Han Li had naturally noticed the Blood-Color Sage behind him, relentlessly pursuing. With a sudden sense of urgency, he had already drawn his inner qi to its peak. Yet the small vessel piloted by the Blood-Color Sage moved with such speed that it was the fastest flying artifact Han Li had ever witnessed. Under the same rhythmic vibration of his two crystalline wings, the vessel trailed far behind, yet could not close the gap even a single inch—leaving Han Li deeply frustrated. Could it really come down to a direct confrontation with this Blood-Color Sage? Though he didn't know whether the Sage possessed other formidable techniques, the two master artifacts he held alone were nothing short of miraculous—Han Li felt utterly powerless to counter them. At present, he was locked in the Sage's divine awareness. Unless he could instantly stretch the distance between them to several thousand li, he would be completely unable to escape. As he flew away, Han Li rapidly pondered his course of action in his mind. As the great fowl passed through a range of mountains, suddenly it emitted a low cry, and from its body surged a thousand silver feathers shooting straight downward—vanishing in a flash, they transformed into a series of banner flags. With a flash of multicolored light, the banners and talismans trembled and then faded away, dissolving into the mountains below. Though it had performed these maneuvers, the great fowl's speed remained unimpaired. With successive flashes, it swiftly vanished beyond the small mountain range, once more disappearing at the horizon. A short while later, at the other end of the sky, a single thread of blood shimmered into view, and then a sound of rushing through the air emerged above the mountains—suddenly, a crimson boat materialized in the sky. On the boat stood three youths who were identical in appearance, their expressions cold and composed. The one in front slightly narrowed his eyes, arms folded. The two behind closed their eyes, maintaining their hand gestures without interruption. As the boat began to blur, it was soon swallowed into the void, illuminated by flashes of bloodlight. At that moment, a sudden surge of over a thousand luminous pillars erupted from the mountains below. As colorful light ribbons danced and shimmered, an exceptionally splendid, massive magical array instantly formed in the sky above the mountain range. The crimson vessel, which had just attempted to flee, suddenly found the air around it thick and viscous, and was immediately engulfed within the power of the array. "Hmph! A mere temporary array—do you dare to imprison me?" said the young blood-streaked boy leading the charge, his expression unchanged, even displaying a cold laugh. Then, the boy standing behind him loosened his hand seals and opened his eyes wide. With a single breath, a dark glow burst forth. Within the glow, a small tripod appeared and faded in and out—none other than the Purple-Speaking Cauldron! "Break!" The boy who had expelled the cauldron gently pressed his palm against the tripod, remained expressionless, and with a quiet, low command, the cauldron instantly radiated brilliant light, expanded rapidly, and grew to a towering height of over ten zhang. Then a low hum resonated, and a large black rune, measuring a zhang in size, shot forth from the tripod, spinning rapidly before transforming into a black gale that surged outward. The black wind surged like a mighty tidal wave, wielding an astonishing power that shook the sky as it swept outward. The great array withstood only a few impacts before it seemed to tear apart like paper, ultimately dispersing into scattered streams of luminous light. The purple tripod flashed and instantly shrank, then dissolved into a cluster of black light, merging seamlessly into the young man’s body. The youth exhaled deeply and once again pressed his palms together, closing his eyes. Seeing this, the blood-streaked youth burst out laughing, and his blood-colored boat transformed into a filament of light, shooting forth once more. The entire obstruction had lasted no more than a few breaths. At the same time, Han Li, who had been flapping his wings and flying ahead, suddenly sensed the subtle connection between them vanish. His eyes widened in astonishment! How could this be possible? The array tools of the Thousand-Miracle Sea-Cloud Formation have already unleashed eight-tenths of the formation's power, yet they still fail to impede the old demon in the slightest. Han Li was stunned, his heart growing heavier with each passing moment. After a brief interval, the colossal phoenix he had transformed into suddenly shook its wings, and hundreds of feathers shot forth. As these feathers emerged, they swiftly transformed into various talismans, vanishing almost instantly into the void. Only two silver talismans remained floating at the original spot. One shimmered with silver light, then suddenly materialized into a soldier clad in golden armor and helmet, holding a massive golden blade, hovering proudly in place. The other silver talisman manifested as a faint golden silhouette that flashed past the soldier's back before vanishing mysteriously. Yet the great phoenix itself showed no intention of pausing, merely flickering and vanishing once more at the horizon. From a distance, it appeared as though only the soldier remained quietly standing there. Not long after, a ripple of spatial disturbance rippled from afar, and the crimson vessel swayed slightly before materializing in the nearby void. At the prow of the vessel stood a young blood-clad lad, who first stared in surprise at the sight. But upon glancing at the golden armored warrior, a cold smile