After another transformation, the spectral soul emitted a grim laugh. The Tiansha Magus Corpse, which had previously remained motionless before Han Li, suddenly roared low. Its two arms moved suddenly, and countless green claw shadows shot forth with a series of sharp crackling sounds, sweeping down toward the space in front. Black light flickered, and the spectral soul—its dual-headed, four-armed form—materialized like a phantom within the green claw shadows. A flash of sternness passed across the grim face of the spectral soul. With a gentle gesture of one arm toward the claw shadows, a denser, sharper array of claw points erupted before it, their crackling sounds more piercing than before. Upon contact, the black light effortlessly tore through the green claw shadows, and the arm suddenly expanded several feet in length, transforming into a black silhouette that plunged its five fingers directly into the corpse’s chest—solid as golden stone. As the fingers retracted, a blood hole the size of a bowl was extracted, gushing out thick streams of black corpse blood. Though this was a severe wound that would typically prove fatal to ordinary cultivators, it only caused a sharp pain in the chest of the magus corpse. Instead, it became wildly agitated! Not only did it not retreat, but one of its arms flashed with intense green light, instantly transforming into a three-colored, spear-like cone several feet long, which it drove straight at the spirit-mind. The spirit-mind emitted a soft "ah," either surprised by the sheer vitality of the corpse spirit or by the sudden emergence of the cone. Yet, after this brief expression of surprise, it sneered. With its two arms moving like phantom limbs toward its chest, the cone was immediately caught and firmly sandwiched between the two dark, hard-shelled palms, unable to advance another inch. Then, the ghost-faced creature narrowed its mouth in a grim smile, suddenly grasping and twisting the cone with great force, intent on snapping it in two. A soft "pffft" sound, and before the full force of the twist could be applied, the cone burst apart on its own. Suddenly, a bloom of three-colored insect clouds materialized there, and without hesitation, it surged directly over the spirit-mind. At such a close range, such an unexpected upheaval, even a mage whose magic had been pushed to its absolute peak was utterly astonished. As the cloud of insects loomed ready to descend, the mage's face hardened, and suddenly, with a deep breath, waves of black energy surged forth from his mouth, instantly encircling the three-colored insect cloud just inches away. At that very moment, a dark fist materialized behind the corpse specter, gently tapping it with a reverse motion. Though the movement appeared slow, the spectral body managed only to tilt its head slightly before the fist reached its face. Simultaneously, a black bone spike, about a foot long, shot out from the fist and pierced the side of the corpse specter, emerging on the opposite side. The specter instantly trembled, halting all its movements. The spectral soul smiled grimly, and suddenly black flames flared up on the bone spike, roaring to life. As the spike was retracted, the specter shuddered under the flickering black flames and began to fall toward the ground. From the moment the spectral soul entered the insect cloud and transformed, to the moment it used the bone spike to defeat the corpse specter—though it seemed lengthy, it actually lasted only a matter of eye blinks. When Han Li first saw the spectral soul approaching him and the celestial-magic corpse advancing, he instinctively stepped backward and shot away, without hesitation, to increase the distance between himself and the creature. At the same time, he pointed at the numerous golden sword lights swirling above his head, using his sword technique to weave them into a seamless flow, transforming each fragmented sword shadow into cascading waves of golden light. With a mere flick of his awareness, Han Li intended to press these golden waves downward toward the location of the demonic soul. Yet, in this brief delay, the dual-headed, six-armed demonic soul had already shattered the stationary Tianjue demonic corpse that had remained in place. Han Li drew in a sharp breath, feeling both dismay and physical pain. This Tianjue corpse—he had only recently cultivated it to a usable state—and had just been summoned here for the first time, only to be easily defeated by the ancient demon before him. Now, relying solely on its corpse-body, it lay lifeless on the ground, seemingly not only unconscious but completely devoid of combat capability. While thinking this, Han Li simultaneously focused his awareness on two tasks. The tiger spirit automaton, which had been scattered and shaken by the wave of energy, had now regained its stability and once again surged forward, its white light flashing, to attack the demonic soul. The colossal turtle puppets, just like Han Li, began dispersing and shooting out beams of blue light from their mouths, their blue glow flickering as they prepared to emit another column of icy radiance. Meanwhile, the dense array of sword shadows hovering above Han Li's head were already being crushed beneath the roaring pressure of the Magus' Veil. Upon seeing this, the Magus coldly exhaled, then gently waved his four magical arms. Instantly, black spines—of varying shapes, some curved, others straight—sprouted from the elbows of his long arms and the tips of his palms, each radiating a sharp, cold gleam of frosty brilliance, as sharp as blades. Before the tiger spirit puppets could close in, the Magus vanished completely in a