Han Li sat quietly in the room, not knowing how long he had remained still. After the journey had drained a little of his spiritual energy, when he finally opened his eyes and checked his inner condition, a gentle smile appeared on his face. Since he had practiced the Qingyuan Sword Technique to the tenth level, he had clearly noticed a significant improvement in his ability to restore spiritual energy—this had turned out to be an unexpected delight. With this thought in mind, Han Li paused, then reached into his cloak and pulled out a dark, lustrous wooden chest. Several green-tinged sealing talismans were affixed to the lid. With a single hand movement, he brushed the talismans off, and they fell away, transforming into streaks of green light that flew into his sleeve. Then, with a gentle tap of his finger on the chest, the lid opened of its own accord, revealing what lay inside. A palm-sized talisman, adorned with intricate characters, rested quietly within. Subtly, a small crimson dragon seemed to swim continuously beneath the surface of the talisman. Han Li extended his hand and gently waved at the scroll. Instantly, the scroll shot forward, spiraling once before landing softly in his hand. After several days of effort and three consecutive failures, he finally succeeded in crafting this scroll. Though he was uncertain of its power, he was confident that the "Spirit-Reducing Scroll" had lost much of its potency compared to what was described in the crafting method. After all, the three failed attempts had drained nearly half of the spirit power of the eighth-level蛟 soul, and its true effectiveness could only be truly tested in actual combat. With his fingers tracing the various characters on the scroll's surface, Han Li沉思, his expression shifting between contemplative and uncertain. Meanwhile, at a stone chamber located twenty to thirty feet beneath the ground, some distance from the Tiannan Camp, several enigmatic figures gathered around a stone table, discussing matters of importance. Five men and two women were present, among whom one man and one woman wore black robes, their faces completely concealed. Among the others, two were individuals known to Han Li. One was the Lady Lu, who had urged the ancient lamp during the battle on Huanglong Mountain and had caused him considerable setbacks. The other was the middle-aged scholar who had pursued him for several days and nights, severely draining his vital energy—the Master Zhong. The remaining three men were an elderly, thin, dark-haired man; a short man, barely four feet tall; and a well-dressed, imposing man in a fine robe. "Brother Zhong, your grand magical array should be solid, right? Compared to the southern sky cultivators, our magicians have both fewer and lower-quality tools—so we can only rely on our magical array to counter their attacks." The elder turned to the middle-aged scholar. "No worries. I've spent hundreds of years studying magical arrays, and my efforts aren't in vain. I've already passed on several newly refined array designs to them. If the southern cultivators still judge this battle based on the power of their original magical arrays, they'll be utterly surprised." The scholar spoke calmly. "That's all that matters! Brother Bi, as soon as the battle begins, have all the senior magicians summon their spirit beasts and launch them forward to draw off the southern cultivators' attacks, gradually draining their magical energy. And Master Fang, this will also require the cooperation of your great beasts." The thin elder gave a few instructions to the shorter man, then politely addressed the man dressed in black. "Before the battle begins, I'll hand over those great beasts to you." But will the noble house not back down after the matter is settled?" After readily agreeing, the cloaked man added with a thoughtful tone. "Back down? Brother Fang is jesting. After just having fought a battle with the cultivators, would our Mulan clan ever do something foolish enough to offend your esteemed sect? After all, your Yin Luo Sect is one of the Ten Great Mage Sects of the Great Jin Dynasty. Once we secure the southern heavens, we will certainly take care to rest and preserve our strength. Handing over a few mortal states to your sect—though it may seem significant—isn't anything to be overly concerned about. Besides, these mortal states are all ruled by the Yan clan, and we will pay no attention to their rise or fall at all." The thin, elderly man's eyes flashed several times, then spoke with unwavering composure. "That's reassuring. This time, had it not been for the destruction of several of our Sect's foundational treasures—the 'Gui Luo Fan'—by the orthodox forces, who have damaged them in battle, and who now urgently require a large number of living souls for restoration, we would never have become involved in the disputes between your cultivators and the southern cultivators. Indeed, "We may not fear them, but the restoration of the treasures must not be delayed," the cloaked man said, nodding, his voice emotionless. "Also, all the immortal souls who perished in this great battle will now return to our sect. Does Master Zhu not agree on this point?" The cloaked woman spoke up as well, but her voice was thick and hoarse, quite out of proportion with her slender frame—anyone hearing it for the first time would be startled. "As for the immortal cultivators, we naturally won't interfere. But as for the souls of the magicians—can you not identify and release them? Recently, you've been collecting the souls of the fallen without restraint. This has already left us three elderly ones quite at a loss. We can make up for this in other ways." Upon hearing this, the thin, elderly man's expression slightly changed, and he replied. "That won't do. The souls of cultivators and magicians are fundamentally indistinguishable from one