Chapter 164: A Battle for Life and Death

The distance between the town and White Crane Immortal City was considerable, spanning twenty li. Han Yi, channeling all his mana into his sword flight, estimated it would take him roughly a quarter of an incense stick's time to cover the distance at full speed.

To a mortal, such a short time might seem negligible. But to a cultivator, the time it takes for an incense stick to burn could hold countless possibilities. The battlefield was a volatile place where victory could crumble in a mere kshana, let alone over the span of an incense stick.

Thus, as he soared into the sky once more, Han Yi spared no mana. He relentlessly squeezed every drop of power from his Spirit Sea and Divine Soul within his Sea of Consciousness, pushing himself to the absolute limit. A radiant streak of light shot skyward like a cannonball, arcing across the sky toward White Crane City.

In this life-or-death moment, he abandoned all pretense of concealment. His sole focus was reaching the Immortal City as swiftly as possible. Once within its walls, the Blood God Sect cultivators would never dare attack it—even if they tried, they wouldn't succeed.

Time was of the essence. When he had covered ten li, with only ten more to go before reaching the Immortal City, a deafening sonic boom erupted behind him. Han Yi whirled around, his eyes widening in horror, his face twisting with utter dread.

A golden light streaked across the sky, moving more than five times faster than Han Yi's sword flight.

By the time he turned to look, his expression contorting in horror, the golden light had closed to within a kilometer.

Too fast, too fast!

It's too late.

The thought flashed through Han Yi's mind as he plummeted downward. Below lay a narrow river, flanked by low hills on one side and stretches of abandoned farmland on the other.

Staying airborne would make him an easy target. Though the open fields ahead offered a clear path, they led to certain death. Descending offered a chance to use the terrain or river to conceal himself and escape.

Faced with this desperate choice, Han Yi dove downward.

But...

Han Yi's speed was no match for his pursuer's.

Just as he touched down, before he could reach the river or the low hills, a thunderous roar erupted, shaking the very heavens.

"You killed my son! Prepare to die!"

A golden light flickered in the corner of Han Yi's eye. In the next instant, it was within ten meters.

The golden light was eerily familiar, so much so that Han Yi momentarily mistook it for his own magic artifact.

The Golden Light Shuttle.

Compared to the Golden Light Shuttle that had exploded within him, this one was larger, faster, and far more powerful.

Its dazzling golden radiance and the aura it unleashed far surpassed any Magic Artifact he had ever encountered.

A Magic Treasure.

This was a genuine Magic Treasure.

The hairs on Han Yi's neck stood on end. His mind reeling from the shock, he instinctively drew his sword and slashed.

The Black Light Broken Sword flashed out.

Gold and black collided in an instant.

The terrifying force of the impact hurled him back, slamming him down ten meters away in the abandoned farmland. He skidded across the field, carving a furrow over a hundred meters long. At the end of the trench, Han Yi coughed up blood, his face twisted in horror.

The Black Sword flew from his grasp, soaring over his head before plunging into the earth a hundred meters behind him. The broken blade sank into the soil, its hilt disappearing completely.

Though the Black Light Broken Sword remained intact, it trembled violently. Most of the Divine Sense embedded within it shattered like glass.

Han Yi's vomiting stemmed from two causes: the collision between the Golden Light Shuttle and the Black Light Broken Sword, and the near-total destruction of his Divine Sense, which weakened his Divine Soul and suppressed his internal injuries.

The rampaging Spirit Energy that had filled the air was brushed away by a casual flick of his sleeve, vanishing without a trace.

The Golden Light Shuttle reappeared, hovering before a cultivator.

The cultivator slowly descended, his gaze locking with Han Yi's.

He was an elderly man, nearing seventy, clad in a blood-colored robe stained with fresh, vivid blood. His aura erupted without restraint, shaking the forest across the river, causing leaves to rustle and insects in the abandoned fields to drop dead. Further away, mortals prostrated themselves on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.

Han Yi met the cultivator's blood-red eyes, seeing a hatred that burned deep in his bones.

"Heavenfall City... My son, Yuan Bai, was murdered, and the Golden Light Shuttle was lost. For over a decade, I've searched, torturing countless cultivators from the Profound Pill Sect. Today, at last, the culprit stands revealed." Yuan Changtian's murderous intent materialized into a palpable force.

Foundation Establishment cultivators could live up to 250 years. Having his son at the age of 200 was a rare blessing, and Yuan Changtian cherished him dearly. He had even gifted his son the Golden Light Shuttle, a Top-Grade Magic Artifact he had acquired upon reaching the Foundation Establishment Stage.

