(Haha! Finally made it back—uploaded everything for everyone. Honestly, staying up all night without sleeping has been quite a feat!) "Hmph! You're dreaming!" "Didn't you think about it at all? This is already a stroke of luck—our two brothers being transported to the same spot at once. Even that gives us a better chance of survival than most others. To survive this encounter is nothing short of a miracle. How could you possibly think you're any more capable than that? You're playing such a foolish game of waiting passively for the right moment—what if someone unexpectedly shows up and knocks out both of us, even takes our lives? Don't you think the chances of finding anyone in this remote place are slim? The real strategy would be to head straight to the central area and fish for opportunities in the chaos!" The elder disciple from Lingshou Mountain clearly outshone the younger one in both strength and strategy, constantly observing and scanning the dense forest around them while delivering his rebuke. Seeing this, Han Li grew even more cautious, pushing his Qi-concealing technique to its absolute limit, completely silencing his breath and ensuring not a single trace of his presence escaped. As for the utterly foolish notion of "one against two," Han Li had never even considered it, let alone foolishly pursued it. One of them possessed the foundation level of the twelfth rank in magical power, the other the advanced level. Together, they posed a formidable challenge—Han Li simply lacked the extraordinary ability to single-handedly withstand a hundred adversaries. Thus, he could only watch helplessly as they cleared the last few strands of cold tobacco from the edge of the pond and completely burned the bodies of the Tian Qu堡 disciples to ash. Only then did the two of them collect the frozen toad into a red leather bag and vanish into the dense woods on the opposite side. Immediately after their departure, Han Li did not rise right away. Instead, he waited a while, then shook off the fallen leaves from his body, straightened up, and gazed thoughtfully toward the direction where they had disappeared. It seemed that others shared his own expectations. After all, who among those daring enough to risk their lives and participate in the Blood-Colored Trial wouldn't wish to secure the celestial and spiritual treasures located in the central region? A fierce confrontation was inevitable. After all, the generation and maturation of celestial herbs capable of nourishing the realm were truly limited—far from sufficient to distribute evenly. Han Li stood in place, his face darkened with frustration, and inwardly sighed. He had personally witnessed a blue-robed figure acting with such caution and diligence, no less than his own, simply vanish without a trace. And such incidents had occurred repeatedly in the corners of the sanctuary. This only further undermined his confidence in achieving his goals. Now, he found himself genuinely uncertain whether this journey to the sanctuary had been a success or a failure. Perhaps, all he needed was to take those two foundation pills and achieve foundation-level cultivation—there was no real necessity in risking such a journey. Han Li felt discouraged, his resolve wavering slightly. Though speaking of it was easy, the weight of the shadow of death pressing upon his heart made him feel uneasy. Several hours later, Han Li finally set out, continuing his path toward the heart of the sanctuary. After a moment of reflection, Han Li's reason prevailed, realizing that the careful thoughts he had just expressed were merely excuses for his own timidity. With renewed determination, he set out once again. Han Li did not follow the two companions closely, but instead took a slightly detour, advancing in a more indirect route—even though their path was the shortest and fastest. He was not concerned that the two from Lingshu Mountain could detect him through their own abilities, but rather wary of their unusual methods of summoning and guiding their beasts. He wondered whether they possessed special means to detect his presence through subtle means, or whether it would be wiser simply to maintain a respectful distance. After all, when he had once tracked and monitored certain individuals from afar using just a small, nascent cloud-winged bird with rudimentary human understanding, he had already found the method effective. It was likely that the Lingshu Mountain's approach—being refined by cultivators—would be even more concealed and enigmatic, far surpassing the techniques of ordinary laymen. Speaking of the cloud-winged bird, Han Li felt a sense of frustration. When he first entered Huangfeng Valley, in order not to draw attention, he had released the Yunchi bird into the Taishan Mountain range, allowing it to roam freely. Initially, the bird frequently returned to him, seeking out his favorite "Huanglisi balls" to eat. However, over time, the frequency of its visits gradually decreased. When Han Li realized his mistake, the bird had already fully developed a wild nature and, after one particular flight, vanished completely—never to return. This left Han Li deeply saddened, as otherwise, this journey to the sacred realm would have greatly benefited from the bird's presence. Han Li did not know that this seemingly indirect decision had truly saved him from a potential disaster. The two spiritual beasts from the Mountain of the Divine Beasts, since they had set out together from Wulong Spring, each released vast swarms of colorful, fluttering moths from their respective pockets. As soon as these vibrant insects took flight, they scattered immediately, densely filling the area within hundreds of paces. Their colors gradually shifted and blended with the surrounding scenery, eventually merging into hues that were nearly indistinguishable from the landscape unless one looked closely. Even those who were attentive enough to notice the moths often regarded them as native creatures of the sanctuary, without raising any suspicion. Thus, these colorful moths became natural sentinels for the two individuals—whenever someone approached their watch range, the two would instantly be alerted and could prepare accordingly. This living, insect-based early-warning network proved utterly effective and was a hallmark skill of the disciples of Lingshou Mountain. Even among other sect disciples who were already aware of this phenomenon, the moths remained completely impervious, making it impossible for any stealthy assault to succeed without being detected. In fact, Han Li had already experienced a significant stroke of luck during his stay at Wulong Spring. The two spirit-beast figures did not release their colorful moths at the water pool; they only began doing so after leaving. Otherwise, Han Li would have inevitably been discovered by their search. This was no mere oversight on their part—they hadn't forgotten the matter—but rather, these moths were naturally averse to cold. Even a slight drop in temperature would cause them to freeze and perish, which was truly a pity. The water of Wulong Pool was inherently peculiar and astonishingly cold, turning a large area around the pool into a winter landscape. Under such circumstances, how could they have dared to release the moths, risking their lives? Han Li was completely unaware of his escape from this peril, standing silently beneath a strange cliff, gazing at the two lifeless bodies below, their appearances tragic and grim. One of the bodies wore a dark, fitted robe, with a broad, sturdy frame and large hands. A thin, deep red streak of blood ran along the neck, and the eyes were wide open, the face filled with expressions of reluctance and unrest—clearly, the deceased had died with great dissatisfaction. This figure appeared to be a disciple from the Giant Sword Sect. Another body, of medium build, with flesh and blood scattered all over, most strikingly, its face completely devoid of facial features—sliced clean through from just in front of the face all the way into the skull by a massive sword, leaving the entire body firmly pinned to the ground, with brain matter and blood pooling out in a thick trail. Yet, wrapped around the ring finger of its curled right hand were a series of strange, translucent threads, faintly shimmering under the sunlight. Han Li raised his head, gazing steadily at the cliff top, though his mind had already reached a clear conclusion, and in his thoughts he had already visualized most of the scene—the two parties meeting and immediately launching a decisive confrontation. Based on various indications, the members of Ju Jian Men were likely one step ahead in strength compared to Han Li’s senior brother. The bloodied, mangled state of the yellow-robed corpse, and the determined expression on the black-robed man’s head, clearly demonstrated this. Though the unnamed fellow brother was currently at a disadvantage, he clearly was a strategic thinker—his weapon was a transparent silk thread. He had surely exploited the black-robed man’s confidence in securing victory, launching a surprise attack at the final moment, cutting off the opponent’s head and resulting in the death of a Ju Jian Men member. Yet he clearly did not expect, for some unknown reason, that the black-robed warrior, even in his final moments, had the strength to launch his massive sword and strike down—either because the opponent was too severely wounded to evade, or because the fellow disciple in yellow robes, having secured victory, made a similar mistake—firmly into the ground, resulting in a devastating, blood-soaked battle with no clear victor.