Han Li now finally understood what it meant for fierce winds to cut like knives and for heaven and earth to split apart.
Though he stood only at the outermost edge of the Black Wind Banner's power, he felt as though his five senses had been severed. His ears were filled with howling roars, his vision was nothing but a murky yellow haze, and his spiritual sense could not venture even a single step beyond his protective barrier — the moment a tendril of divine consciousness slipped outside, the savage gale shredded it instantly.
Now he understood why the Three Flame Fan's predecessor, the Seven Flame Fan, ranked at the very bottom among Supreme Spirit Treasures. Even with the Three Flame Fan operating at thirty to forty percent of its power, the gap between it and this Black Wind Banner was as vast as the distance between heaven and earth.
Fortunately, his Bright and Clear Spirit Eye technique still functioned. By channeling spiritual power into his eyes and activating the faint blue glow within his pupils, he could just barely make out shapes within a distance of roughly thirty feet.
As for the Nine Truths Demon Subduing Formation further away, he had no way of discerning what state it was in under such ferocious winds. He could only sense from the erratic tremors beneath his feet that the battle raging within was extraordinarily violent.
He lifted his gaze to the sky. It was no better — the heavens had been churned into a chaotic slurry by the howling gale, offering no visibility whatsoever.
Han Li's expression shifted. The buzzing hum emanating from his protective barrier grew louder by the moment, and maintaining it required a conspicuously greater outflow of magical power than before.
The Black Wind Banner's might was still escalating.
He drew a deep breath and instinctively glanced downward. Perhaps burrowing underground would be a viable option.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than, less than ten feet from his barrier, a black wind column roughly a bowl in diameter erupted from the ground and shot skyward, rapidly expanding and spinning.
A tremendous force immediately dragged his azure barrier toward the column. To his alarm, the protective shell began sliding helplessly toward the vortex.
Han Li's heart lurched. He clenched his entire reserve of magical power at once, and the barrier blazed with brilliance, barely halting the drift.
In the next instant, over a dozen golden sword beams shot from within the barrier, weaving around it in a dazzling display of crisscrossing sword qi. In moments they shredded the still-forming wind column into nothingness, reducing it to swirls of black gas. But the black mist immediately began recondensing, spinning once more to reform the cyclone.
Seeing this, Han Li's face darkened. He signaled to Silver Moon, and the two shot backward.
It seemed these wind columns were thoroughly sinister — even underground offered little safety.
After carefully evading several more of the same pillars, the pair finally reached a corner at the very edge of the space.
Ahead lay a dim, gray barrier wall.
Just as he had surmised, the winds here were significantly milder, and the black wind columns had not appeared in this area.
At last, they could breathe a moment's relief.
Yet the gravity on Han Li's face had not diminished in the slightest. After staring toward the palace for a long moment, his eyes flashed with resolve. With a flick of his wrist, he whipped out a golden flying sword roughly a foot long and drove it hard into the barrier behind him.
With a sharp tearing sound, the gray barrier split open a gash several feet deep — but a flash of white light, and it healed itself instantly.
Han Li frowned.
The barrier did not appear especially tough; a flying sword could cut into it with ease. But its thickness was utterly unknown, and under the restriction's effect, it recovered at a staggering speed. Unless he could punch clean through in a single strike, escape was out of the question.
After a moment's thought, he moved his arm and pressed a palm against the storage pouch at his waist.
A flash of spiritual light, and the Three Flame Fan materialized in his hand.
He carefully channeled spiritual power into it at a measured pace, then gave the fan a wave. A three-colored halo shimmered into existence along its surface.
Han Li inhaled, held the fan in one hand, aimed it at the barrier, and swept it gently forward.
A torrent of three-hued flame surged from the fan's face. Wherever it touched, the barrier dissolved silently. A tunnel roughly ten feet across opened before him.
But after a single glance inside, Han Li's expression turned grim.
The flame had penetrated over thirty feet before dissipating, and yet the barrier showed no sign of being pierced through.
He had not unleashed the Three Flame Fan's full power, but the sheer thickness of this barrier gave him pause.
Though the fan packed considerable might, if one strike had proven insufficient, he harbored little faith that simply raising the output would shatter this ancient restriction left by cultivators of old. After all, this was the place where the demoness Long Meng and the incarnation of the Holy Ancestor of Ancient Demons were sealed.
Moreover, operating the Three Flame Fan at full power would produce no small commotion. A single strike might well draw the Holy Ancestor's attention. If the barrier held while he attracted that kind of heat, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Furthermore, he suspected that this barrier's strangeness might conceal additional layered restrictions within it. What if breaking through triggered a counter-restriction backlash? That was no laughing matter.
With these thoughts swirling, Han Li loosened his grip on the Three Flame Fan slightly, his expression shifting between shadow and light.