Yet, at the very instant the black-robed young man's five fingers closed upon it, the ethereal body suddenly rolled out a layer of cold, malevolent qi from its surface, then shifted horizontally—faintly blurred—before materializing several dozen feet away in the void. As the counterfeit immortal instantly straightened, his eyes shimmering with a soft golden light, he fixed them upon the black-robed youth and spoke, each word crisp and icy: "Very well. You've truly dared to act. Then I shall have to rely upon this body and contest with you." This counterfeit immortal had been manipulated by a separate consciousness of a Spirit King, temporarily embodied within him. Han Li and his companions were greatly relieved to see this. Though the Spirit King's consciousness was not aligned with theirs, it now stood as a decisive ally. Yuan Yan, the Saint Patriarch, frowned, gently withdrawing his hand and replied calmly: "You old fool truly did leave a reserve—your spirit trace remained embedded within the young spirit's body." But how can you, with merely a subpar, counterfeit immortal robe, challenge me, the Supreme Patriarch? With just two-tenths of my divine power, I could easily subdue you. "If this were elsewhere, I would indeed believe you. But here, on the Suffering Spirit Island, you could already be considered fortunate if you can mobilize three or four-tenths of your power. As for my counterfeit immortal robe—though not fully restored—should I now add this item to it, I shall see just how you will respond." The voice of the Spirit King, emanating from the counterfeit robe, carried a tone of fierce indignation. With a simple hand motion, he produced a small silver vial in his palm. The vial's surface was uneven, bearing faintly engraved, ant-sized miniature spirit characters that shimmered with a soft silver glow. "Sealing Vial! You've managed to replicate it! Yet, what use is it against me?" The young figure in black robes was first startled by the vial, then immediately broke into a cold smile. "This bottle itself holds no benefit for you, but the contents within are sufficient to greatly enhance the false immortal's powers." The immortal replied evenly, then suddenly threw the small bottle into the air. The bottle spun smoothly as it descended, with various silver inscriptions subtly appearing on its surface. At the mouth of the bottle, green light flashed, and a droplet of vivid, emerald liquid rolled down. The liquid was transparent and luminous, glowing with an extraordinary aura of spiritual energy—seeming as if it had condensed directly from the essence of heaven and earth. As Han Li, who had been observing the bottle from afar, sensed the familiar aura emanating from the green droplet, his pupils instantly contracted, and a wave of profound astonishment surged through him. "This aura—wasn't it that... though now much fainter, yet otherwise identical..." Without mentioning the astonishment in Han Li's heart, the black-robed young man's face instantly changed the moment he saw the green liquid. Suddenly, his massive black sword blurred and unleashed a furious, sweeping strike, generating seven or eight crescent-shaped sword beams that roared forth and instantly converged into a single, colossal sword beam, rushing straight toward the false immortal, Wui Xian. At the same time, with a lightning-fast motion, he raised his other arm, and with a flick of his finger, launched a projectile. A rushing sound followed, and a streak of dark light flashed and vanished, aimed precisely at the droplet of green liquid. Given the close proximity, both attacks arrived almost instantaneously. Yet Wui Xian seemed entirely prepared; he neither stepped aside nor evaded the massive sword beam, instead flicking his own finger toward the dark streak and then suddenly opening his mouth to draw in the incoming light. "Whoosh!" A section of Xian's finger detached from his palm and shot out, striking the dark streak head-on with perfect accuracy. At the same instant, the fingers burst silently into fragments. The black glow paused slightly before taking on its true form—a slender, jet-black cone, about a foot long, faintly radiating threads of deep black luminescence, clearly no ordinary treasure. Yet during this brief pause, the drop of green liquid trembled and flowed downward as a slender green line, swiftly entering the pseudo-Immortal's open mouth. At that moment, the colossal swordlight reached close range, blurred slightly, then erupted with a powerful surge, bursting into an overwhelming display. A cascade of unyielding, obsidian swordspikes surged forth in all directions, completely engulfing the pseudo-Immortal. Given the formidable power previously demonstrated by the Black Mage's dagger, the pseudo-Immortal was likely to be instantly shattered into fragments. Yet at the very next moment, a cold exhalation rang out within the black swordspikes, and suddenly, a vibrant jade light bloomed forth. Then, without any prior sign, two large green hands emerged suddenly from the emerald light, sweeping side to side and effortlessly splitting the dense stream of black sword spears. The sword spears struck the hands, yet the green light merely flickered slightly, as if undisturbed. A streak of black, emitting a sharp cry, struck one of the green hands and vanished instantly. With a crisp sound of metal impact, the black spears paused and rebounded, assuming a sharp conical shape before dissipating. The green hand remained unharmed. Seeing this, the Yuan Yan Sage-Founder frowned slightly, shook his black great sword, and then gently lowered it, ceasing his attack, his gaze cold and silent. At that moment, the entire stream of black sword spears was completely