Staring at the blood-soaked bone hand protruding from her abdomen, Hu Yue's eyes widened. "Crack!" The blue orb in her hand shattered into fragments, and then the bone hand suddenly vanished. Hu Yue gasped, sinking softly to the ground as the hand withdrew, blood gushing continuously from the wound, filling the hall with a thick, pervasive scent of blood. Though she had not yet died, she was clearly on the brink of passing. The cries of Jin Qing and Shi Die, the explosive sounds, and the whistles of their magical artifacts reached her ears one after another, and her life memories—her childhood poverty, the family's joy when her spiritual root was discovered, the helplessness when her beloved sister married someone else, the pride upon achieving Dan Stage, her relentless ambition to form a Yuan Ying—flooded in like a rapid procession. All of it seemed to be drifting away, fading as her limbs grew cold. Yet Hu Yue was not willing to accept it! He possessed three flying dagger法宝; ordinarily, he deployed only two to engage enemies, while the third remained always with him. The third flying dagger had been crafted through a special secret method—though its offensive power when launched was average, it excelled remarkably in spiritual awareness and protective capabilities compared to ordinary法宝. Moreover, he had invested immense effort in refining this treasure, and recently it had already reached the level of spiritual attunement. When facing sudden attacks from others, even without explicit command, this treasure should be able to sense the assailant's intent and automatically provide protective coverage! "Unless it's attacking him..." Finally, Hu Yue recalled something last, with the last of her strength, slightly turning her head, and finally catching a glimpse of what lay behind her. A pale shadow was closely pursuing Jin Qing, who, encased in a swirling silver glow, kept retreating and continuously launching his own法宝 to strike the shadow, clearly terrified of it. On the other side, Han Li and the others were trapped within a vast expanse of dark mist. Han Li, however, now held a crimson scroll, from which countless fire swallows—each the size of a clenched fist—flew out and formed a massive ring of flame, continuously striking the dark mist to keep it at bay. Qu Hu and Shi Die stood closely behind Han Li. Qu Hu's body was encased in a shimmering glow of blood, her hands constantly releasing waves of purple flame to disperse the dark mist that surged into the fire ring. Shi Die, meanwhile, held a luminous, milky orb in her hands, its radiant light repelling any stray tendrils of mist that managed to slip through, though her eyes still betrayed a clear sense of alarm. Hu Yue paid no attention to the dark mist and instead strained to watch the pale shadow chasing Jin Qing. Indeed, it was the white skeletal remains of a body that had been dead for countless years—yet now it emitted a steady mist of white vapor and leapt with remarkable agility, far from the stiff appearance of a lifeless corpse. Hu Yue sighed, her expression one of sorrow. A cultivator at the Ji Dan stage had been outwitted by a mere corpse skeleton—what a ridiculous turn of events! With this self-mocking thought, Hu Yue's consciousness darkened, and she fell into an endless slumber, though a faint trace of self-mockery remained on her lips. At the very moment Hu Yue passed away, Han Li's expression grew solemn, and he continuously scanned the surroundings. Moments before, as Hu Yue was suddenly attacked by the leaping white bones, a vast expanse of cold ghost mist surged forth from the nearby walls, instantly trapping several of them. Fortunately, Han Li had been well-prepared. Without hesitation, he unfurled the scroll he had just received, and from within it, numerous luminous birds emerged, each glowing with an inner flame. These birds—resembling ordinary swallows but enveloped in a radiant, fiery aura—known as the "Zhi Yang Birds"—Han Li had read about in an ancient text. They originated in the midst of refined flames and fed exclusively on the spirits of ghosts and demons, making them renowned as powerful adversaries of the阴 (yin) realm. Yet this bird had already gone extinct within the immortal cultivation realm. The scroll merely sealed a fragment of its spirit, allowing only a partial manifestation of the "Lizh阳 Bird"—a mere copy. Though these copies resembled the true "Lizh阳 Bird" in appearance, their power was vastly inferior. Otherwise, these black ghost mists would have been completely absorbed by the two cleansers, rather than merely temporarily dispersed. Friction between these persistent ghost mists did not trouble Han Li much. Whether it was the "Green Bamboo Bee Cloud Sword" or the gold-eating insects, both could easily dispel them. What troubled him slightly was the ghost mist master who remained hidden in the background, yet had not yet made an appearance. As for that white bone, he could see it clearly—there was no genuine spiritual awareness present; it was simply a puppet manipulated by someone else. Yet this