He never imagined that a simple mission would lead to his son's death at the hands of the Profound Pill Sect. That very night, his son's Soul Tablet, enshrined within the Blood God Sect, shattered. By the time he reached Heavenfall City, all he found was a charred corpse, burned beyond recognition by an Exploding Talisman.

From that moment onward, he dedicated himself to hunting down his son's killer and exacting vengeance.

After more than a decade of relentless searching, this was his final attempt to assassinate a cultivator from the Profound Pill Sect. His plan was to flee to Great Yong afterward, resigned to abandoning his blood feud if he failed to find the culprit.

Yet, against all odds, he stumbled upon a clue.

In the village Lu Zhi had led him to, he discovered fragments of the Golden Light Shuttle, the Magic Artifact he had wielded for over thirty years since his early Foundation Establishment Stage. Even in its shattered state, he could still detect its unmistakable aura, a familiar presence that time could never erase.

Finding the lost Golden Light Shuttle confirmed beyond doubt: Han Yi was the killer.

Dozens of meters away, Han Yi struggled to his feet, his face paling as his pupils narrowed imperceptibly.

Han Yi would never forget that night in Heavenfall City. He hadn't expected Yuan Changtian to recognize him through the Golden Light Shuttle.

Seeing the subtle shift in Han Yi's expression, Yuan Changtian's face twisted into a savage grin, confirming his suspicions.

"Just as I thought."

"Heaven has eyes."

"Die!"

The moment the word "die" escaped his lips, the golden light flared anew. As it struck Han Yi's eyes, the Golden Light Shuttle was already a mere ten meters away.

Fast, impossibly fast.

So fast that Han Yi couldn't even activate his trump card, the Third-Tier Spirit Talisman—the Profound Capital Yang Fire Talisman.

In this situation, even the fraction of a kshana it would take to retrieve the talisman from his Storage Pouch would be fatal. By the time it was in his hand, activated or not, the Golden Light Shuttle would have already pierced his body.

Even with the talisman, the best-case scenario was mutual destruction.

Han Yi suspected Yuan Changtian wouldn't even grant him the time to activate it.

It was just like his recent encounter with Han Xuxiao. Han Xuxiao had tried to use a talisman, but Han Yi's Black Light Broken Sword had already pierced his skull. The talisman proved useless.

In the face of such a vast disparity in strength, Spirit Talismans weren't always effective. Sometimes, you simply didn't have time to activate them.

In less than a tenth of a kshana—a mere flicker of thought—Han Yi grasped the situation.

His Black Light Broken Sword was too far away; he wouldn't have time to retrieve it. Drawing his Green Ripple Sword from behind was equally impossible. The only action he could take was to retrieve an item from his Storage Pouch. This item couldn't be a Spirit Talisman, as there was no guarantee it would activate, and even if it did, he would surely die.

In that instant, Han Yi pulled out a Magic Artifact—the highest-grade one in his Storage Pouch.

It was a blood-colored long blade.

The Dao Inquiry Blade, originally Mo Wen's, was a top-grade Magic Artifact.

Han Yi retrieved it to buy himself precious time. He needed to evade the Golden Light Shuttle's lethal strike long enough to activate a Third-Tier Spirit Talisman.

Boom!

The golden light struck, shattering the Blood Blade instantly. The broken blade sliced past Han Yi's temple, leaving a bloody gash on his left forehead. The force of the impact sent tremors through his entire body. Blood spurted from his split grip as he clutched the fractured blade, hurled backward over a hundred meters by the devastating force.

"Hmm?"

"The Dao Inquiry Blade? So Mo Wen fell to you as well."

"Hmph. That makes your death all the more necessary."

The golden light paused, then accelerated with renewed ferocity, hurtling towards him.

But...

Blocked by the Blood Blade and sent hurtling over a hundred meters through the air, Han Yi had already produced a golden Spirit Talisman.

The talisman was inscribed with two intricate symbols resembling ancient script.

This was the life-saving measure Yuan Shun had bestowed upon him: a Third-Tier Spirit Talisman called the Profound Capital Yang Fire Talisman.

Even before landing, Han Yi began channeling his mana into the talisman, causing it to glow.

In the next instant, a terrifying suction force erupted from the talisman, draining approximately eighty percent of the mana from his Spirit Sea. His face paled further.

If this talisman doesn't work, I'm doomed, he thought. Even abandoning my physical body and having my Divine Soul infiltrate his Sea of Consciousness might not be enough to defeat him.

