As soon as the flood dragon’s soul entered the spiritual hide, Han Li flipped his palm without hesitation, revealing a small, exquisitely crafted blue spirit talisman brush, about six or seven inches long. With his other hand, he beckoned toward an open green jade box, from which a golden liquid floated out effortlessly.
Han Li swiftly dipped the brush into the golden liquid, then focused intently and began expertly tracing intricate patterns on the floating hide. Mysterious golden runes poured from the brush tip, swiftly embedding themselves into the blood-red hide, vanishing without a trace. Soon, runes of varying sizes emerged on the hide’s surface, gleaming brilliantly as if meticulously engraved.
The moment these runes appeared, the hide trembled violently, and a dragon’s roar erupted from it. The surface bulged as the blood-red flood dragon soul burst forth, attempting to escape. But in that instant, the golden runes on the hide flared to life, twisting and writhing like living tendrils, ensnaring the soul and yanking it back with immense force.
Though devoid of intelligence, the flood dragon soul, as a spiritual beast’s essence, instinctively sensed danger. It struggled fiercely against the golden runes, desperate to break free. Han Li accelerated his brushwork, conjuring more runes that swiftly enveloped the soul, gradually dragging it back into the hide.
Seizing the moment, Han Li paused, switching to a purple liquid. Dipping the brush again, he inscribed strange, sigil-like symbols with deliberate precision, flicking them onto the hide one by one.
This process repeated at intervals, with Han Li alternating between different spirit liquids resembling cinnabar, each producing unique symbols and incantations on the hide. Before long, the palm-sized hide shimmered with a dense array of multicolored lights, brimming with spiritual energy.
Han Li’s expression grew increasingly solemn, his movements slower, his eyes flickering with blue light as he pushed his Clear Spirit Eyes to their limits.
When a final red rune flew into the hide, an abnormal surge of spiritual energy erupted from the half-completed talisman, growing increasingly violent. Han Li’s face darkened with dismay, but he acted swiftly—sweeping his sleeve to gather all materials with a burst of azure light while summoning a small blue shield from his sleeve. The shield expanded instantly, shielding him just as the blood-red hide exploded with a deafening dragon’s roar.
A dazzling five-colored light erupted, the shockwave crashing against the blue shield. To Han Li’s surprise, the shield held firm with only a slight tremor. Given the destructive potential of a failed Spirit Subduing Talisman, this outcome was unexpectedly mild.
As confusion flickered in Han Li’s mind, a streak of blood-red light shot from the explosion toward the chamber’s ceiling, attempting to flee. But upon contact, a white barrier materialized, repelling the light and revealing the crimson flood dragon soul.
Han Li’s initial shock turned to elation. Without hesitation, he raised a hand, summoning a giant azure hand that seized the soul mid-air and pulled it down. With a casual flick of his finger, the blue shield shrank and returned to his sleeve.
Examining the recaptured soul with his Clear Spirit Eyes, Han Li let out a surprised exclamation. Though the soul remained intact, its energy had significantly weakened, the crimson flood dragon now appearing listless.
Han Li stroked his chin, deep in thought. It seemed that a failed talisman didn’t destroy the soul outright but merely drained its energy. This meant the Spirit Subduing Talisman could be attempted multiple times before the soul’s power was exhausted—though repeated failures would diminish its potency.
Relieved, Han Li exhaled softly. Some energy loss was preferable to the soul’s complete destruction—a silver lining in this setback.
With a wry smile, he retrieved the materials again, laying them out neatly and replacing the ruined hide with a fresh one.
A new round of crafting began.
—
While Han Li toiled in seclusion, Tianyi City mobilized fully within just two or three days.
Every cultivator and sect learned of the impending life-or-death battle against the spell warriors. After initial chaos, the city’s forces marched out in organized legions, their expressions grave as they advanced toward the border.
All understood the stakes: either the Mulan would be repelled, or the South would fall under spell warrior rule, dooming countless sects to extinction. Morale soared without need for encouragement, though rumors about the ten duel matches ran rampant.
To prevent Mulan spies from leaking the participants’ identities, Han Li and the others remained unnamed except to the high-ranking elders who attended the hall meeting. Speculation ran wild among the cultivators, especially those with disciples among the thousand lives at stake.
The Falling Cloud Sect disciples departed with their contingent, forcing Elder Lü Luo to accompany them. He instructed the Song woman to remain at the outpost, awaiting Han Li’s emergence.
In just a few days, Tianyi City became almost deserted, with only a few remaining cultivators left behind.
As days passed with no sign of Han Li, the Song woman grew anxious. Despite the heavy restrictions around his chamber, faint dragon roars and explosions occasionally leaked through, deepening her concern.
By the fifth day, she resolved to forcibly interrupt Han Li’s seclusion if he didn’t emerge by nightfall—lest he miss the battle entirely.
Now seated in the outpost hall, she watched the waning sunlight with a troubled expression. As dusk deepened, she clenched her fists, stood abruptly, and took two graceful steps—only to freeze at the sudden chime of a bell.
Moments later, a flash of azure light revealed Han Li at the hall’s entrance.
“Greetings, Elder!” She hurried forward with a bow.
“What day is it? The city seems emptied.” Han Li’s spiritual sense had already noted Tianyi’s deserted state upon exiting, but he sought confirmation.
“The fifth day, Elder,” she replied, relieved.
“Plenty of time, but best not delay. Let’s go.” Han Li strode decisively outside, summoning the Wind Riding Chariot—a white, winged carriage—with a flick of his sleeve.
“Board this. It’s faster than your flight.” He stepped aboard, gesturing for her to follow.
The Song woman eyed the chariot with surprise but complied silently. With a tap of Han Li’s foot, a white barrier enveloped the vehicle before it shot skyward like a comet.
The chariot lived up to its reputation as a specialized flight artifact, crossing vast distances effortlessly. Soon, Tianyi City vanished behind them as they arrowed toward the border.
The Song woman relaxed further, musing whether this chariot explained Han Li’s calm delay. What profound secrets had he been cultivating? And what of those dragon roars?
Lost in thought, she started when Han Li suddenly asked, “Are Fairy Violet Spirit and her companion still here?”
“They’ve temporarily left, awaiting the battle’s outcome before deciding their next move,” she answered promptly.
Han Li chuckled. “Clever girl. A wise choice—one I’d make in her place.”
With that, he channeled more spiritual power, accelerating the chariot to breathtaking speed. The Song woman gasped as the landscape blurred, the chariot soon shrinking to a distant speck on the horizon.
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