“From the way you speak, it seems as though you’ve seen it with your own eyes. Haven’t you never entered the Fallen Devil Valley?” Han Li’s heart stirred, and he deliberately probed further.
“Oh, so just because I haven’t seen it, I can’t have heard about it? Back then, the few friends I entered the valley with, though their abilities were far inferior to mine, were no ordinary cultivators. Yet, even when working together, only one barely escaped with his life. That alone speaks volumes about the terrifying power of the ancient devil.” The Great Divinity Saint snorted a few times, clearly intending to enlighten Han Li.
Han Li chuckled and was about to ask another question when a pained roar suddenly erupted from the fleeing black mist in the distance. Then, a whirlwind abruptly swept through the mist, scattering it all and revealing “Nanlong Hou” within.
When Linghu Lao and the white-robed woman caught sight of him, their expressions drastically changed, and they gasped in shock.
Was this even human? The “Nanlong Hou” before them had completely transformed into a monstrous creature with two heads and four arms. His neck now bore two grotesque heads—one large, one small—positioned front and back, while his shoulders sprouted four abnormally long demonic arms that extended past his knees.
The front head was covered in patches of purple serpent scales, and a white horn several inches long protruded from its forehead. Despite these changes, its facial features still resembled Nanlong Hou’s original appearance. However, the slightly smaller head squeezed out from behind the neck was entirely demonic in nature.
Though it also bore a horn and scales on its cheeks, its face was ghastly pale with fanged teeth. Its pitch-black lips parted and closed, revealing a long, blackish-purple tongue covered in fleshy barbs that flicked in and out like a venomous snake.
Even more chilling were its eyes—narrow, slit-like pupils gleaming with a cold, silver-white light. As they darted around, they held not a trace of human emotion.
Not just the heads—his entire body and all four arms were densely covered in deep purple scales, leaving no gaps exposed. The tips of his fingers had grown sharp, bone-like claws that gleamed with a deadly silver-white sheen.
Though Linghu Lao and the white-robed woman were momentarily stunned by this horrifying sight, as seasoned Nascent Soul cultivators who had lived for centuries, they were not so easily intimidated. Seeing “Nanlong Hou” standing motionless after revealing his true form, they simultaneously directed their treasures to attack.
A five-colored beam of light flashed, instantly enveloping “Nanlong Hou.” Seizing the opportunity, Linghu Lao followed up by sending a massive white ring hurtling down.
The demonic soul’s front head remained expressionless, like a corpse, while the rear one curled its lips into a mocking sneer. As the ring descended, the demonic soul’s four arms moved with eerie grace, purple light flashing as they effortlessly caught the ring mid-air.
Linghu Lao was shocked and immediately activated a spell to free the ring, but the four demonic hands held it as firmly as if cast in iron.
The rear head let out a sinister laugh and suddenly spat a jet-black liquid onto the ring. The once-gleaming ancient treasure instantly dimmed, its spiritual light extinguished, turning pitch-black and radiating an eerie dark glow.
“My Mingyang Ring!” Linghu Lao cried out in horror. The moment the ring changed color, his spiritual connection to it was severed, leaving his face deathly pale.
This demonic soul had actually found a way to corrupt and seize an ancient treasure for its own use—something utterly unbelievable.
Now, the demonic soul released the ring with three of its arms, keeping only one to wield it. With a few casual swings, phantom rings overlapped in the air, and both heads nodded in satisfaction. “Not bad, not bad! I was just lamenting the lack of usable treasures. This one will do for now.” The front head spoke in human tongue while the other three arms reached into its body. With another flash of light, two more items appeared—a black flag and a small sword, both radiating dark energy. The fourth arm remained empty.
“Heh. Though I can only corrupt a few of your cultivator’s treasures for now, these will suffice for the time being.” The demonic soul chuckled darkly.
Meanwhile, Han Li, who had been distracted setting up his formation, had slowed his golden arcs and fireballs, leaving them lagging behind. The swarm of golden Devouring Gold Insects, which had been keeping pace, now hesitated in fear upon seeing the demonic soul’s two-headed, four-armed form, circling in place instead of advancing.
Han Li frowned. Through their mental link, he could sense the insects’ instinctive fear, which puzzled him.
Moreover, the sight of this demonic soul wielding its two-headed, four-armed form reminded him of the images from the *True Sacred Slabs* and the three-headed, six-armed demon statue enshrined in Cang Kun the Transcendent’s cave. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was some connection between them.
