Although Han Li cultivated the path to immortality, he placed no faith whatsoever in notions of heavenly destiny. To him, cultivating to become an immortal was merely a means to pursue eternal life. Even if a true immortal were to appear before him, while he would certainly feel immediate awe and reverence, he doubted he could ever sincerely submit and obey unconditionally.
Fairy Zi Ling and Ge Li were taken aback by Han Li’s blunt words, their expressions turning slightly awkward after a moment of surprise.
In truth, Han Li wasn’t the only one who thought this way. Most cultivators also regarded the matter of the “Soul Cry” as little more than a legend. It was just that under normal circumstances, no one was as direct as Han Li. After all, topics related to heavenly mandate and the Dao of Heaven were approached with a sense of taboo.
By now, the black-robed man had already led the “Soul Cry” deep into the ghost mist, completely vanishing from sight.
Han Li glanced at the ghost mist, a slight smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s go as well. Since someone has kindly cleared a path for us, it would be impolite not to take advantage of it.”
“Fellow Daoist Han, what do you mean?” Old Man Ge asked, feigning confusion. In truth, the old man understood Han Li’s meaning perfectly—had Han Li not agreed to join forces, he himself would likely have done the same. However, having just scorned the black-robed man, he now felt somewhat embarrassed to be benefiting from the other’s efforts in front of Han Li and Fairy Zi Ling. Thus, he pretended not to understand, waiting for Han Li to voice the idea first.
Hearing the old man’s words, Han Li gave him a look that was half-smile, half-sneer but said nothing. Instead, he took the lead, heading in the direction where the black-robed man had disappeared. Fairy Zi Ling followed without hesitation.
Seeing this, Ge Li was momentarily stunned before his face flushed with embarrassment, and he hurried after them.
As the three approached, the pale grey ghost mist seemed to come alive, boiling and churning as it surged toward them.
If an ordinary mortal were enveloped by this greyish-white mist, their essence and blood would be instantly drained, leaving them a withered corpse, their soul becoming part of the ghost mist, forever trapped in the ghost path, unable to escape. But Han Li and his companions were cultivators, unafraid of such mere ghost mist.
As light shimmered around them, each employed their own method of protection.
Ge Li raised his hand, releasing a small, pale red umbrella that hovered about ten feet above his head, rotating slowly. A pillar of red light enveloped the old man, and whenever the ghost mist touched it, a sizzling sound erupted, followed by wisps of eerie green smoke and faint, mournful wails. The remaining ghost mist dared only to claw and snarl outside the red light, refusing to approach further, as if possessing intelligence.
Fairy Zi Ling summoned four fist-sized orb artifacts that circled around her, forming a mobile barrier about ten feet wide. This barrier, crystalline and square-shaped, repelled all ghost mist, preventing it from getting anywhere near her.
However, the most peculiar defense belonged to Han Li. Aside from a faint layer of cyan light enveloping him, he used no artifacts or magic treasures. Yet, whenever the ghost mist drew near, several inexplicable arcs of lightning shot out, causing the mist to vanish without a trace.
This strange sight naturally drew looks of astonishment from Ge Li and Fairy Zi Ling, but neither was tactless enough to inquire about it.
Though puzzled, Fairy Zi Ling vaguely thought of the Heavenly Lightning Bamboo but couldn’t be certain.
Han Li continued walking at the front, oblivious to their curiosity. This wasn’t out of any desire to play the hero; in a place shrouded in ghostly energy on all sides, there was little difference between leading and following. It was better to take the lead to better assess any dangers.
As for the lightning, it was merely the result of channeling part of the sword energy from his Green Bamboo Cloud-Swarm Swords into his protective shield. Only the body-protecting sword shield technique of the “Green Origin Sword Art” could harness part of a flying sword’s power without needing to summon the artifact itself. This was a spellcasting method Han Li had recently comprehended. Given the evil-warding nature of the Golden Lightning Bamboo, dealing with this ghost mist was child’s play.
Of course, Han Li didn’t unleash the full power of the Golden Lightning Bamboo, so the lightning appeared only as pale white arcs, making it unlikely for others to recognize its origin. Meanwhile, his far superior spiritual sense, compared to ordinary cultivators, was fully extended since entering the ghost mist to guard against potential sneak attacks by malevolent spirits. After all, even with their spiritual vision, they couldn’t see far in such dense ghost mist.
