While the heads of the various sects discussed the steps to open the sealed sanctuary, Han Li remained busy, constantly observing the standout figures from each sect. For those masters whose cultivation techniques reached the peak of the thirteenth level, Han Li had a strategy: he would try to avoid them if possible, escape if necessary, and only resort to a surprise attack from behind if absolutely forced. He absolutely did not want to suffer another battle like the one he had with "Master Lu," leaving himself with not a single drop of spiritual energy. After all, this situation was vastly different from the previous one—he now faced not just a single opponent, but a large group of passionate, fiercely determined cultivators. If he didn’t maintain reserves and constantly stay ready to counterattack, he would surely be the first to fall out of the competition. As he observed and pondered, Han Li suddenly felt as though someone was watching him. A slight surprise stirred within him, and he turned to meet the gaze he had sensed. A female disciple from the Spirit Beast Sect was gazing at him with some hesitation, and upon closer inspection of her graceful features, he found her face familiar. Han Li was surprised, mentally going through all the women he knew, and a slender figure gradually came into focus. "It's her—the young girl who sold me the golden Zhuzhu brush at the Tainan Conference. How did she end up joining the Lingshou Mountain sect and come to participate in this blood-colored trial?" He finally recognized the girl as more handsome than before, yet he still felt a touch of puzzlement. Yet he remembered vividly her constant face flushed with bashfulness, and held a strong favorable impression of her. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but smile gently at her. The girl clearly noticed his gesture, and her cheeks instantly flushed crimson, just as she had always been—easily shy. Standing behind her was a man with a beard, who seemed to have noticed the interaction between the girl and Han Li. His expression darkened, and suddenly he spoke sharply to the girl. Immediately, the girl turned pale, lowered her head, and no longer dared to glance casually toward Han Li. The man wouldn't give up, glaring fiercely at Han Li with a venomous gaze, his warning unmistakable. Han Li furrowed his brow—clearly, the young woman had not fared well during her time at the Spirit Beast Mountain. This bearded man, whom he had just noticed, was one of the particularly harsh figures there, possessing thirteen layers of cultivation. With such a figure now fixated on her, the young woman must have endured considerable hardships. To prevent the young lady from suffering further, Han Li decided not to stir up this crude, unrefined man who showed no regard for the delicate. Should he choose to, Han Li was certain he had the means to make him furious beyond words, yet helpless. At this moment, the various sect elders had concluded their discussions, returned to their respective ranks, and then took their junior disciples with them, ascending into the air toward the legendary sanctuary. This journey was brief; after only a few hours of flight toward the border of Yuanwu Kingdom, they landed upon a vast, boundless plain of yellow soil. There, scattered only with stones, no grass or small plants could be seen—everywhere, a sea of yellow stretched out. "Could this be it?" Han Li and the others were equally surprised, as the place seemed far from suitable for nurturing celestial and spiritual treasures. Several senior cultivators at the Jie Dan stage gathered once more for a brief conversation, and then suddenly, the tall, robust elder from Ju Jian Sect stepped forward alone, walked forward about fifteen paces, and then halted. He extended his left hand, where a yellow glow surged forth. With a gentle grasp toward the ground, a flow of mud resembling a yellow dragon was lifted and coalesced into a massive sword composed entirely of yellow mud. Then, with a light stroke from his fingers along the hilt toward the tip, a white light blossomed wherever his fingers touched, and the mud sword instantly transformed into a heavy, gray-white stone sword. This mid-level spell of transforming mud into stone left the disciples of the seven sects marveling, opening their eyes in astonishment. Yet the master of Ju Jian Sect, having completed this, did not stop there. Holding the stone sword in both hands, he thrust his body forward and roared, hurling the sword swiftly like a streak of starlight, aimed straight toward the sky ahead. Then, a scene of profound astonishment unfolded: the stone sword, having traveled only a few dozen steps, suddenly trembled as if triggered by something, and then instantly disintegrated into fine powder. Then, vast patches of emerald light surged forth, pouring over everyone and turning their skin a deep green. As the disciples stood in awe and alarm, the emerald light suddenly intensified, swirling fiercely and rushing forth as countless wind blades that whirled continuously, forming an impregnable wall of wind and storm. Looking along either side of this wall, one saw it stretch endlessly, boundless and unending, with a constant murmur of green-hued wind rushing everywhere. One could easily imagine that anyone entering the wall would be slowly torn apart, sliced and diced by countless blades—dying a most agonizing death. This was indeed the protective spell in place here, impressive and formidable, surely requiring a rare ancient cultivator's mastery to establish such a grand and powerful array. Compared to Huang Feng Valley's gate-protecting formation, it seemed merely like a child's play, utterly insignificant. Han Li silently admired it. At that moment, the senior cultivators of Ju Jian Gate shook their heads and turned to walk back. The other leaders announced that the time had not yet come, and urged the disciples to rest briefly before reactivating the sealed area later. Thus, every hour or so, the members of the Great Sword Sect would perform the same procedure to test the strength of the seal, until, when the fourth stone sword was cast forth, the surge of emerald light emanating from the sealed area and the wind blades formed noticeably diminished. Seeing this, the six cultivators at the Dan Stage moved without hesitation, leaping into the air and standing side by side. Li Shizhu extended her hand, and a jade ruler-like object slowly emerged from her palm, then shot forth with a bright silver glow. The Taoist practitioner tapped the back of his head and exhaled, sending a streak of emerald light from his mouth that stretched into a sword several feet long as it caught the wind. The other five also each emitted a brilliantly radiant object: a soft pink ribbon, a dragon-shaped cane, a dark, massive sword, a long blade glowing with red light, and a large seal pulsating with golden light. Seven individuals, each wielding a distinct artifact, arranged themselves in a circular formation and surged directly toward the wind-blade array. These were the treasures each had cultivated over years of dedicated practice and refinement, achieving modest success since attaining the Jiān stage. The disciples from various sects could not afford to delay; under the instructions of their senior build-stage mentors, they stood behind the seven, forming seven ranks, ready to enter the sacred precinct at any moment. Especially the large yellow seal of a master from Tianque Fort, which generated the most impressive momentum—each time it was struck, it swelled up to the size of a small mountain, simultaneously bursting with gusts of wind and thunder. Yet as it returned, it shrunk back to its original form, though its movement seemed somewhat clumsy and sluggish. Although the seven treasures displayed remarkable power, they struggled considerably against the weakened wind blade array. Advancing step by step through the wind walls required considerable effort, and soon sweat began to gather on the foreheads of all seven. After several hours of intense combat, the seven were drenched in sweat, yet their magical artifacts finally gained the upper hand, forcing a circular passage several zhang high through the wind wall—within which the darkness was so profound that nothing could be seen. "Move quickly—we won't be able to sustain this much longer!" the Taoist called out first, as he possessed the weakest magical energy among the seven and had the most perspiration. The disciples of the Seven Sects could not afford to delay, and swiftly interlaced themselves, filing one after another into the passage. At that moment, everyone remained silent, their expressions grave. All knew that once they entered the sacred precinct, they would instantly become mortal enemies—even fellow disciples and brothers-in-arms would no longer be trusted. Han Li stood in the middle to rear of the line, with disciples from the Great Sword Sect ahead and those from the Blade-Refining Workshop behind. The passage was not long—only about twenty zhang in length—and as soon as Han Li stepped out, he still hadn't fully adjusted to the scene when he suddenly felt a dizzying sensation, as if the world spun and turned. His vision blurred, and before he could catch his breath, he had vanished completely from the exit.