The Vedic Saint's form had not yet solidified into a golden body, yet each of his six arms pressed distinct hand seals, his two faces clearly visible, his heads and lips moving subtly. After a brief moment, a series of resonant Vedic chants began to echo throughout the chamber. At the same time, golden light rippled over Han Li's face, and his skin subtly trembled, revealing patches of golden scales. Clearly, the Vedic Saint's true magical power had reached its peak. The nine silver circular discs suspended around the room, previously trembling slightly, now shone brightly and emitted a steady hum. This sound harmonized perfectly with the chanting within the chamber, blending seamlessly without any jarring dissonance—seeming as though it had always originated from the same source. With a soft "pffft," "pffft," golden halos suddenly appeared behind both Han Li and the Vedic Saint's form. The halo behind the Saint's form was visibly larger than the one beneath, yet in terms of density and depth, it was far less substantial than the one below. Han Li exhaled softly and changed the hand seal he was holding. Two golden halos spun swiftly, and from their centers surged countless golden characters, each blazing with brilliant, radiant light. Upon close inspection, it became evident that all of them were written in golden seal script. As if summoned by the seal script, nine silver circular plates suddenly transformed. Amidst a resonant hum, large silver characters—each the size of a clenched fist—flew rapidly out of the plates and shot into the golden halos. These silver characters were clearly inscribed in silver script. In a short while, both golden and silver scripts appeared simultaneously within the halos, multiplying rapidly and soon spreading throughout the entire area. Yet still, a continuous stream of characters surged forth, pouring in without cease. Instantly, the nine silver discs emitted a sharp cry and burst open, vanishing into swirling bands of silver light. At the same time, the golden glow behind Han Li began to spin wildly, gradually blurring and shrinking, with the golden and silver runes within flickering and shrinking as well. Within just a few breaths, thousands of runes had shrunk down to the size of grains of rice. The golden glow itself condensed into a luminous, golden orb of fist-sized magnitude. The other golden glow in the sky, under the impetus of the Buddha-Saint's form, also slowly transformed into another golden orb and descended. A flash of light later, the colossal form disappeared entirely. Thus, Han Li was left with only two glowing orbs gently floating beside him. Han Li, his face grave, gently tapped each of the two orbs with a single finger. With two sharp "whoosh" sounds, two golden orbs flashed and vanished, dissolving into the creases of his brows. At that moment, droplets of sweat the size of beans began to form on Han Li's forehead. His body suddenly swelled out by a full circumference, and his limbs' skin trembled, with thick, sinewy ridges springing up and pulsing from beneath his scales. As though something were raging within him, wreaking havoc and causing him great distress, his face was etched with deep pain. After a short while, Han Li's entire head began to glow with flashes of luminous light, suddenly enveloped in a shimmering purple-gold aura that expanded and contracted in irregular pulses. Various golden and silver glyphs appeared and vanished intermittently on his face, as though something were trying to escape, yet being forcibly drawn back. The scene appeared utterly strange and mysterious. Han Li, however, closed his eyes at this moment, his two hands moving with the decisive, wheel-like motions, as though desperately urging something forward, causing the golden light on his body to flicker and shimmer incessantly. At the same time, an astonishing scene unfolded above the mountain where the dwelling stood. The once clear, azure sky, stretching for miles under a vast expanse of blue, suddenly roared with strong winds. Then, the entire sky darkened, vast banks of gray clouds surged forth, transforming the sky within a hundred li into a deep, black, pot-like expanse. Though the fierce winds abruptly subsided, a cold current surged forth from somewhere, sweeping through the clouds. First, fist-sized blue hailstones crashed down in a furious torrent, followed by a deluge of snow falling like a fine, thick blanket. In a short while, the region transformed into a snowy wonderland, every surface gleaming with crystal clarity, resembling the frigid realm of an ice glacier. Even as the snow continued to fall, a sudden, hot gale surged violently within the clouds. The thick, ominous clouds were blown away in a single breath, and beams of sunlight poured down in abundance. At this moment, whoever stands atop the mountain would be struck with astonishment, gasping in surprise, simply by gazing at the sky. It is precisely noon, yet the several suns that should have risen simultaneously now shine only one, while the others have vanished entirely. The remaining sun glows with a faint golden hue, and the once-blue sky has subtly transformed into a pale silver tone. With gold and silver interwoven, the entire region seems to have been transported into another mysterious realm. However, if someone flies hundreds of miles from the mountain where Han Li stands, they would find the extraordinary sky phenomena gradually becoming ordinary. Beyond three hundred miles, in the vast expanse of white, misty seas, multiple suns still shine side by side, and the sky remains as vividly blue as ever—only the sky above the mist displays a steady shimmer of pale silver light. Yet the continuous rumbling sounds coming from the same direction cause many cultivators, already on edge, to suddenly take flight from their pavilions in alarm. They either stood atop the mountain peaks or directly propelled