Time passed gradually, and the subtle tremors in the hall never ceased. Clearly, the battle had been exceptionally fierce, with occasional thunderous explosions directly shattering the outer defenses and resonating throughout the hall. Yet the Han Li and the young robes guards remained bowed and still, unaffected at all. After three full hours, the vibrations finally stopped, but waves of astonishing energy surged forth, sweeping across the battlefield in the wake of the explosions. These waves were no ordinary emanations from ordinary cultivators or low-tier beasts—they were clearly the result of high-level combatants stepping in. The intensity and frequency of the waves, spreading almost throughout the entire battlefield, suggested that the magical race had still fully committed its elite forces, otherwise the battle would not have been so intense. Han Li silently pondered these developments, yet remained motionless and expressionless within the spell array. Suddenly, a piercing cry tore through the outer seal, reaching directly into the hall and causing a faint stinging sensation in Han Li's ears. "Unfortunate!" Han Li murmured silently, instantly flinging out his sleeve. A hazy, shimmering glow surged forth, forming a luminous veil that enveloped the entire hall. He then swiftly glanced at the thirty-six young men in green robes. They were all clutching their heads, emitting painful groans, with subtle streaks of blood beginning to seep from their ears. Han Li furrowed his brows, and then emitted a cold, crisp exhalation. Though the sound seemed icy and sharp, upon reaching the ears of the young men, it felt like a refreshing dew, easing their suffering significantly. They gradually resumed their meditative postures, calming down. After a full meal's worth of time, they fully recovered their comfort, their faces regaining much of their former composure. "Thank you so much, elder!" the leading disciple bowed deeply in gratitude. "There's nothing to worry about. As long as I'm here, you won't suffer any harm. However, the sheer power of just a single cry suggests that the Magistrate of the Mage Clan has also intervened. You won't be staying here much longer—make every effort to recover your vital energy now." Han Li said calmly. "Yes, we will make every effort to restore our vital energy promptly and never let the senior master down," the male cultivator replied, his heart suddenly stirred, and immediately closed his eyes once again to focus on his cultivation. As for the super-beasts that had been nearly wiped out—almost entirely—by some mysterious artifacts employed by the human and spirit races, only a few dozen remained on the battlefield, each one profoundly weakened and barely able to contribute. Beneath the towering walls of Tianyuan City, in their place stood a dense army of armored magical beings, numbering no less than seven to eight million. Yet strangely, while magical beings at the Yuan Ying level and above could soar into the air, all others were forced to run desperately across the ground. Yet the demonic forces, in both numbers and strength, far surpassed the city's defenders and ordinary cultivators. Despite this unfavorable situation, they surged upward in a continuous tide, overwhelming the city's defenses and turning the battlefield into a chaotic melee. The once-mysterious protective light shield of Tianyuan City had long since vanished, shattered and broken by the demonic forces at an unknown moment. What truly determined the outcome of the battle, however, was not the ordinary demonic troops or the regular cultivators defending the city, but the intense, fierce combat unfolding among the high-level beings above the city walls. Numerous entities at the stage of Transformation or beyond had formed dozens of varying-sized battle groups, engaged in ceaseless struggles in the sky. Rolling waves of dark clouds, surging streaks of radiant light, and blinding sword beams constantly collided, creating a dazzling rain of light that flashed across the heavens, accompanied by continuous thunderous explosions. Several of these battle groups stood out particularly. Within a battle group, a murky magical cloud interwove with a deep blue liquid, spinning rapidly and continuously, forming a massive vortex spanning over a hundred mu. Inside the vortex, thunder roared incessantly, as a figure clad entirely in blue lightning clashed fiercely with another figure dressed in dark, ink-black robes. Nearby, a vast expanse of gray light screens stretched across more than a thousand zhang, concealing the sky. Within the screens, a towering magical figure opened his mouth, spewing out gusts of wind that transformed into countless wind blades several zhang long, sweeping toward the opposite side. On the other side stood an elder, wielding two enormous fans in each hand, vigorously扇ing them out while simultaneously releasing waves of red and blue light that collided head-on with the opposing gales, transforming into surging streams of water and fire power, and maintaining a strong, unyielding stance. In the final battle group, a man dressed in black robes raised a small crimson drum in one hand, and with the other hand continuously struck it with firm, rhythmic thuds, sending out concentric waves of pale red sound energy that spread outward. Opposing it was a colossal magical bird with a beautiful woman's head. The bird was uniformly emerald green, with four wings sprouting from its back, and it emitted a piercing, shrill cry that held its own against the soft, deep red sonic waves, neither gaining nor losing ground. Within several miles of the two beings, no other members of the human, demon, or spirit clans were present. Clearly, the sonic attacks from both were so extensive that no one dared