another—there's no way to differentiate them." Moreover, how could we possibly identify them all? In the battle tomorrow, thousands of the fallen mage-monks will surely perish—how could we possibly recognize each one individually? Are the three senior diviners planning to breach their promise on this matter?" The black-robed man narrowed his eyes, his pupils instantly turning a vivid green, and a cold, eerie atmosphere radiated from his body. The scholar with the middle surname and the short man named Bi, observing this, felt quietly annoyed, though they made no outward move—yet the former subtly revealed a faint silver glow, while the latter flashed a warm red light, both silently fixing their gaze on the black-robed man. The well-dressed man in the silk robe and the woman named Le also stared coldly at the black-robed man, their expressions clearly displeased. After all, the matter of gathering the souls of the fallen mage-monks had long been a source of frustration for them. Had it not been for their absolute dependence on these Jin State magi, they would have already resorted to open conflict. "Hush! Stop! What are you doing? The Master of the Hall was personally invited by me—do you not intend to show him the proper respect?" The elder cleared his throat On the other side, the cloaked woman also slightly moved her lips, whispering something to the cloaked man. Upon hearing this, the green light in the cloaked man's eyes gradually faded, and the strange cold aura surrounding him flashed briefly before vanishing entirely. The scholars and scholars observed this, exhaled softly, and then released their spiritual energies as well. They all knew that although they didn't particularly like each other, at present it was a matter of mutual benefit, not a time for internal conflict. "How about this—your living souls may be taken, but the process must be carried out secretly after the battle, without anyone noticing. Otherwise, we simply won't be able to contain the people below." After a moment's hesitation, the thin, elderly scholar finally bit his lip and said this. "Agreed. This condition, our sect can accept," replied the cloaked man, nodding with a few flashes of his eyes and yielding slightly. Though the scholars still harbored some reservations, they had no choice but to accept. "Will your preparations for the duel truly work? Don't let us end up making a mess." To be sure, there are also magi cultivators in the southern realm—don't let them catch you off guard at first glance." The tall, robe-clad man, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke softly. "Magi cultivators? They certainly are—though only those with a rudimentary grasp of cultivation techniques. Some of them are even overly clever, having completely reworked their magical methods into something entirely different. How could they possibly comprehend the true power of ancient, authentic magical arts?" The man in black scoffed, speaking with clear disdain. "Indeed! Yet, one of our senior elders was recently instantly eliminated by a cultivator of the same rank from the southern realm. I think the Master of the Fang Sect should not underestimate them." The short man with the surname Bi gave a slight smirk, speaking with a touch of irony. The man in black's expression grew colder, and he merely huffed, offering no immediate rebuttal. Yet, the woman in black robes seized the opportunity to speak. "Actually, I've been meaning to bring up this matter. The cultivator who can emit golden arcs is of considerable value to our Yin Luo Sect. We would like to request that the three senior deities hand this cultivator over "It's yours!" The thin, elderly man paused, pondering. "Now, isn't this a minor request? Are you three truly unwilling to accept it?" The black-robed woman seemed slightly displeased, her voice growing rougher and more strained. "Should it merely be a Yuan-Stage cultivator of the initial rank, then naturally, I would have no issue handing him over to you two. But if the golden thunder bamboo artifact is involved—that changes everything." The elder fixed his gaze on the black-robed woman, a strange smile forming between the lines of his deeply etched wrinkles, speaking slowly and deliberately. "Master Zhù has already guessed it, hasn't he?" The woman's heart sank slightly, surprised. "Though our Mùlán Grassland may be somewhat modest, I still know a few things about the Three Sacred Divine Trees of the cultivation world. The Divine Thunder of the Exorcising Evil is known by only a few, but we have not been able to keep it hidden from our own circle." The elder spoke with calm assurance. "Since you are aware of the Divine Thunder of the Exorcising Evil, you must understand that our Magistrate Sect cannot allow this treasure to fall into the hands of others. Then The man in black perceived the other's intent and asked coldly. "It's simple. Besides bringing over more than a dozen great beasts, we have also transported a considerable number of bronze-armored corpse soldiers. I hope Brother Fang will release these troops at the crucial moment of tomorrow's battle, lending us vital support. After all, no matter how well-prepared we are, we cannot be certain how the cultivators will respond. Therefore, we must remain particularly cautious." The elder's lines of wrinkles gently trembled, as if smiling slightly. "Ah! I didn't expect Brother Zhu to be so well-informed about our sect's secret techniques. While bronze-armored corpse soldiers are relatively easy to produce, losing too many of them in one go would be detrimental to our long-term development. Should this condition be accepted, then the celestial southern cultivator who commands the Divine-Defying Thunder must be captured alive and delivered to our sect." After a moment's thought, the man in black did not immediately refuse, but instead proposed his own terms.