Though his Divine Soul was formidable, it was still significantly weaker than that of a Peak Foundation Establishment cultivator on the verge of Core Formation.

Even with the Divine Soul Five Decays Technique, an exceptionally potent soul technique, Han Yi had no confidence in winning a Divine Soul Battle against such a formidable opponent.

In that fleeting moment, his mind raced furiously.

The talisman in his hand transformed into a searing radiance, feeling as if he were clutching a miniature sun.

A sudden flash of inspiration struck him. Han Yi crushed the light in his palm, imbuing it with his Divine Sense, and directed it toward Yuan Changtian's position over a hundred meters away.

In an instant.

A flame leaped from Han Yi's palm.

This flame was unlike any he had ever seen—different from ordinary fire, different from True Person Huo Ming's Abyssal Fire, different from Mu Jianxu's Pill Fire, and even different from the Supreme Profound Primordial Eight Trigrams Furnace's Profound Primordial Six Ding Divine Fire.

It resembled a condensed mass of pure white light. Calling it "fire" was merely an instinctive reaction.

The gathered light pulsed once and shot out, instantly covering over a hundred meters to reach Yuan Changtian's head.

Activating the spirit talisman took time, and Han Yi's crushing of the light consumed precious seconds. During these critical moments, the Golden Light Shuttle advanced relentlessly, closing the distance to point-blank range.

Simultaneously, the light transformed from the Profound Capital Yang Fire Talisman materialized above Yuan Changtian's head.

Precisely at that moment, Yuan Changtian abruptly looked up, his eyes widening as he recognized the eerie white light erupting from the void. A primal tremor shook his heart, and the premonition of death surged within him, intensifying to a deafening crescendo.

"A Third-Tier Spirit Talisman!" Yuan Changtian didn't recognize the talisman itself, but in that instant, he intuitively grasped its tier from the mortal threat it emanated.

A talisman capable of triggering such intense death premonitions had to be at least Third-Tier, equivalent to a full-power strike from a Golden Core cultivator.

The spirit talisman's speed was equivalent to a full-force strike from a Golden Core cultivator. Yuan Changtian barely had time to react. His expression twisted in alarm as he hastily threw out a magic artifact.

Unlike Han Yi, whose arsenal consisted primarily of offensive tools, Yuan Changtian deployed a defensive artifact: a golden umbrella that instantly unfurled.

However, before the umbrella could fully open, the silent beam had already burned through half of its canopy and struck Yuan Changtian directly.

In that instant, the beam vanished without a sound, but a single spark ignited on Yuan Changtian's skin. The flame spread rapidly, engulfing his entire body and transforming him into a living torch.

This was the Profound Capital Yang Fire Talisman, which sealed within it an extremely potent yang fire capable of incinerating both the physical body and the divine soul. Once ignited, the flames clung stubbornly, persisting for forty-nine days before naturally extinguishing.

Simultaneously, as the fire took hold, the golden light, now only a hundred meters away, closed the distance to within three meters of Han Yi.

At that precise moment, Han Yi's feet had just landed, his stance still unsteady. His right hand loosened its grip on the shattered Blood Blade, blood dripping from the split web between his thumb and forefinger.

Undaunted, Han Yi's expression remained unchanged. A tendril of Blacklight surged upward from before him, solidifying into a sword in his hands.

Black Light Broken Sword.

Han Yi's calculated retreat, aided by a stroke of luck, landed him exactly a hundred meters away, behind the spot where the Black Light Broken Sword had been hurled moments earlier.

Golden and black light clashed once more.

This time, with Han Yi maintaining a lower stance and gripping the Broken Sword directly instead of relying on Sword Flight, a terrifying force surged through the blade and into his arms.

Crack...

The sound of fracturing bones echoed almost simultaneously—first his wrists, then his elbows, and finally his upper arms.

My hands are shattered, Han Yi thought.

Then...

The Broken Sword pressed against his chest, violently crushing and displacing his internal organs.

Pfft.

Mid-air, Han Yi spat out a mouthful of blood.

Even with his shattered hands and mangled internal organs, he clung stubbornly to the Broken Sword.

Under the relentless pressure of golden light...

Boom!

Han Yi was blasted away like a cannonball, flattening the weeds and wild grasses in the barren fields.

In less than a kshana, his figure slammed into an earthen mound, shattering it before crashing into a low hill, embedding itself deep within its side.

The impact sent Han Yi flying over three hundred meters.

A trail of blood stained the fields along his path, painting a crimson streak across the landscape.

"Cough... cough..."

From within the small mound of earth, several hacking coughs echoed.