returned to his face. "This human youth knows quite a bit—indeed, he's managed to craft such a high-tier shadow puppet. Yet to me, this creation is utterly insignificant!" As soon as he finished speaking, the young man at the rear of the vessel slowly opened his eyes and, without a word, raised his hand. Instantly, a seven-colored tower materialized before him. With a single flash, a seven-colored tower image, stretching thousands of paces, materialized above the golden warrior and descended to enclose him. The warrior remained impassive, yet his golden greatsword surged forward with unwavering strength, splitting the sky with a powerful downward stroke. A thunderous roar echoed. A golden blade of over a hundred paces in length struck the base of the tower's shadow, only to vanish as if it had never arrived. The immense tower shadow descended, instantly spilling out countless streaks of seven-colored light, completely engulfing the golden warrior within. When the sky's radiance settled and the tower once again transformed into a small, seven-hued tower, the warrior had vanished entirely. The young boy who had summoned the tower raised a single hand and effortlessly retracted the tower. Leading the group, the blood-streaked youth burst into laughter, his blood-colored boat shifting slightly and then projecting a thread of blood forward. As the thread passed through the space where the warrior had just disappeared, a sudden flash of silver light revealed another golden warrior stepping silently into view. With both hands forming gestures, a hazy, three-headed, six-armed celestial form emerged behind him. As all six arms simultaneously swept forward, six massive beams of golden light surged directly toward the boat, crashing down with overwhelming force. Before they truly struck the boat, a formidable power—both familiar and yet strangely new—roared in with tremendous intensity. "True magical form! This is impossible!" "Upon receiving the assault, the leading youth, who had previously been utterly unconcerned, gasped in surprise as he saw the scene. However, the younger boy behind him immediately acted without hesitation—flicking his hand once, a small purple tripod materialized and, with a reverse palm strike, instantly formed a shimmering purple veil that fully enclosed the entire vessel. The six golden beams striking the veil only produced a few dull thuds before being smoothly absorbed by the veil. Yet during this brief pause, the crimson vessel momentarily halted, suspended in mid-air. Though still visibly startled, the leading youth quickly recovered, his expression darkening as he raised his arm and drew a seemingly odd circular gesture before him. With a soft 'pffft,' a large, milky-white opening suddenly appeared ahead of the vessel, and as blood surged forth, a serpentine phantom shot forth, blurring into the golden warrior's body, piercing it directly and then winding around, tightening its grip." A tremendous force immediately struck the armored warrior. A deep rumble! The golden-clad warrior had barely time to activate his celestial form behind him before he burst into fragments, dissolving into scattered streaks of silver light. His three-headed, six-armed celestial form likewise shattered with a crisp sound. As the leading blood-streaked youth coldly exhaled, intending to re-activate his small boat and vanish once more, his expression suddenly changed as he raised his head sharply. To his astonishment, swirling hues of霞 light now danced above the boat, and gradually, a series of pavilions and halls emerged, half-visible, half-veiled. This was precisely the Nine Palaces Heaven-Dry Seal quietly laid down by Han Li. At the very moment the youth noticed it, the pavilions and halls had already radiated a brilliant glow, preparing to encase his crimson boat within their spell. It was the youngest among the rear group who suddenly threw his seven-colored tower once more into the air. Instantly, the massive tower rose high above, its shadow blocking the solemn pavilions and halls from descending, preventing them from settling at all. Then the young man chanted continuously, spouting a surge of refined blood from his mouth while shouting the character "Receive" with great force. In an instant, seven-colored light halos rose from the tower's summit, curling upward and then folding back, fully engulfing the entire pavilion silhouette within their radiance. As the light subsided, the massive tower form vanished, and the seven-colored miniature towers settled once more into the young man's hands. The leading youth breathed a sigh of relief, then laughed heartily and immediately activated the blood-boat's flight light beneath him. At that moment, on a nameless mountain hundreds of miles outside Yitian City, nearly a thousand men, women, children, and elders dressed in uniform were gazing toward Yitian City, now subdued beneath a surging tide of dark magical energy. Some clutched their hands tightly, others mourned silently, while others displayed unmistakable glimmers of hope. Though their expressions varied, they remained silent, as though well-practiced and disciplined. In front of this group stood a pale-clad middle-aged man in a green robe, his expression complex as he gazed in the same direction—none other than the Supreme Senior Monastic of Yitian City, the very "Green Dragon Master" who had once fled back into the city. "Let's go," he said suddenly, turning around with a solemn tone. "The fate of Yitian City is now beyond salvage. You are the seeds of our four great sects. As long as you survive the demonic calamity in Tianyuan City, our four sects will rise once again. We must act now—let's move immediately."