Yet now, with his inner power nearly depleted and his combat strength reduced to its lowest point, he no longer cared that the battlefield remained around him. He raised his hand and released a yellow-hued cushion, settling upon it with his legs crossed. Han Li pressed two hand seals and immediately closed his eyes, beginning to regulate his breath and circulate his inner energy. Though the pills he had taken earlier had prevented the risk of bursting his body, the hurried circumstances meant that he could not fully absorb all of them—instead, a formidable accumulation of medicinal energy had gathered within him. Should this pressure not be promptly stabilized, the consequences would have been dire. Fortunately, the protective magical array surrounding him ensured stability, and as the leopard-mountain beast swiftly reappeared beside him, now guarding him with vigilance, he need not worry about any unexpected disruptions. After only a short while, a golden aura began to shimmer over Han Li’s body, gently pulsing and flowing in an ever-changing rhythm. Within this aura, Han Li himself transformed into a golden war god, utterly still and motionless. Suddenly, he changed his hand seals, having his fingers swiftly move like spokes across his chest, then launch out in a series of quick bursts. With a sound of rushing air, dozens of slender silver threads vanished instantly—precisely dozens of fine silver needles that he had cast into his body using a secret technique, locking vital points within his meridians. Then, with a simple flick of his sleeve, several符 of varying colors shot out, spiraling before rushing toward Han Li. "Pffft!" A few bursts of sound—these符 exploded into clusters of radiant light, then transformed into distinct, large-character symbols that shimmered and swiftly dissolved into his body. Han Li emitted a low groan, a faint golden glow rolling over his face, his breath momentarily rising before settling back into balance. After a brief pause, he exhaled gently and finally opened his eyes. "At last, I've managed to stabilize things for now. I still don't know how the other side is faring. I hope neither of them has encountered any unforeseen mishaps." Han Li folded the cushion, stood up instantly, and murmured a few words. His gaze flickered, and he glanced in a certain direction. If his memory served him right, Jin Yue, the Zen master, and the other should still be engaged in fierce combat with the blood-lit immortal's avatar. After pausing to consider, Han Li was about to take further action when suddenly, the air shook violently—then a thunderous roar like a mountain collapsing and the earth splitting erupted! The sky and the surrounding light screens shattered instantly, the entire spatial array being forcibly broken open by immense divine prowess. Thirty-six male cultivators stumbled, materializing from the void, some spewing blood, others their bodies bursting spontaneously; the array tools before them dissolved into nothing amid the counterattack. Han Li's expression tightened, his gaze sharpened, and he turned toward a spot that had suddenly emerged nearby. There, a massive, translucent, blood-red skeleton roared fiercely, wreaking havoc. This colossal skeleton stands over a hundred zhang tall, transformed into a three-headed, six-armed form, each of its six great hands cradling a dark, staff-like magical weapon. When these six magical weapons are all raised and swung, waves of magical winds surge forth, and within the dark mist, countless blades and spears seem to whirl and surge violently. At the top of the skeleton's massive head, a young man in a blood-red robe stands, one hand forming a seal while the other supports a large black seal. His eyes are closed, as though fully channeling his power into the skeleton beneath him. Opposite him, however, the silver-haired elder and Master Jinyue appear utterly disheveled. One of them has his golden robe torn into several fragments, with a striking crimson hand seal forming on his chest—deep enough to appear as if half his ribs have turned to powder—yet not a single drop of blood has spilled. The other has his hair loose and flowing, his face pale as paper, and the seven-colored fan he holds now radiates a noticeably dimmed glow. Before them, several precious items were swirling and dancing, forming layered luminous screens that shielded them. Yet under the force of the magical wind, these screens trembled and flickered incessantly, as though they would soon collapse and no longer be able to hold. This crimson skeleton possessed such formidable power—clearly, the spatial barrier had been forcibly shattered by him. Han Li observed all this, his expression growing slightly more serious. The final manifestation of the Blood-Light Sage Ancestor appeared to be stronger than he had anticipated. Yet on his face, there was no change in expression; instead, his hand in his sleeve moved subtly. A soft glow flashed, and an object was gently grasped between his five fingers. With the disappearance of the barrier, the three combatants on the other side suddenly gained a clear view of what was happening at Han Li's side. Their reactions, however, were quite different. The silver-haired elder and Jin Yue the Zen master both expressed great surprise, while the young man in the blood-red robe displayed a look of hesitation and doubt. To be sure, since the separation between them and the Magian giant Han