Han Li raised one hand, chanting a spell, and another white figure emerged, swiftly transforming into a woman in white robes. After a brief flicker, he continued to prepare a series of backup measures before finally summoning the Taiyi Huaqing Seal. As the silver glyphs shimmered, his form dissolved into intangibility. The ethereal body swiftly drifted toward a certain passage, with Han Li maintaining a completely expressionless face. After navigating several bends within the passage, a creamy-white stone cavern finally came into view at the end. Four faint, barely perceptible energies subtly radiated from within the cavern. Han Li narrowed his eyes slightly, yet his form continued to glide without pause. A moment later, he reached near the entrance of the cavern and simply glanced inside. The cavern was remarkably spacious—several times larger than the previous ones—its vast expanse of over a hundred zhang resembling a small plaza. In the center of the plaza, a semi-circular screen shimmering with a silvery glow rests like an enormous inverted bowl. Within it, faintly visible, is a golden inscribed stone wall similar to the ones seen earlier. At the four corners of the plaza, however, there sit four members of the Rong clan, each seated cross-legged. They form a protective angular arrangement—some bowing their heads, deeply contemplative; others with eyes wide open, fixed intently upon the silver screen. Yet what strikes Han Li with a subtle sense of alarm upon a single glance is a Rong clan chief, both hands resting on his knees, eyes closed, his face slightly purple. Though dressed in an ordinary gray robe, he carries a massive sword of unknown origin. The blade is wrapped in a yellow animal hide, revealing only a long, dark handle. The sword itself appears to rise well above the height of the man, standing out strikingly. What draws Han Li's attention most, however, is the subtle, almost tangible glow of blood radiating from the Rong chief—a particularly dense and unusual kind of malevolent energy. Three more Rong族 members were present: one was a young man clad in green leather armor, and two were elderly men and women with gray hair and beards. Aside from their still-furred bodies, their heads differed markedly from those of the Rong族 outside, now resembling those of ordinary human beings. Han Li's eyes flashed with cold light, and without hesitation, he drifted silently toward the direction of the Han man. Clearly, this particular outsider posed a greater challenge than the other three; thus, he resolved to strike him down with a decisive, unexpected blow before calmly handling the remaining three. His ethereal form moved as silently as air, approaching the Han man within twenty paces, gradually drawing nearer. The Han man remained seated on the ground, motionless, completely unaware that a deadly presence was closing in. Han Li's expression grew steadily colder, and his inner qi began to stir and flow erratically. Yet, at this very moment, an unforeseen event occurred. When Han Li drifted out of the range of ten or twenty paces from the great Han, the massive blade on his back suddenly trembled and emitted a resonant hum. Though the sound was not loud, the surrounding area had been naturally silent, making the hum remarkably piercing. The other three members of the Rong clan were startled, instantly turning their gaze toward Han Li. Han Li's eyes widened, a flash of golden-yellow brilliance appearing in his pupils. With a swift motion, he reached out his hand into the air. The blade materialized in his hands without explanation, and as he shook it, the leather covering cracked and fragmented piece by piece. The blade then transformed into a swirling, dark and misty gale, sweeping forward with great force. Amid the roaring wind, thunderous sounds rose, subtly enveloping a monstrous creature with outstretched limbs and claws, creating an impressive and formidable presence. Han Li's face tightened, silently muttering under his breath, "Unlucky—this is a rare spiritual artifact capable of automatic alerting. This blade is likely one of the treasures listed on the Primordial Chaos List of the Ten Thousand Spirits." His figure flashed with golden light, materializing instantly, as he lifted both arms. With one hand, he spun it around, suddenly producing a short silver ruler, which he gently swayed against the black gale. Countless ruler-shadows surged forth, then coalesced into a massive, sweeping shadow that thundered down with the force of wind and lightning. A tremendous roar echoed through the heavens. The silver light and black wind burst apart simultaneously, sending out waves of gusts that scattered in all directions. The silver ruler and a massive, board-like blade collided instantly, their surface inscriptions flickering with vibrant spiritual energy, radiating an impressive aura and emitting resonant hums—stalling in a tense standoff. At the same time, with the other hand, Han Li lightly brushed the space before him. A small black mountain materialized and then vanished into the void in an instant. Moments later, a wave of spatial disturbance rippled above the large man, and a black mountain, towering a zhang in height, rose from the air, crashing down with great force. A soft gasp of surprise escaped him, and the Huanzhu Han finally showed a trace of astonishment, yet a grim smile quickly spread across his lips. With a single hand gesture, a thick, crimson aura of deadly energy surged from his body. This aura rose upward, coalescing into a massive blood-red hand that stretched out its five fingers and reached straight for the black mountain. A deep thud! As the tips of the hand touched the base of the mountain, it suddenly sank, immediately showing signs of strain. Clearly, the weight of the Yuanmagnetic Peak exceeded the Huanzhu Han's expectations. The Han's expression changed, and he suddenly stood up, launching a fierce punch straight toward the heavens. A brilliant column of blood-colored light erupted from the punch, swiftly fading and merging into the floating blood hand. Instantly, the surface of the blood hand shimmered with a radiant glow, expanding in volume several times over. With a firm press of his fingers, delicate blossoms of crimson lotus petals began to bloom at the tips of his