extinguished by the two green hands, and a figure slowly emerged within the emerald glow—none other than the false immortal figure controlled by the Spirit King. Yet now, compared to his earlier appearance, he had undergone a striking transformation. The silver spiritual patterns that once shimmered across his face and body had now turned a deep emerald, penetrating deep into his flesh and subtly pulsing with life—so that upon first glance, one could hardly help but feel a chill run down one's spine. The puppet slowly drew its pair of green hands back, meeting the gaze of the young black-robed disciple with no change in expression. "The Celestial Nourishment Dew," the Yuan Yan Sage-Founder said, his eyes fixed on the pseudo-Immortal, his face aglow with excitement and a touch of disbelief, "you've managed to secure a drop of such a rare elixir, and yet you've chosen to use it on a mere pseudo-Immortal—doesn't that seem rather excessive, a hoarding of celestial treasures?" "False Immortal sneered, his voice icy and piercing. "Diluted tenfold? Its efficacy would greatly diminish—basically incapable of producing a Sky-Transforming Elixir Pill. Even if diluted further, this substance still carries a trace of immortal spiritual essence. It can serve as a substitute for immortal crystals, enough to awaken a few genuine powers within the False Immortal. Yet even so, I doubt that trace of spiritual essence will sustain this body for several attacks like the one just delivered." The Master of Yuan Yan's face smoothed out the excitement, and with a subtle glance, a hint of disdain appeared at the corner of his lips. "Several times? I hardly need to go through such trouble. As long as you can withstand a single strike from this body under your current condition, you'd truly deserve the title of the First Magician of the Demon Realm." The False Immortal suddenly displayed a strange expression. Immediately upon speaking, he stomped his foot, his form blurring as he surged forward, transforming into a faint green ethereal silhouette. "You're dead! While Yuan Yan the Sage-Founder still harbored some doubts about the meaning of the other's words, the moment he saw the false immortal, Pui Xian, flying toward him with such dignified composure, a profound sternness immediately settled upon his brow. With a sudden roar, a colossal magical shadow of a hundred zhang in height emerged behind his form. This shadow was most unusual—resembling an immensely enlarged giant toad, entirely black, with a thick neck bearing not only a single massive head in the center, but also four smaller heads on each side. It was a nine-headed demonic toad, a creature so rare that even in the realm of demons, it could only be found in the legends of various tribes. As soon as the nine-headed demonic toad's form appeared, the central head briefly darkened and then vanished, its mouth suddenly opening wide, and a golden shimmer flashing forth like a streak of light. The nature of this golden streak remained unclear, yet upon striking Pui Xian head-on as he approached, the false immortal was thrown back with a thunderous roar, seemingly even faster than when he had originally come. The young man in black robes saw this scene, and the fierce expression on his face faded instantly. With a sudden motion, he pressed a hand seal. At that moment, the golden streaks spewing from the giant toad began to whirl rapidly, forming a dense network of pale gold afterimages that spread across the sky above nearly half the pond. A vast golden net instantly materialized, instantly encasing the false immortal within. In the next instant, the false immortal was struck by a series of golden streaks that appeared out of nowhere, hurling him about like a toy. Yet every time he touched the net, he was immediately rebounded, unable to break free. Now, it seemed as though the false immortal had no defense at all! Seeing this, the young man in black robes let out a cold laugh, changed his hand seal once more, and the swirling golden streaks instantly dispersed, vanishing completely. In a flash, like a lightning bolt, he swiftly wrapped the false immortal in several coils and quickly retracted the net. The false immortal was suddenly pulled to a spot only a few zhang away from the black-robed young man, and trapped firmly by a golden rope as thick as a serving bowl—so tightly that not even his fingers could move. At this moment, everyone could clearly see that this thick, rope-like golden appendage was actually a long tongue projected by a colossal magical toad. Unlike the tongues of ordinary magical creatures, this one was a pale golden hue, and on the surface of its suction discs—each bearing a network of ridges—subtle, shimmering golden characters emerged, glowing faintly, as if it were a most mysterious artifact. "Bold claims!" laughed Yuan Yan, the Saint-Founder of the Magian lineage. "What further powers do you possess? Now, demonstrate them—your death is imminent!" Suddenly, the golden tongue tightened with astonishing force, and a series of crisp, pea-sized bursts of sound resonated through the false immortal's body. The magian founder intended to use this golden magical tongue to compress and burst the false immortal's form entirely. The pseudo-immortal, though not composed of ordinary flesh and bone, with a body as solid and resilient as that of a great transcendental being, now seemed poised to disintegrate at any moment under the firm grip of Jin She's immense strength. Yet, upon hearing the words of Yuan Yan, the Saint-Founder, the pseudo-immortal did not display the slightest fear or astonishment. Instead, a subtle, almost eerie, expression of amusement and contempt gently curled at the corners of his lips.