had only been a brief span of time, it was now astonishing that Han Li stood unharmed in place, while the Magian giant had vanished entirely. The blood-robed youth deeply understood the strength of the Magian giant—though he himself had summoned his true form, he had no confidence in being able to defeat the giant. Naturally, he could not believe that Han Li had slain the giant so swiftly. Thus, his gaze flickered continuously, scanning the scene with urgency. Clearly, the Saint Patriarch's embodiment had also sensed the weakening of Han Li's aura. With a sudden ill will, he launched a powerful strike at Han Li without regard for the specifics—three, seven, or twenty-one. The sheer force of this attack would indeed make it difficult for Han Li to absorb it directly. Yet Han Li showed not the slightest sign of panic. Instead, he gently tossed a small object from within his sleeve. A strange, mournful cry followed, and a dark, black ring was thrown into the air, from which countless golden blossoms surged forth. These blossoms spun in the air, flickering and expanding, gradually transforming into golden, fist-sized beetle-like creatures. There were well over ten thousand of them—each gleaming with radiant gold, their forms fierce and imposing—exactly the mature-bodied Gold-Eating Beetles. Though Han Li's physical strength and magical reserves were significantly diminished, his mental awareness remained unshaken, allowing him to skillfully command these creatures at this moment. And under the impetus of their technique, these gold-devouring insects instantly emitted a resonant hum, transforming into a vast expanse of golden clouds that blocked in front of Han Li. Then, with a mere finger pointing into the air, Han Li caused the golden mist to solidify, forming a magnificent, brilliantly luminous shield. At that moment, a surge of magical wind from afar swept in, carrying countless sharp blades that struck the shield. A continuous series of thunderous crashes echoed as cracks burst across the shield's surface—though it remained as solid as ever. Despite the fierce momentum of the magical wind, it was completely halted and absorbed. Upon seeing this, the young boy in the crimson robe slightly frowned, yet before he could summon any further spell, Han Li suddenly issued a low command, raised his hand toward him, and uttered the character "go." "Crack!" The golden shield instantly shattered, unleashing a surge of over ten thousand insect soldiers that buzzed and surged forth, forming a rolling wave of golden clouds that swiftly reached the nearby skeletal figure. "Unfortunate—it's the swarm of gold-devouring insects!" The blood-robed youth scanned the swarm of insects rapidly, then suddenly remembered something, his face instantly pale as he roared. At that moment, the skeleton beneath him swiftly waved his magical weapon several times before hurling it with great force—upon impact, it shimmered and transformed into six massive black serpents, charging straight toward the insect cloud. As for the blood-robed youth himself, he hurriedly stepped on the skeleton beneath him, sending a surge of crimson wind that instantly swept both him and the skeleton away, rolling them swiftly toward the distance. The elderly man suddenly roared softly. "I have exactly the same thought," said Master Jin Yue, his eyes flashing with cold light, hesitating only briefly before agreeing. The two exchanged a glance, then at the same moment flipped their palms, each carefully withdrawing a half-sheet of silk cloth. The silk was deeply yellowed, with smudged, dirty characters and inscriptions etched upon its surface—appearing remarkably worn and tattered. Yet both the elder and the monk held it with great reverence. As soon as they extracted it, they immediately spoke in solemn tones, reciting softly, and then hurled the silk cloth forcefully toward the young blood-clad boy fleeing in the opposite direction. Two beams of gray light rose into the air, spiraled upward, and converged at the center, merging into a single, hazy Taiji diagram, which then vanished silently into the air. The sky darkened instantly, and countless black clouds materialized in the air. With a thunderous roar, the clouds parted, revealing a Taiji silhouette—like a small city—descending swiftly and immediately enveloping a thousand mu of land beneath it. Whether it was the blood-robed youth fleeing at full speed or other demonic warriors caught within the shadow, all felt their bodies grow heavy, their movements suddenly slow and sluggish. Yet this effect was insignificant for the magi of the Magus rank and above; though startled, they merely drew upon their inner qi and effortlessly endured it. As for the blood-robed youth, even as the blood wind swept past him, his speed remained unimpaired, and he continued to roll steadily away. At that moment, however, the silver-haired elder and Jin Yue the Zen master raised both hands toward the sky, their expressions grave, and began to chant in unison. Their deep, resonant incantations echoed throughout the battlefield. At that very moment, the vast Tai Chi silhouette suddenly flashed with brilliant light, shrinking down to a size of about a mu, centered on the young man in the crimson robe. Countless five-colored runes surged forth from within, making the silhouette shine with an intense, dazzling radiance, as though it had completely transformed into a pure luminous form.