approach, fearing that even a single spark might ignite a widespread disaster, like a city burning and its fish being swept away. The sharp cry that had previously reached Han Li's pavilion was an unintended loss of control in the bird's sonic wave. Fortunately, the two parties could still manage to contain most of their attacks, dispersing only a small portion of the wave's power, otherwise if the attacks had spread widely across ordinary beings—whether human, spirit, or demon—the casualties among all three clans would have been immediate and severe. Han Li was somewhat surprised, but upon scanning the area and finding no sign of the Blood-Light Saint Ancestor intervening, he promptly withdrew his spiritual awareness. His task was merely to deal with the Bloodlight Sage Ancestor in his current form. Since the Tianyuan City forces had not fallen behind, there was now no pressing need to intervene. The battle outside gradually intensified as the Magistrate Elders and the Human-Fairy Clan Elders stepped forward. The Magistrate Elders clearly outnumbered the combined tier-merged beings of Tianyuan City. When another seven or eight Magistrates surged forth from the magical aura, the human side responded not with tier-merged cultivators, but with a series of strange cultivators dressed in vividly colorful garments. These cultivators possessed strong qi, all at the Lingxu or higher stage. Upon seeing this, the Magistrates laughed fiercely and resolved to summon their powers to annihilate these seemingly vulnerable figures. But at this moment, some of the cultivators suddenly produced certain pills from their sleeves and swallowed them whole. Immediately, their bodies swelled dramatically—some sprouting fur all over, others revealing sharp fangs—transforming into half-divine beings, their qi noticeably surging much stronger than before. The pills they consumed were rare spiritual herbs designed to awaken latent potential. Meanwhile, another group of cultivators, though unchanged in form, raised their hands and released one after another dark, circular rings. Instantly, gusts of cold wind swept through the air, and a series of tall, purple-armored automata materialized with ghostly grace. These automata had pale, bloodless faces, vividly green eyes, and bare hands with black, sharp fingers—rarely seen corpse-type automata. As soon as they appeared, their green eyes flashed, and they immediately charged straight toward the several magi-kings. With hundreds of them moving in unison, a steady flow of cold winds surged forth, clearly demonstrating remarkable magical prowess. Several of the Shang Shen sneered, raising their hands or stepping forward to manifest vast, towering magical palms that struck the puppets from the air, or opening their mouths to unleash streams of black light that severed them cleanly in two, as if they were brittle reeds. In moments, the puppets were scattered and defeated. The Shang Shen laughed uproariously, intent on wiping out every single one of them in one go. Yet, at the very next instant, an astonishing sight unfolded. Puppets whose bodies had been deformed by a single strike began to ripple with black energy, then gradually restored themselves to their original forms. Even those severed into several pieces reassembled seamlessly when their fragments gathered into the black energy. Then, these revived puppets, now bearing fierce expressions, charged straight toward the Shang Shen. "Immortal bodies! No—that's not all! There's something more to it!" one of the Shang Shen exclaimed, startled. At the same time, within a stone tower of Tianyuan City, hundreds of cultivators dressed in black robes sat motionless on the ground, each one before them floating a dark, half-foot-tall wooden puppet. These puppets, their bodies covered in gray-white runes, were wrapped in a faint black aura that never ceased to coil and swirl. Under the continuous incantations of the cultivators, they twisted and deformed in an eerie manner, as though alive. At the very moment the magistrates were stunned by the immortality of the corpse puppets, another group of cultivators suddenly stomped their feet, and instantly, massive array discs—each several zhang in diameter—emerged beneath them. With a flash of light, these discs vanished in place. Immediately, the magistrates near them were illuminated by flashing glimmers, and the cultivators materialized before them, yet each now held a series of banners shimmering with vibrant hues of five colors, which they vigorously waved. A tremendous roar echoed—"Boom!"—and waves of five-colored mist surged forth from the banners, swiftly engulfing the magistrates. Within the mist, silver runes rolled and swayed, fluctuating in size and intensity, glowing with an enigmatic radiance. A roar of furious rage erupted instantly from within the mist, with waves of violent energy repeatedly crashing and colliding like fierce gales. Yet, despite the turbulent swelling and contracting of the clusters of five-colored mist, no Magus Sovereign surged forth. On the contrary, the energy within the mist grew ever more turbulent, and deep, resonant thunder rolls rolled forth in waves. At this moment, however, the half-elf cultivators—already partially transformed into beings of spirit and nature—responded to the commanding roar of their leader. One by one, they drew out golden and silver talismans and pressed them against their bodies, and their forms instantly blurred, then dissolved into swirling gusts of spirit-wind, rushing into the mist. As a result, the thunderous sounds of Cloud Mist Sect grew even more powerful than before, and the energies of these cultivators intertwined seamlessly with those of the Magus Sovereigns, each group asserting its strength and neither gaining an advantage.