasure would’ve been split in two.” Han Li spoke calmly, retrieving the Yuan Gang Shield and inspecting it.
A thin, deep gash marred its surface.
Han Li’s eyes twitched, his expression darkening.
He channeled spiritual power into the shield, and the gash gradually healed under the silver glow. With a flick of his wrist, he stored the shield away and swallowed the Void Sky Cauldron.
“Did you see the attacker’s face, Fellow Daoist Han?” Gui Ling couldn’t help but ask.
“No. His aura obscured his appearance. I couldn’t confirm if it was the Four Scattered Realms Cultivator, but his cultivation didn’t seem particularly high.” Han Li replied slowly before turning his gaze downward, his eyes narrowing in thought.
Gui Ling didn’t dare disturb him, though she was eager to descend. She waited silently.
“Gui Ling, I’ll let this hesitation pass as a first offense. But next time, don’t hesitate when action is needed.” Han Li spoke without looking at her, then shot downward in a streak of green light without waiting for her response.
The ugly woman’s heart skipped a beat, but seeing that Han Li bore no ill intent, she relaxed slightly. Still, she hesitated, her face alternating between red and white. She realized her earlier treacherous thoughts had been sensed through the soul fragment bound to her life token.
After a long pause, she sighed and followed Han Li downward.
Han Li landed on a massive square platform, surveying his surroundings.
Apart from a dark stone staircase descending before him, there were no other entrances.
“The Demon-Suppressing Tower? This hardly looks like a tower,” Han Li muttered.
Gui Ling landed behind him and quickly explained, “Fellow Daoist, this tower is unlike mortal pagodas. The ancient cultivators built it upside-down—the spire is at the bottom, and the base is at the top. The deeper one goes, the more powerful the demons imprisoned within.”
“I see.” Han Li nodded in understanding, showing no sign of lingering resentment over their earlier exchange.
This only made Gui Ling more wary of him.
Tossing a Moonlight Stone into the air to illuminate their path, Han Li led the way into the staircase, finally entering the Demon-Suppressing Tower.
The first few levels were vast and eerily silent, devoid of even a ghostly presence. Clearly, the earlier cultivators had purged everything.
However, signs of battle became increasingly evident. It seemed the competition to reach the lower levels had grown fierce.
On the third level, they found a charred corpse beside a stone pillar. Han Li studied it for a long moment before concluding he didn’t recognize the man—likely a member of the Ye Family.
The corpse’s skull had been split open, its Nascent Soul fled. Whether it escaped or perished in the chaos was unknown.
The fourth level yielded no surprises, but on the fifth, they discovered two more corpses. One was emerald-green, clearly poisoned to death, its face swollen beyond recognition. The other was the burly man from the rogue cultivators who had caught Han Li’s attention earlier. His head had been severed, and his body hacked into seven or eight pieces.
The man’s expression was frozen in disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom dying here.
Though unsettled, Han Li pressed on, reducing the corpses to ashes before cautiously proceeding to the sixth level with Gui Ling.
There, he was startled to find a living person—a woman in palace robes, encased in a massive block of ice.
It was Bai Yaoyi.
Her hands were clasped in a seal, holding a crystalline flying sword, her eyes lightly closed.
Were it not for the faint spiritual pulse detectable through the ice, her deathly pale face would have convinced Han Li she had perished.
Instead of immediately freeing her, he first scanned the entire floor with his spiritual sense. Finding nothing else amiss, he placed a hand on the ice.
*Whoosh!*
Purple flames enveloped his palm, and the ice’s frigid energy was rapidly absorbed.
The block shrank rapidly until Bai Yaoyi was freed.
As the last of the ice melted away, her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes.
The moment she saw Han Li, the tension in her delicate features eased.
“So it’s you, Fellow Daoist Han. I feared it might be someone else,” she said weakly, clearly drained.
“If I recall correctly, you cultivate an ice-attribute technique. Did you freeze yourself deliberately?” Han Li asked, studying her beautiful but exhausted face.
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