At this point, Han Li had already arrived at the foot of a small mountain some two thousand li away, his appearance having dramatically changed—he now appeared as a middle-aged man with three long strands of white hair. At present, he had no inner qi at all, having reverted completely to an ordinary physical cultivator. His eyes were slightly closed, seated calmly upon a piece of green stone, with no expression on his face. After a while, Han Li suddenly opened his eyes, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and murmured, "Finally, I've completely dispersed the last trace of fire qi within me. Unless they personally come to inspect me, no one will be able to detect the difference." Nevertheless, Han Li still had no intention of leaving immediately. It was precisely now that he was at his peak of visibility, and even though he had altered his appearance and aura, he was unwilling to take any risks. So he leapt down from the stone, then made several jumps and soared upward toward the mountain. Not long afterward, he reached the cliff completely concealed by countless vines and shrubs. Han Li glanced around, nodded in satisfaction, then took a deep breath. Suddenly, his two fists glowed golden, and he struck the stone wall in front of him in a continuous sequence. Besides continuously radiating a deep crimson glow, the vial was otherwise utterly ordinary—its surface felt exceptionally smooth, as if made of common porcelain. Han Li gently traced the small vial with his fingers, murmuring to himself while his mind involuntarily recalled all he remembered about the nameless race, the Devourer of Flame, and their connection to divine blood. After a while, frowning slightly, he withdrew a jade circular basin from his storage bracelet, palm-sized, and then carefully opened the lid of the crimson vial, tilting it slightly and pouring the contents into the basin. As the purple light rippled along the vial's mouth, it took several moments before only about seven or eight drops of deep purple liquid finally seeped out, each one falling individually onto the basin and instantly dispersing into droplets—unable to coalesce into a single pool. Han Li narrowed his eyes, observing closely for a moment before extending a finger and lightly touching one of the droplets. At the very instant his fingertip made contact—seeming almost to brush rather than press—the purple liquid suddenly leapt upward, swiftly enveloping his fingertip as though intent on absorbing it completely. Yet, with a slight lift of her brow, a flash of golden light rippled along her fingers, severing the deep purple liquid from her skin, and then with a gentle shake, the liquid slid back into the round basin. "Indeed, it is no mere coincidence—this is truly the divine blood of the immortal race," said Han Li, his eyes gleaming with excitement. And after another two months, it reduced to just once a day, and the divine awareness deployed was clearly far weaker than before, indicating a clear change in the searchers. Yet Han Li remained silent, still hidden within the stone cave without venturing out. Thus, in the span of half a year, no divine awareness appeared at all. As soon as Han Li sensed this shift, he felt a surge of joy. However, he waited another few months before one day, suddenly blinking awake, he struck a punch that shattered the fragments at the cave entrance, then slowly stepped out. After surveying the surroundings and finding no unusual changes, he chuckled, waved his sleeve, and strode steadily toward the valley below. Soon, his figure vanished completely into the forest. A year later, a young physical cultivator with an unfamiliar face arrived in a small town near the city of Sunset. He hurriedly purchased a few items and then departed without a trace. Since the items were never recovered, the tale of the divine blood gradually began to spread. Moreover, as several cultivators and body-forge practitioners who had participated in the Three Clans War gradually confirmed the matter, it stirred widespread astonishment for several consecutive years. With Huangliang Lingjun, a cultivator at the Lingxu level, personally intervening, yet still allowing a mere Huashen cultivator to seize the treasure, it naturally amazed everyone. Huangliang Lingjun remained unconvinced and, upon returning to Luoyi City, continued to investigate the matter for several years, diligently seeking out the identity of the treasure-seizer. Yet, despite the remarkable abilities displayed by the seizer—each one truly extraordinary—he found himself utterly baffled, as the individual seemed to have emerged from nowhere, leaving absolutely no trace or clue behind. A few years later, after Huangliang Lingjun departed Luoyi City to join Huan Tian Qi in the Wild Frontier, the topic faded from public attention, and the