sudden "whoosh," leaving all attacks abruptly without targets and momentarily halted. A flash of black light then revealed him materializing seamlessly behind one of the tiger puppets. With a gentle sweep of his four arms, a series of crisp "shush" sounds echoed through the air. Several streaks of black light flashed across the tiger puppet's body, and it instantly disintegrated, crumbling into mere scrap metal and rusted iron. With a single movement, the spirit-mage vanished once more. Black light flashed beside the second puppet, and a thick bone spine pierced through its chest, instantly knocking it down and causing it to collapse... From afar, Han Li was both astonished and furious, commanding his golden sword shadows to relentlessly pursue the spirit-mage. Yet this spirit-mage would sometimes vanish from its original spot, only to reappear mysteriously at unexpected locations. With its greatly enhanced cultivation, the spirit-mage's evasive techniques and concealment methods worked in perfect harmony, making it nearly impossible for the tiger puppet to form a surrounding encirclement or even withstand sustained defense. Han Li, who had always prided himself on his superior close-quarters combat skills compared to ordinary cultivators, now felt a deep chill at the sight of the spirit-mage's maneuvers—his own close-range abilities seemed utterly insignificant in comparison. Even with the aid of his Qing-Ming Spiritual Eye, he could not manage to lock onto the spirit-mage. As he stood in awe, the spirit-mage calmly withdrew the bone spine from the final tiger puppet's neck and then glanced at Han Li with a composed, indifferent expression. The cold radiating from his eyes made Han Li feel his heart sink, his nerves tingle. Since he had attained full Yuan婴 stage, this sense of uncertainty and wavering had been absent for a long time. Yet now it surged back to the forefront of his mind. Han Li exhaled deeply, striving to remain composed. It now seemed clear that, with the other party's seemingly instantaneous, elusive movement, it would be difficult to calmly deploy the Dageng Sword Array. He would have to rely on alternative means to buy time. With this in mind, Han Li raised his finger solemnly toward the sword shadows in the air. Instantly, the sword lights resonated in a clear chorus, then suddenly turned and surged back, converging directly above Han Li’s head. Then, the golden light rippled and danced, the sword beams coalescing into cascading waves of gold that shielded Han Li completely, unbroken by wind or rain. Next, Han Li pressed his palms together in a series of gestures. Thunder rolled from within him, and thick golden arcs emerged from his body, while countless fine electric arcs intertwined and never faded, weaving together into a shimmering golden electric garment that gleamed brilliantly, striking a vivid contrast At the same time, a brilliant sphere of purple light erupted from his mouth. After a sharp "crack," the purple flame swelled by a foot. Then, a high-pitched cry resonated from within the sphere, and a purple fire bird—about a foot long—materialized mid-air, circling continuously around Han Li, its wings flapping constantly. It scattered blossoms of sparkling purple sparks that flickered and danced with vibrant beauty. Within the sword's body, a faint black aura circulated steadily, appearing most peculiar. This was precisely the Blood Demon Sword obtained from the white-robed woman. As soon as the small crimson sword materialized, it trembled and hummed on its own, without waiting for Han Li to activate it, and a strong scent of blood immediately spread throughout the area. Han Li knew that disturbing this sword would bring serious consequences; yet, now with his life hanging in the balance, he could not afford to delay. He simply opened his mouth and expelled a ball of clear, misty essence onto the sword. The sword glowed with a vivid blood hue, instantly growing to a length of nearly a foot and rising into suspension. Han Li, his expression serious, grasped the hilt firmly, glanced at it, then gently waved it. Immediately, he felt a substantial flow of true energy surging into the sword, prompting him to be startled—he swiftly severed the connection of magical force, murmuring to himself that this sword was indeed unusual. Only then did Han Li take up the sword single-handedly and gaze coldly at the demon soul across from him. The magically embodied spirit, who had been steadily fierce, suddenly displayed a marked expression of surprise upon seeing Han Li present the Blood Demon Sword, his gaze fixed intently on the blade without blinking. Han Li, upon observing this reaction, was momentarily taken aback, his mind filled with growing curiosity. "Excellent! I didn't expect you to still possess one of the holy artifacts left behind by our ancient realm. If you now agree to hand this artifact over to me, I will spare your life and allow you to depart." After a brief pause, the spirit finally confirmed that the sword in Han Li's hands was precisely the one he had been seeking, and with a flicker of satisfaction, he spoke these words. "A holy artifact? Is this something from your ancient demon realm?" Han Li naturally felt deeply surprised, frowning slightly as he asked. "Hmph. The affairs of the Holy Realm are of no concern to you. I only ask whether you agree!" The spirit showed no intention of elaborating further, his eyes blazing, his voice now cold and stern. "Should you be a human cultivator, and if you wish to preserve your life, then I shall certainly agree." As for you, huh...”Han Li's eyes rolled, and a cold, mocking expression appeared on his face.