fingers. Five lotus blossoms spun swiftly, and countless runes surged forth, working in harmony with the blood-red hand, truly lifting the black mountain peak and preventing it from falling. Seeing this, Han Li's eyes flashed with blue light. A thunderous crack echoed behind him, and instantly, a pair of translucent feather wings emerged from his back. With a single flap of the wings, he vanished in a thunderous roar. The warrior of the Weng clan stared, his pupils dilating, then suddenly opened his mouth, expelling a beam of golden light that vanished into the space a few feet ahead. A deep burst of sound followed, and Han Li stumbled, his form then appearing strangely in that spot. A pale, jade-like hand, glowing with five hues of light, tightly grasped a small golden serpent with two wings sprouting from its back. The serpent, still exuding its essence and shaking its head and tail continuously, seemed ready to break free. Han Li emitted a cold exhalation, and then suddenly, the five-hued light in his hands flared brilliantly, becoming intensely bright. The golden flying serpent trapped within grew suddenly alarmed, but at the next instant, layers of ice instantly emerged upon its body. The golden stream of flame instantly transformed into a five-colored ice sculpture. With his cultivation advancing, the power of his five-colored extreme flame had naturally grown far beyond what it had been at first. Without hesitation, he rubbed his hands together once more, and with a thunderous crack, waves of golden electric arcs shot forth from his palms. The ice sculpture cracked and shattered piece by piece, gradually dispersing into scattered points of crystalline light and vanishing. Seeing this, the great Han of the Rong clan could not help but display a mixture of astonishment and anger. This "penetrating-spirit serpent," which he had nurtured for many years, was born with the innate ability to pierce through the void and possessed an exceptionally resilient body, rarely harmed by any artifact. He had never expected that, upon releasing it, although it had broken through the other's strange evasive technique, it would be defeated so effortlessly. Immediately, the Han raised his voice in a loud roar, and with a sweeping gesture of his hand, a large circular cymbal suddenly appeared in the air. Carved with exquisite runes, its edges were exceptionally sharp, shimmering with threads of bloodlight. With a slight tremor of his wrist, the circular basin shot forth with a roar. A series of sharp rushing sounds erupted, and it instantly transformed into a swirling array of blood-blades, rushing straight toward Han Li, slicing through him in a continuous wave. Yet, as Han Li gazed at these blood-blades, a strange expression crossed his face. Instead of dodging or retreating, he raised one hand and formed a seal. Black energy surged over his body, momentarily materializing a dark, armored suit. As soon as the bloodlight touched the space within a zhang of his body, it was halted by the successive layers of black runes rising from the armor, unable to make any progress. Seizing this moment, Han Li extended his back wings, and in a flash of pale-blue electric arc, vanished once more. The large man's expression remained calm and composed. With no hesitation, his body spun smoothly, and the blood-like aura surged outward in all directions, instantly coalescing into a magnificent, expansive lotus of blood, fully enclosing and shielding him within its embrace. Not surprisingly, the Han warrior had already sensed that his opponent was no ordinary being. Seizing the opportunity, he quickly glanced toward several of his companions, somewhat astonished that none of the others had yet come to assist. Upon this glance, however, his expression grew stern. He noticed that the young man in leather armor, along with the elder and the elderly woman—three members of the Rong clan—had suddenly come into conflict with a white figure and two faint silver figures that had appeared without warning. The three were engaged in fierce combat, each clearly holding their own, yet none could free themselves from the fray at the moment. The white and silver figures, of course, were precisely the spirit puppets and the two shadow puppets formed from the Jia Yuan Fu that had followed Han Li into the inner sanctum. As Han Li's cultivation level had sequentially advanced two stages, the power of the shadow puppets had also significantly increased, enabling them to hold their own against the two late-stage Lingxu cultivators. Otherwise, with the earlier versions of the shadow puppets, they would likely have been overwhelmed and destroyed within just a few encounters by the elderly woman and elder, who wielded their precious artifacts. As for the white-clad woman who had transformed into a child, she held a fan in one hand, from which waves of blue light surged forth in great, tumultuous bursts. With the other, her long sleeves swayed, sending out countless strands of white silk formed from cold vapor that shot out in rapid succession, tightly ensnaring the young man. The large Han man was startled, still without fully comprehending what was happening, when a ripple of movement surged above his head—Han Li suddenly appeared on the peak of the black mound, his body seemingly materializing in an odd manner, and then gently stepped with one foot. As the mound glowed with gray light, it rapidly expanded in size, growing to over ten zhang in height. Under the flickering silver seals, it erupted with a thunderous "boom," crushing the blood-red hand beneath it into fragments, while the black mountain itself roared and plunged downward. The Han warrior of the Weng tribe frowned, and without hesitation, flipped his hand once. A flash of insight revealed a short silver axe of several inches in length in his grasp, which he then hurled into the air. A deep thud! A massive axe, several zhang long, Han Li's pupils constricted, and suddenly accelerated his spell. The Yuanmagnetic Peak blurred, then, in a strange twist, vanished entirely. The massive axe struck the void. Yet immediately, a soft "pffft" sound echoed. Han Li's figure, along with the black mountain peak, materialized suddenly at the head of the Rong ethnic giant, and plunged straight down without hesitation.