matter of the divine blood remained unresolved. Years later, deep within the massive, majestic mountain far from human settlements, in a space surrounded by darkness as black as ink, a figure sat in stillness, its golden light gently pulsing. Beside the figure lay a small crimson bottle, lying horizontally on the ground, as though it had already been emptied. The seated figure remained motionless—save for the subtle rise and fall of its chest—it seemed carved from clay. For ordinary beings in the spiritual realm, a hundred years represented half a lifetime. Yet for a master cultivator of profound power, it was merely an instant in life. The elder had a face etched with deep wrinkles, yet the skin below his neck shone with a youthful luster and elasticity. His hands, bare and exposed beyond his sleeves, appeared dry and withered, like the branches of an old tree. Yet strangely, the nails on his ten fingers were several inches long, sharp and gleaming, and subtly pulsing with a faint red light, exuding an air of mystery. The young boy and girl across from him stared intently at the red glow, their eyes wide with curiosity. The elder made no attempt to conceal the unusual quality of his nails, merely smiling gently and remaining silent as he gazed at the two children. Suddenly, a series of hoofbeats echoed from outside the window, followed by a man's voice emerging clearly from beyond the animal carriage: "Report to Fire Elder—those sent ahead to clear the path have returned. All the herds and creatures of the Cloud Mountain region, spanning a thousand miles, have been completely eliminated." "Good work," the elder replied. Thus, our merchant house has opened yet another trade route, one that should remain stable for at least the next十余 years." The elder's expression brightened as he raised one hand and slowly drew the curtain open. To their sight, a sturdy middle-aged knight rode beside a snow-white, mutated giant wolf, respectfully following the beast-carriage. "Nevertheless, can you truly confirm that not a single spirit beast remains in this mountain? Should any particularly skilled, elusive creature have hidden well enough to escape detection by the spirit aura array, that would be entirely normal." The elder glanced at the knight, his tone suddenly becoming more serious. "This should not be the case. In addition to the spirit aura array, I personally invited several high-level cultivators to conduct thorough spiritual inspections of the entire mountain range—indeed, no spirit beasts remain here." The knight's face slightly tightened, but quickly affirmed. "Ah, then it seems all is well. Though the cultivators summoned were only at the Jiadian stage, the mountain itself is unlikely to harbor any high-tier spirit beasts." That will do. With a satisfied nod, the elder casually praised, reaching for the curtain to lower it. But just then, a sudden upheaval unfolded in the sky. A thunderous roar, like the earth splitting asunder, erupted from the distant heavens, followed by a continuous rumble. Thick clouds surged in from the sky, and a gusting wind roared across, instantly darkening the entire sky. The entire transformation had taken place in the span of a single instant—so swift that the elder had not even had time to fully close the curtain. "What in the world is that?" the middle-aged knight, standing outside the beast-car, stared upward, his eyes sweeping across the towering peak that rose like a mountain into the clouds, and gasped in astonishment. The elder furrowed his brow, then suddenly tapped the carriage with his hand, striking it three times with a sharp, rhythmic sound. The beast-car jolted to a halt. The elder pushed open the door, stepped out onto the open ground, and then looked up toward the lofty peak in the sky, just as the knight had. The man's face instantly paled. "A heavenly calamity! There's a cultivator undergoing the celestial storm! This is odd—neither a minor nor a major one, it seems." The elder stared in astonishment at the distant sky, where thunderous serpents of lightning danced across the mountain peak, his expression one of bewilderment. Already, the summit of the great mountain had turned as dark as the bottom of a pot. Waves of golden and silver arcs flickered and leapt among the clouds, and the deep, resonant rumbling came from that very direction. Below the dark clouds, swirling gusts of white, misty winds roared fiercely, constantly battering the mountain's summit, causing rocks to shatter and trees to fly apart. At this moment, the entire caravan halted, and the knights stood motionless, gaping in awe at a spectacle they might never have witnessed in their lifetimes. Meanwhile, several people from among the several animal-drawn vehicles rose into the air, spun slightly, and then swiftly flew toward the elder. (First update!