The flag in the demonic soul’s hand was none other than the wind-controlling ancient treasure once wielded by the old man surnamed Lu. The small sword also looked familiar—after a moment’s thought, Han Li recognized it as one of the ancient treasures from the remains of the long-deceased cultivator. It seemed the demonic soul had corrupted and claimed them all.
But regardless of any connections, now was not the time for investigation. He needed to provoke this demon and lure it into the Great Geng Sword Formation.
With that in mind, Han Li urged the Devouring Gold Insects forward while accelerating the Divine Annihilation Lightning and purple fireballs, sending them all hurtling toward the demonic soul.
In response, both heads of the demonic soul let out eerie, undulating laughter. Its necks blurred momentarily as the heads abruptly swapped places—the front head now facing backward while the demonic one took the front, its grotesque tongue flicking in and out unnaturally.
The transformed demonic soul coldly watched Han Li’s fierce assault, showing no intention of dodging. With a wave of its four arms, it raised its three treasures high, causing the small sword, flag, and ring to simultaneously radiate dark light.
Just as Han Li and the demonic soul were about to clash again, a thunderous roar erupted from the distance. The sound was deafening, like rolling thunder, filled with rage and madness. Even Linghu Lao and the others, far away, felt their minds tremble at the sound, their faces paling.
Han Li was momentarily stunned, but the demonic soul’s two heads simultaneously twisted in alarm. Without hesitation, it retracted its treasures and transformed into a streak of black light, fleeing at breakneck speed while emitting a similar howl in response.
It was heading straight for the source of the roar.
Han Li hesitated briefly before halting his golden arcs, purple flames, and insect swarm. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the demonic soul shrink into a distant black dot, his expression unreadable.
If he remembered correctly, the direction of the roar was the same as the earlier explosion of terrifying energy—the very spot marked on the Fallen Devil Valley map. Could something truly shocking be happening there? And if the demonic soul had fled so urgently, even responding with its own howl, did that mean another ancient devil was present?
Han Li swiftly considered all possibilities, his face contemplative as he stood motionless.
Meanwhile, Linghu Lao and the white-robed woman, seeing the demonic soul suddenly retreat, finally relaxed, their expressions easing.
The white-robed woman had been uneasy ever since her prized treasure, the *Condensing Light Mirror*, failed to restrain the transformed “Nanlong Hou.”
Linghu Lao, though grieving the loss of his treasure, was secretly relieved to have escaped with his life. Had they not coincidentally encountered Han Li here, he and the Masked Moon Sect’s Grand Elder would have been in grave danger.
Another cultivator who had entered the valley with them had already met a gruesome end—his Nascent Soul ripped out by “Nanlong Hou” before he could react.
Now that the demonic soul had truly fled far beyond pursuit, Linghu Lao and the white-robed woman exchanged glances before cautiously approaching Han Li. After witnessing his astonishing abilities, they couldn’t simply leave without a word.
“Fellow Daoist Han, I must thank you for saving my life. Without you, I would not have survived this ordeal,” Linghu Lao said with deep courtesy, clasping his hands. His gaze flickered to the motionless tiger puppet and the chilling aura of the Heaven Severing Demon Corpse beside Han Li, and a twinge of envy rose in his heart.
For someone so young to possess such treasures and abilities—his future cultivation path was boundless! It seemed their earlier agreement for Han Li to assist the Yellow Maple Valley had been the right decision. With his help, the sect could weather any crisis for the next millennium.
As for Nangong Wan’s senior sister, though she had previously clashed with Han Li, she now forced a smile and said stiffly, “This humble one also thanks you for your great kindness.” Her voice was cool, her pride still evident.
Any thoughts of revenge had long since vanished after witnessing Han Li’s current power.
“There’s no need for such gratitude. I was merely protecting myself,” Han Li replied calmly, recalling his golden arcs and other techniques before continuing, “What are your plans now? Any interest in following to investigate?”
“Fellow Daoist Han jests. That thing is far too dangerous—only a late Nascent Soul cultivator could handle it. We would never dare pursue,” Linghu Lao immediately declined, shaking his head. The white-robed woman remained silent but clearly agreed.
“Very well. Though I’m curious, venturing alone would be reckless. I’ll part ways with you here,” Han Li said, inwardly disappointed. Had they been willing to accompany him, he might have dared to investigate the distant commotion. But alone, it wasn’t worth the risk.
Without waiting for their response, he glanced once more toward the direction of the unceasing roar. After a moment, his expression suddenly darkened.
“What’s wrong?” Linghu Lao asked nervously, following Han Li’s gaze.
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