The obsidian blade indeed sliced through several layers of protection with the precision of chopping vegetables, effortlessly cleaving them in two. After delivering the magical soul strike and observing the three figures scattering in different directions, the mage cast a scornful glance at their retreating forms. At that moment, thousands of ice spears spread across his head, encasing him within their icy embrace. With a slight flick of his hands, the black great blade shimmered and transformed into a brilliant, dazzling beam. Then, with a gentle separation of his palms, the black light elongated and thinned, instantly becoming two slender, approximately two-zhang-long black luminous spears. He swung his arms in quick succession—one spear launched toward the elder, the other hurled back toward the silver-haired elder. Meanwhile, the mage himself stomped firmly on the ground, his form suddenly transforming into a streak of black light, racing directly toward Tianjing Zhenren. A sharp cry of impact echoed as the two black spears flashed and then mysteriously vanished mid-flight. The mage himself wavered slightly, appearing like a ghost, materializing twenty paces away, instantly escaping the reach of the ice spears. The Yuan-Enlightened elder, fully fleeing, was startled upon hearing a sharp, piercing spell emanating from behind. Without pausing to think, he suddenly launched the object he had already grasped in his hands. Instantly, an eight-sided silver plaque shot forth, forming a silver-white luminous veil that enveloped him. With a slight sense of relief, he hurried to turn around and gaze back. Yet, to his astonishment, the space behind him appeared utterly empty—nothing at all. He stood stunned, still trying to comprehend what was happening, when the sharp cry suddenly grew louder, almost at his very side. A flash of black light appeared, and the black spear, now strangely glowing, surged forward with the speed of a thunderbolt, striking the veil with a force that left no room for reaction. Under the elder's wide-eyed astonishment, the black and silver lights intertwined. As the spear vibrated violently, its body twisting and pulsing, a sharp "pop" sounded, and the veil was pierced like delicate paper. The spear then plunged into the elder's abdomen, bursting apart. The elder managed no cry of pain—his body instantly disintegrated into scattered fragments, flying outward in all directions. A Yuan-Stage immortal, surrounded by a halo of silver light, appeared at the spot, bewildered. It seemed to still not believe its body had been utterly destroyed. Yet, during this brief hesitation, the black streaks that had burst forth coalesced and solidified into a vast net, instantly enclosing the immortal within. Only then did the immortal register its alarm, quickly pressing hand seals, causing its outer silver glow to flash several times before vanishing abruptly—performing a teleportation. As the silver light flickered, the immortal plunged into the net and emerged in form. The black silk net tightened immediately, contracting with firmness, and within a blink, encased the immortal completely in a large, luminous sphere, suspending it motionless in the air. Meanwhile, the black spear that had been shot toward the silver-haired elder now materialized suddenly behind the Cheng-family elder. The silver-haired elder, whose vital energy had not yet recovered before entering the valley, now found himself even more at a loss in the face of such an unusual assault. Could only exclaim "Unfortunate!" and prepare to expel his Yuan婴 to escape, hoping to survive. Yet at that very moment, as the elder reached out, intense spatial tremors surged, and suddenly a blood-red swordlight, stretching a zhang in length, appeared before the black spear—its crimson hue vivid as fresh blood, radiating a powerful malevolent energy. Without hesitation, it struck the black spear with full force. After the light and blood streaks intertwined with the mountain stones, a sharp explosion followed, and both vanished completely, as if erased. The silvery-haired elder was overjoyed and immediately turned toward Han Li, only to find Han Li, pale-faced, slowly lowering the blood sword in his hands and offering a weak, polite smile. "Master Cheng," naturally felt deeply grateful toward his younger brother Han Li, and immediately surged with his full inner energy, swiftly flying to Han Li's side. The other Tianjing True Immortal, however, was far less fortunate. Upon seeing the elder's body destroyed and his Yuan婴 trapped nearby, his face instantly turned pale—so pale it seemed to lose all color—and his evasive light instantly increased by three levels. At that moment, the figure before him shimmered and took form—a strange, dual-headed, four-armed creature. Tianjing Zhenren's heart skipped a beat; he immediately halted his flight, and without further thought, opened his mouth to launch a small crystal sword. Under the guidance of a spell, the sword instantly split into dozens of dense, blazing-white sword beams, slashing wildly in all directions. The magical soul remained silent, twisting its form in an odd manner, and then vanished completely from the spot—leaving the sword beams to strike empty air. Tianjing Zhenren felt his spirits sink. A flash of luminous energy surged through his body, and he prepared to rise upward. But as his body began to move, a tremendous shockwave passed through his protective aura, accompanied by a series of deep thuds. His internal qi rapidly lost control and began to dissipate, halting his motion. "Unbelievable!" Tianjing Zhenren gasped in alarm, as the sound of his protective shield cracking followed closely. A dark magical claw, slicing through the air with a