white bone was peculiar. Despite being struck repeatedly by Jin Qing's divine artifacts, it remained unharmed. Clearly, there was some hidden secret within it. As Han Li pondered this, ghost cries echoed around him, intermittent and fragmented. Their voices were chilling, neither distinctly male nor female, sharp and piercing, sending waves of agitation through the listeners' blood and unsettling their minds. Han Li felt a sudden surge of alertness, instantly opening his awareness and enveloping the entire hall within it. At the same time, with a gentle flick of his fingers, two small green swords materialized before him, rotating slowly around him. "Whoever you are, pretending to be a spirit, come forth and reveal yourselves!" Jin Qing, clearly agitated by the eerie sounds, suddenly roared. Though the voice was not loud, it resonated powerfully, causing the hall to vibrate with a steady hum. The ghostly wails ceased instantly. Even more remarkable, when his divine artifact struck the white bones once more, the bones shattered into fragments, no longer forming a coherent human shape. Jin Qing was both astonished and delighted. At the same time, the ghostly mist that had previously tightly confined Han Li and the others suddenly contracted and swiftly retreated back into the walls around the hall. Han Li was deeply surprised. He had not expected Jin Qing's single, forceful shout to possess such remarkable power. At that moment, the stone butterfly behind Han Li turned around and rushed toward the stone steps behind her, reaching the steps and stepping onto them in a matter of eye blinks. Seeing this, Han Li remained expressionless, while Jin Qing's face turned pale with growing outrage. How could this woman suddenly abandon her post? Though the stone butterfly's magical prowess was modest, her precious pearl clearly exerted a strong counter-effect against the ghost mists—she could not let her simply escape. With this thought, Jin Qing opened her mouth without hesitation to stop her. Yet, just then, another unexpected development occurred! As the stone butterfly had only taken two steps forward, a sudden flash of green light erupted from one side of the stone wall, and a terrifying ghost claw burst forth unexpectedly. The claw, with slender, pointed fingers and a uniformly jade-green hue, pierced the female cultivator's chest with a speed imperceptible to the naked eye. The stone butterfly screamed in agony, desperately intensifying the glow of her pearl to try and free herself. But this ghostly hand seemed utterly unafraid, instead dark ghostly energy surging forth from the ghostly claws and instantly enveloping the stone butterfly within it. The woman's cry abruptly ceased. Then, a skeletal, dry corpse was hurled out from the black mist, landing precisely before Han Li and Qu Hun. Han Li glanced down at the corpse, its flesh completely gone, and his face turned slightly pale. Jin Qing, meanwhile, had already grown pale, clutching tightly to her white seal artifact and constantly glancing around in anxious anticipation. "Ha! I require a suitable body," came a cold, scornful laugh echoing from around the hall, "So, which of you three shall offer yourselves?" Upon hearing this, Han Li's eyes flashed with cold determination. He unfolded his scroll once more, and the numerous fire phoenixes hovering around him suddenly swooped in like young swallows returning to their nest, all flying back into the scroll. Then, Han Li pressed his palms together, darkening his expression and forming a series of hand seals. A loud "pffft!" sound, and a colossal "lipid phoenix," measuring over a zhang in length, burst forth from the scroll. Its flames blazed brilliantly, circling above Han Li's head before it spread its wings and soared toward a stone pillar in the hall. A tremendous roar echoed as it approached. Just as the giant bird seemed about to strike the pillar, a flash of green light illuminated the scene, and a strange serpent, formed of black mist, surged out from within the pillar, meeting the phoenix in mid-air. The phoenix exhaled a stream of scorching, white, refined fire, while the serpent released a wave of dark, cold breath—thus, a fierce battle between phoenix and serpent erupted within the hall. This was a figure of jade green hue, radiating a crystalline glow that made it impossible to discern his true face. Several thick, arm-sized bands of black mist coiled around his body, and his eyes were vividly crimson, as if dripping with blood. After a single glance at Han Li and Jin Qing, both of them felt an intense cold rush up their backs, as though the figure had penetrated every thought in their minds. They exchanged glances, each seeing the other's startled expression. The sheer pressure exerted merely by his gaze indicated that the figure's cultivation far surpassed theirs—could he possibly be a Yuan婴-stage cultivator? Yet, the figure's appearance seemed more akin to a ghostly presence than a stranger. If indeed a fierce spirit, why did he speak so clearly and coherently, with no sign of mental disarray?