With Han Li and the Wind Riding Chariot’s astonishing speed, they had already penetrated over a hundred miles into the Mulan Grassland in just a short while.
Han Li, enveloped in a crimson glow from the blood-red cloak he had activated, shot forward while sweeping his spiritual sense behind him. A trace of surprise flickered across his face.
He had already pushed the cloak to its maximum power, yet not only had he failed to shake off the strange chariot behind him, but it had also closed half the distance between them. No wonder even the mid-Nascent Soul cultivator, Elder Yun, had turned pale upon seeing this chariot in pursuit.
This Wind Riding Chariot truly was a top-tier flying treasure. It seemed that unless he resorted to Thunder Evasion or Blood Shadow Evasion, there was no way to shake it off.
However, ever since Han Li had formed his Nascent Soul, he had never fought against a cultivator of the same realm. Though he had great confidence in his divine abilities and treasures, he had no real measure of his strength among Nascent Soul cultivators. After all, Nascent Soul cultivators rarely engaged in casual sparring. Even during his years in the Fallen Cloud Sect, the two elders had only discussed cultivation methods with him, never actually testing his skills. And in Tiantian City, Marquis Nanlong had merely exchanged spiritual sense probes with him, which hardly revealed his true capabilities.
Now, the spell warrior in the Wind Riding Chariot behind him seemed like an excellent opponent to gauge his strength. Moreover, he was quite intrigued by the spell warrior’s spiritual techniques. If he could repel or even kill the opponent, that would be ideal. If not, he could always rely on his Wind and Thunder Wings to escape—an easy task.
However, he couldn’t afford to drag the battle out too long. Lingering in the Mulan Grassland was risky, and prolonged combat could invite unforeseen complications.
Having swiftly made up his mind, Han Li let the crimson glow around him flicker violently before dimming, replaced by a surge of cyan radiance. At the same time, his figure paused mid-flight, arcing in a wide turn before he turned to face his pursuer.
With a cold glance at the approaching white light, Han Li flicked his sleeve, releasing dozens of cyan sword beams that swarmed out like a school of fish, forming a layered sword formation resembling fish scales before him—an imposing sight indeed.
For his first real battle against another Nascent Soul cultivator, Han Li naturally wouldn’t be careless. In addition to unleashing all seventy-two Emerald Swarm Swords, he also raised his hand and tossed a spirit beast pouch into the air. A massive cloud of three-colored Gold Devouring Beetles materialized, but at Han Li’s whispered incantation, the swarm spiraled before abruptly descending.
Eyes gleaming, Han Li raised both hands and fired two cyan spell seals into the insect cloud. Instantly, the swarm, wrapped in cyan light, engulfed him. Moments later, a shimmering, archaic-looking three-colored insect armor emerged on his body, faintly glowing with cyan light.
Coincidentally, just as Han Li stopped, the Wind Riding Chariot caught up in an instant, allowing the spell warrior inside to witness the astonishing sight of the insect armor forming. The previously reckless pursuit abruptly slowed, and the chariot halted about a hundred zhang away from Han Li.
Han Li glanced expressionlessly at the chariot but paid it no further mind. Instead, he seized the moment to flip his hands, revealing a flower basket in one palm and a small silver bell in the other.
Without hesitation, he hurled the bell toward his opponent. Silver light flashed as the bell expanded mid-flight, transforming into a colossal object several zhang in size before hurtling menacingly toward the chariot.
Simultaneously, with a thought, the seventy-two flying swords before him shimmered, each splitting into three, multiplying into over two hundred cyan sword beams. With a low shout of “Go!”, a clear ringing filled the air as all the sword beams merged into a single hundred-zhang-long cyan tidal wave, surging forward with the intent to crush the Wind Riding Chariot into splinters.
The silver bell, already in position above the chariot, began its assault. It spun rapidly, emitting deep, resonant chimes. Visible silver ripples radiated outward in concentric circles, descending upon the chariot below.