A figure burst from the rubble, scattering sand and stones as he emerged.

His magic robe was in tatters, the sleeves completely torn to shreds and scattered like dust, revealing two blood-soaked arms hanging limply. Yet his grip on the black Broken Sword remained firm, blood streaming down his arms like water, cascading down the broken blade.

Han Yi's face was deathly pale, save for an unnatural flush rising to his cheeks.

The previous strike had left him severely wounded, but he still possessed some fighting strength. He had suffered extensive external injuries, fractured bones in both hands, all his ribs shattered, and his internal organs crushed and displaced.

Such injuries would likely prove fatal to a Qi Refining Stage cultivator. However, Foundation Establishment cultivators possessed far greater vitality. They could forcibly endure such trauma for a time, provided their Divine Soul remained intact and their Spirit Sea unbroken. Ultimately, physical damage had its limits.

Emerging from the mound, Han Yi fixed his gaze on Yuan Changtian, over three hundred meters away.

A humanoid torch of pure white flame charged toward him. Though the flames didn't appear particularly formidable, their relentless intensity sent a shiver down Han Yi's spine. Through the blinding light, he glimpsed a pair of eyes blazing with bloodlight, and his heart lurched.

The Third-Tier Spirit Talisman worked. He's doomed.

But judging by the situation, Yuan Changtian wouldn't die instantly. Before succumbing, he would surely drag Han Yi down to the Yellow Springs with him.

These two thoughts surged simultaneously.

A cold dread washed over Han Yi as he spun around and fled.

As he ran, he noticed Yuan Changtian's Golden Light Shuttle embedded in the barren farmland nearby, still inactive. Why wasn't Yuan Changtian using it? Could the pure white flames have robbed him of control over the shuttle?

The moment this thought struck him, a set of daggers materialized at his side.

The Heavenly Capital Daggers—top-tier High-Grade Magic Artifacts.

Six jet-black blades hurtled toward Yuan Changtian in a Kshana.

To Han Yi's astonishment, Yuan Changtian made no attempt to dodge. Instead, he charged straight into the daggers.

A series of faint thudding sounds reached Han Yi's ears. Then, his Divine Sense flared with pain, and his face paled once more.

It was the fire that burned away his Divine Sense.

When the six Heavenly Capital Daggers pierced Yuan Changtian's body, they were instantly engulfed in the pure white flames. The moment the fire touched them, it incinerated the Divine Sense Han Yi had imbued within the blades.

This incineration was even faster and more terrifying than what he had experienced with Lu Zhi, sending searing pain through his Divine Soul.

"I can't let a single spark touch me," Han Yi thought, his hair standing on end.

Then, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes as two more sword artifacts materialized beside him:

The High-Grade Coiled Dragon Sword.

The High-Grade Demon-Slaying Sword.

He had obtained the Coiled Dragon Sword from the halberd-wielding youth in the Myriad Demon Mountain Range, the one suspected to be a descendant of a Great Qian Duke-Marquis.

The Demon-Slaying Sword had been acquired from Xue He of the Blood God Sect.

These two swords were merely ordinary High-Grade artifacts. Now that he had reached the Ninth Layer of Qi Refinement, they were of little use to him and had remained in his Storage Pouch as backups.

But now, they served their purpose.

Retreating rapidly, Han Yi's eyes flashed with renewed ferocity.

The Coiled Dragon Sword and Demon-Slaying Sword leaped into the air, flanking Yuan Changtian before exploding under Han Yi's Divine Sense, three meters from their target.

Already heavily injured, Han Yi's body shuddered violently once more.

His eyes turned bloodshot, and a single tear of blood trickled down his cheek, yet he remained indifferent to the sensation.

The self-destruction of the two High-Grade swords transformed into twin torrents of shattered blades that crashed into Yuan Changtian.

The faint popping sounds of hundreds of bullets piercing through wooden boards rang out simultaneously.

Yuan Changtian, who had been lunging forward, froze mid-motion. Blood-soaked fragments of metal rained down behind him, a testament to his grievous injuries. He roared in frenzied agony, a primal roar that exuded savage ferocity.

Yet Han Yi, retreating rapidly, felt a surge of elation rather than fear. Yuan Changtian's desperate roar betrayed the fact that he was at the end of his rope. If Han Yi could endure for just a little longer, he could bleed his opponent dry.

This, I can do.

Han Yi's bloodshot eyes burned with ferocious resolve.

The Crimson Longsword materialized before him, a personal magic artifact he had acquired during his Demon-Slaying expedition in the Myriad Stars Sea by killing Xue He.