their treasures into the sky, all gazing toward the misty sea, their faces filled with astonishment. At a mountain peak only十余 miles from the misty sea, several figures floated at an altitude of over a thousand zhang, likewise gazing intently at the distant misty sea. Among them, a young man in a white robe, appearing to be in his thirties, clearly held a status far above the others, standing at the forefront with a massive white sword resting at his feet. The rest of the group—men, women, and children—stood slightly behind, their gazes upon the white-robed figure marked with deep respect. "Is it truly only three days since this person arrived at Xurì Peak?" the white-robed man said, his expression of surprise momentarily settling, before turning to ask without looking back. "Your uncle, this person did indeed arrive at Xurì Peak three days ago, and with a powerful spiritual presence, simultaneously drove away all the nearby cultivators at that time. My nephew has a close friend in the late Yuan婴 stage who was also present in that region." It was said that under that divine awareness, he could not even stand, his entire inner energy completely suppressed, unable to shift an inch, and thus he dared not resist at all and simply withdrew. An elder with snow-white hair bowed slightly and replied with respectful deference. "Oh, a mere divine awareness sufficient to fully suppress a Yuan-Infant cultivator from a distance—though challenging, I've managed to achieve that. But to simultaneously exert such pressure on over a dozen immortal halls at the same time? That is something no Lingxu cultivator could accomplish. Even a fully perfected Lingxu cultivator would find it unlikely." The white-robed figure spoke with a somewhat puzzled expression. "What my uncle means is that this elder is a Hé-tǐ cultivator!" The white-haired elder's face turned pale, and he gasped suddenly. The others, upon hearing this, were equally startled, all drawing in sharp breaths. "Based solely on the strength of his divine awareness, this seems very plausible. Yet it's not impossible that he is leveraging the power of some unique artifact, or that he has cultivated a particularly powerful divine awareness technique of his own." "The white-robed figure paused slightly, then spoke without great certainty. 'So that's it!' The white-haired elder felt a slight relief in his heart, as though this explanation were at least acceptable. 'Hmph. This is merely my speculation. Even if he is not a Consolidated Realm cultivator, he must surely be a Transcendent Realm cultivator—most likely one who has reached the peak of his cultivation. You must absolutely avoid provoking him. With such a high-level presence, our Zhēn Líng family will strive to maintain harmonious relations; we would never allow anything hostile to develop.' The white-robed figure's expression darkened, and he issued the words coldly. 'How could my nephew possibly dare to offend such an elder? Had it not been for my uncle's timely arrival, our family might have already decided to relocate, seeking a new home elsewhere.' The white-haired elder smiled wistfully. 'Relocate? That won't be necessary. Since he initially only used his spiritual awareness to drive others away, he seems only somewhat domineering, not particularly ruthless." Moreover, observing the current celestial signs, it appears this person is harnessing the potential of this very location to cultivate an extraordinary great ability—there seems to be no ulterior motive. Since they have chosen such a remote and secluded spot, they are likely an independent cultivator without a specific affiliation. Should we be able to invite them into our family to serve as a guest senior elder, our valley's strength would significantly grow. In that case, I would like to stay longer here, to establish a strong rapport with this individual." The robed figure, his gaze shifting, expressed it thus. "It is truly a great honor for us, that our senior ancestor agrees to temporarily reside with me." The white-haired elder, upon hearing this, could not help but be deeply delighted. His senior ancestor was a cultivator at the Stage of Immortality's initial phase—merely offering occasional guidance during their stay in their dwelling could already bring profound benefits to their descendants. After all, as the head of a branch lineage of the Valley family, he himself was only at the late Yuan-Ying stage of cultivation. The robed figure was satisfied with the elder's demeanor, slightly inclined his head before shifting his gaze toward the misty sea above, pondering silently what great power of the human race could produce such a celestial phenomenon. Yet, as the Art of Spirit Refinement was a rare secret of the True Immortal Realm, even though this high-ranking figure from a True Spirit lineage had studied it thoroughly, he remained utterly puzzled. Fortunately, the current celestial display, while impressive, was not yet extraordinary. Otherwise, if he had been stationed at the very heart of the misty sea, he would have been utterly stunned, unable to remain so composed. After all, while certain spiritual arts in the realm could sense the heavens and stir local celestial energies, they could never achieve the remarkable effect of the Spirit Refinement Art. Even now, however, the sight before him made the robed figure no longer see韩立 as an ordinary cultivator, and he began to feel a strong desire to draw him closer. After gazing for a while and seeing no further changes in the celestial phenomena at a distance, the white-robed figure left a young disciple on the peak and eventually returned with the others to the cave dwelling at the foot of the mountain. The other cultivators who had observed the celestial signs likewise grew astonished and, after a long period of awe, could not remain vigilant any longer, returning to their cave dwellings with some apprehension.