Han Li was confident that if the spell warrior inside was unprepared, this strike alone would deal a heavy blow. Though the silver bell itself hadn’t changed, its power had nearly doubled since Han Li’s advancement to the Nascent Soul stage—far surpassing its potency during his Core Formation days.
Of course, the spell warrior wouldn’t take the attack head-on. The wooden wings of the Wind Riding Chariot twitched, and the vehicle instantly reversed over ten zhang, narrowly escaping the sound wave’s range.
Then, white light erupted from the chariot as a figure abruptly shot out, hovering above it just as the colossal cyan sword wave arrived, crashing down with overwhelming force.
The figure, however, remained unperturbed. With a single raised hand, a burst of blue light formed a deep-blue barrier several zhang above its head. The moment the cyan sword wave struck, explosions rang out. Though the barrier trembled violently, it held firm for the time being.
Han Li, watching from a distance with narrowed eyes, frowned slightly.
The spell warrior then began chanting, and with a sudden exhale, a thin blue thread shot from its mouth, rapidly transforming into a massive blue serpent that lunged from the barrier to clash with Han Li’s cyan sword wave. Instantly, cyan and blue lights intertwined, accompanied by thunderous roars.
Only then did the spell warrior raise a hand, sending a spell seal into the Wind Riding Chariot below. The chariot swiftly shrank to palm-size before flying into the warrior’s grasp, who then calmly stored it away in a storage pouch. Finally, the figure lifted its head to reveal a gaunt, sinister face.
Han Li’s gaze sharpened. The opponent was a man in his sixties, with strange blue tattoos on his cheeks and wearing an unusual blue brocade robe. But what truly surprised Han Li wasn’t his appearance—it was the overwhelming spiritual pressure radiating from him. This spell warrior was at the peak of early Nascent Soul, on the verge of breaking into mid-stage. No wonder he had so easily blocked two waves of attacks.
Han Li also noticed that the blue barrier wasn’t conjured from thin air—it emanated from a fist-sized orb the man held in one hand. As for the blue serpent, his spiritual sense detected no physical form; it was entirely composed of condensed spiritual energy.
This discovery deepened Han Li’s wariness. His expression icy, he readied the flower basket in his other hand, its white glow intensifying as he prepared to unleash it.
“Hold!” The old man’s voice, slightly stiff, rang out. “Though your abilities are impressive, you’re too hasty. I haven’t even spoken, yet you attack without a word.”
“What is there to discuss between cultivators and spell warriors?” Han Li replied coldly, though he pointed at the silver bell, halting its assault mid-air. The flower basket’s glow also dimmed. He was curious what this spell warrior had to say.
“True, but at our level, we need not always fight to the death. If your answers satisfy me, this venerable one might even let you go,” the old man chuckled, unfazed.
“Answers? I have nothing to tell you. In fact, I have a few questions of my own,” Han Li retorted, lips curling in mockery.
He could easily guess what the man wanted to ask. The sudden appearance of so many Nascent Soul cultivators here would naturally arouse suspicion.
“So you refuse my goodwill?” The old man’s face darkened.
With a cold snort, Han Li flicked a finger toward the sky. The entangled cyan sword beams abruptly condensed, forming a single colossal blade twenty to thirty zhang long. With lightning-fast slashes, it severed the blue serpent into pieces before mercilessly descending upon the barrier—and the old man beneath it.
A vicious glint flashed in the old man’s eyes. Without another word, he raised the orb, which shot into the air. He then spat a mouthful of essence onto it.
The orb spun wildly, releasing countless blue threads that wove into a vast net beneath the barrier. At the same time, the old man chanted, forming hand seals as a towering blue light erupted from his body, coalescing into a massive sphere above his head.
The colossal sword struck the barrier, and as Han Li expected, the barrier stood no chance. With a tearing sound, it split cleanly in two before the blade plunged into the net below.
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