Taken from the Blood God Sect, now used for the Blood God Sect.

Han Yi swayed on his feet, his body teetering on the brink of collapse.

Yet he stubbornly suppressed the searing pain in his Divine Soul. The Blood Sword's trajectory was sluggish, so slow that even a Ninth-Layer Qi Refinement cultivator could easily evade it.

But Yuan Changtian, himself on the verge of death, lacked the strength to dodge. He slammed into the blade.

Thwack.

An arm engulfed in pure white flames soared into the distance.

The Blood Sword caught fire and swiftly melted away, the flames flickering out as it dissolved.

Han Yi collapsed onto his back, then forced himself upright again.

"Again," the single-minded determination echoed in his mind.

He began hurling magic artifacts from his Storage Pouch one after another. Each self-detonation sent violent tremors through his Divine Soul, compounding his injuries.

Yuan Changtian's advance faltered momentarily, allowing Han Yi to widen the distance. But Yuan Changtian weathered the self-destruction of the magic artifact and charged forward again, only for Han Yi to detonate another.

This reckless strategy bordered on mutual annihilation, but Han Yi saw it as his only way to exhaust his opponent.

And so it went.

The pursuer and the pursued slowed to a crawl, each step weighing as heavy as Mount Tai. Gradually, they neared the edge of the farmland.

Crossing the boundary, Han Yi's heart skipped a beat. His Storage Pouch was empty.

Without hesitation, he channeled his dwindling Divine Sense into his last intact artifact—the Green Ripple Sword—and sent it soaring forward.

Fragmented strands of his weakening Divine Sense flooded into the blade.

The Green Ripple Sword wavered momentarily before plunging diagonally toward Yuan Changtian.

Normally, a surge of Divine Sense could disrupt a magic artifact's internal Formation Arts or physical structure, triggering its self-destruction.

But this time, the Green Ripple Sword resisted.

Before Han Yi could react, the blade pierced through Yuan Changtian's almost unrecognizable head like an arrow from a bow.

The Green Ripple Sword soared dozens of meters before plunging into the earth.

Yet the flames on the dark azure blade didn't melt it. Instead, an invisible force swept across the sword, extinguishing the fire instantly.

Pfft.

Yuan Changtian's body stiffened abruptly as the sword pierced his skull. His forward momentum carried him crashing into the farmland, where his corpse crumpled into a blazing pyre.

This final strike was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Yuan Changtian had truly reached the brink of death. In his fading consciousness, only one obsession remained: to drag his enemy down with him.

But in truth, beyond that obsession, even his Divine Soul had been consumed by the flames, leaving only an empty husk.

Even without this final blow, it was uncertain whether he could have killed Han Yi.

The Profound Capital Yang Fire Talisman targeted not only the physical body but also the Divine Soul. The moment the sword pierced his skull, his Divine Soul was incinerated into nothingness by the raging flames.

His unyielding hatred turned to ash.

Meanwhile,

Han Yi was equally battered, barely able to move. Drenched in blood, his right hand hung limply, clutching his Broken Sword. His vision swam in a crimson haze, blurring his surroundings, but he could still make out the relentless flames closing in.

At this moment, Han Yi fared only slightly better than Yuan Changtian. Though not yet dead, death seemed imminent.

Seeing Yuan Changtian engulfed in flames, Han Yi didn't relax. He forced himself to stay alert. Within the Sea of Consciousness Space, his Divine Soul staggered to its feet. A Soul Sword materialized, only to tremble and dissipate, merging back into his Soul Body.

Even the Soul Sword couldn't hold its form, a testament to the severity of Han Yi's Divine Soul injuries.

Nevertheless, even without the Soul Sword, Han Yi was prepared to desperately unleash the Divine Soul Five Decays Technique in the impending Divine Soul Battle.

Yet, after ten breaths, the flames had reduced Yuan Changtian's corpse to ashes, and no sign of his Divine Soul emerged.

Han Yi dared not let his guard down. He waited for the duration of an incense stick before finally exhaling in relief.

The strange flames had annihilated Yuan Changtian's Divine Soul.

The Divine Soul Battle was averted.

He had won this fight.

Han Yi wanted to laugh, but no sound came. Blood clotted in his throat. Spitting it out brought him slight relief.

Just then, a voice descended from the heavens, brimming with delight, yet it sent a chill down Han Yi's spine.

"It is Heaven's Will that this old Daoist should prosper, finding such a promising disciple."

"Heaven's Will indeed."

"Wonderful, truly wonderful!"