hissing sound, pierced through his abdomen and seized his vital essence, which was just about to break free and escape from his dantian. With a sudden jerk, Tianjing Zhiren's body and limbs grew loose, instantly losing all mobility. Then, black flames surged forth, swiftly engulfing his remains and reducing them to ash. Just as Tianjing Zhiren's immortal embryo was terrified, its soul trembling with shock, the five fingers gripping him suddenly relaxed—and the creature released its hold, gaining freedom. This development left the embryo astonished and delighted. Without pausing to ponder the reason, it flashed with a brilliant white light and instantly materialized ten or twelve zhang away. However, before it could make another instant transfer, the distant demonic spirit chuckled, slightly opened its mouth, and a purple silhouette flashed out. The embryo was pierced through by a long purple tongue from afar, and then, with a simple, effortless grasp, the demonic spirit's head, open like a blood-filled maw, swiftly drew the embryo into its mouth. After a brief chew, the demonic spirit's face shimmered with black light, revealing satisfaction. Then, it gestured toward the luminous sphere nearby, which was encasing another embryo. The sphere shot forth, and was likewise drawn into the demon's open maw, swallowed whole. After swallowing two Yuan-Stage cultivators in succession, the magical soul felt a significant boost in its spiritual energy and thus calmly turned around to face the only survivor among the group—the silver-haired elder—and Han Li standing beside him. With a swift flick of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he drew it back, his fierce expression now conveying a lingering sense of satisfaction. With this thought, he turned his head to glance at Han Li by his side. Han Li's face was unusually grave, yet his eyes remained calm and composed. Having laid out the Dageng Sword Array, he felt confident in his ability to hold his own, and thus his spirits had greatly lifted. He casually glanced toward the battle group hundreds of zhang away. There, the other ancient demon seemed to be adopting a steady, cautious strategy, releasing a broad expanse of dark magical flame that encircled Wei Wuyi's green cloud and continuously burned and weakened it. Originally spanning several mu, the jade-green toxic cloud had now shrunk to only about one mu, appearing increasingly unstable. While Liu Fu the Elder and the white-robed woman remained unharmed thanks to the protection of the green cloud, they were desperately summoning several of their precious artifacts to withstand the relentless assault of the magical fire. Han Li sighed inwardly, knowing that Wei Wuyi and his companions would not last much longer. Yet he could not afford to dwell on these matters and instead focused fully on the current demonic spirit, determined to see whether he could first eliminate it with the power of the array. At that moment, the distant spirit demon approached steadily toward Han Li. Han Li narrowed his eyes, then, without a word, raised his hand. A jade tablet shot forth from his grasp, and as the dark glow surged, a black ghost hand materialized, directly reaching out to grasp the spirit demon. At the same time, he swept his great sleeve, and dozens of green flying swords shot skyward from the sleeve. After a series of resonant hums, the green light intensified, and the swords coalesced into a massive, misty green blade, displaying an impressive presence. Han Li then formed hand seals, gently pointed at the spirit demon, and as the great blade swayed, it instantly vanished from the sky—only to reappear suddenly at the demon’s head, where it delivered a decisive strike. The spirit demon chuckled, then, with a simple twist of its hands, produced a black giant blade, which it swiftly swung to meet the descending green giant sword. Having observed that the green swords were one of Han Li’s primary spiritual artifacts, the demon now resolved to sever the blade with a single stroke, a calculated and ruthless strategy to shatter his opponent’s composure. As for the spectral claws rushing toward him, this demon raised only one arm with utter disdain, and a thick stream of black magical aura surged forth from his hand, instantly coiling into a black tentacle that swiftly ensnared and tightly wrapped the spectral claw, immobilizing it completely. The spectral claw strained desperately, tearing at the surrounding magical auras, yet in vain—these auras clung like parasites, reforming and reattaching ceaselessly, utterly unyielding. It naturally didn't know that, though the Qingzhu Fengyun Swords wielded by Han Li had been cultivated for only a short time and hadn't incorporated any Geng Jing, their power was quite limited. Yet in his early days, Han Li had refined them once using his crystallization technique. As a result, their hardness far surpassed that of ordinary artifacts, and nothing in this realm could instantly sever them. Although the magical blade forged by the magical aura's intense vibrations was exceptionally sharp—comparable to the finest flying swords and flying daggers of human cultivators—it simply lacked the strength to sever dozens of Qingzhu Fengyun Swords arranged into a massive blade within a short span of time. Just as the Magus was taken aback, the massive green sword suddenly erupted with thunderous sound, and countless golden arcs shot out from its surface, flashing brilliantly. The once-dominant black blade, upon making contact with these golden arcs, instantly collapsed and disintegrated with a sharp "popping" sound. The green sword, offering no resistance at all, carried the thick golden arcs forward and struck the Magus squarely on the head.