Fortunately, the trail left by the black-robed man was easy to follow in the thick mist. A channel about ten feet wide, noticeably lighter than the surrounding fog, was clearly visible to the naked eye. Han Li and the others simply had to follow it.
Whether this was due to the black-robed man’s techniques or the supernatural abilities of the “Soul Cry” mattered little to Han Li, and he couldn’t be bothered to ponder it.
The more powerful the “Soul Cry” was, the more beneficial it would be for those following behind.
Now, he walked slowly, his expression neutral as he observed his surroundings. The ground beneath his feet was uneven and damp, seemingly heavy with moisture.
They walked for an unknown length of time without incident.
Unconsciously, they had followed the black-robed man deep into the ghost mist, and the color of the mist began to darken from pale grey to black.
However, as time passed, Han Li’s expression grew increasingly somber, his brows furrowing tightly.
*Crack!* A crisp sound echoed as Han Li suddenly halted, looking down. Fairy Zi Ling and the old man behind him curiously gathered around.
Han Li’s eyes narrowed slightly before returning to normal as he shifted his foot away. Beneath it lay a pile of white bones, clad in a glimmering cyan robe that seemed anything but ordinary. Nearby were fragments of a shattered sword, crystalline and translucent, as if still retaining some spiritual nature.
It appeared this was the remains of an unfortunate cultivator who had met his end here. A strange light flickered in Han Li’s eyes, but he shook his head slightly.
Given that the spiritual nature of the artifact fragments remained after so many years, this cultivator must have been quite powerful in life. Yet, after dying here, not even his bones had been collected—a far cry from the glory he likely enjoyed while alive. How tragic! It served as a reminder that a single misstep on the path of cultivation could lead to irreversible doom, with an end even more miserable than that of ordinary folk.
This cultivator’s soul had likely become part of the ghost mist or transformed into a malevolent spirit, making it difficult to ever reenter the cycle of reincarnation.
As Han Li sighed inwardly, he glanced casually at the other two.
Fairy Zi Ling’s face was slightly pale, and upon meeting Han Li’s gaze, she forced a faint smile.
Old Man Ge, however, wore a strange expression. Frowning deeply, he stared at the cyan robe for a long moment before suddenly flicking his finger, sending a egg-sized flame onto the garment. But before the flame could even touch it, it flickered and died out.
“Cough! So it really is him!” Ge Li raised his head, murmuring to himself, his face darkening.
“What? Fellow Daoist Ge recognizes him?” Han Li raised an eyebrow, glancing indifferently at the bones.
Fairy Zi Ling also looked on with curiosity.
“This person should be the Jade True One, with whom I crossed paths a few times. He formed his Golden Core much earlier than I did. This fire-warding treasure robe of his was refined from hundred-year ice silkworm silk—ordinary flames can’t even approach it. It was quite a famous treasure. I heard he also went to the last opening of the Void Sky Hall but never returned. I never thought he’d truly met his end here, failing to even pass the first barrier. How unfortunate!” Ge Li sighed heavily.
Han Li fell silent upon hearing this, but after a moment, he asked a question that startled the old man.
“How did this Jade True One’s cultivation and artifact power compare to yours? Was he much stronger?” Han Li asked calmly.
Seeming to understand Han Li’s implication, Ge Li stroked his beard thoughtfully before replying with certainty, “Although the Jade True One was at the early Core Formation stage like I am now, back then, he was said to be on the verge of breaking through to the mid Core Formation stage. His magic power should have been far superior to mine. Moreover, he possessed the rare ice attribute异灵根 (variant spiritual root) and cultivated ice-based techniques, which I am nowhere near matching. As for his artifacts, I never saw him in combat, so I can’t judge, but they shouldn’t have been inferior to mine.” As he spoke, the old man’s complexion grew increasingly grim.
“In that case, there must be something formidable nearby,” Han Li said, his expression turning serious. “I found it strange earlier. Even with the Soul Cry Beast clearing the way, why haven’t we encountered any wild ghosts or lone spirits aside from this ghost mist? It’s unlikely the black-robed man cleared out all the nearby demons and ghosts for us.”
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